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This text has been proofread but is not guaranteed to be free from errors. Corrections to the original text have been left in place.
Title: Beyond Atonement, an electronic edition
Author: Clay, Bertha M., 1865-1922
Publisher: Street & Smith
Place published: New York
Date: [n.d.]
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Front cover of advertisements in Bertha M. Clay's
	"Beyond Atonement."First page of advertisements in Bertha M. Clay's
	"Beyond Atonement."Second page of advertisements in Bertha M. Clay's
	"Beyond Atonement."Third page of advertisements in Bertha M. Clay's
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	"Beyond Atonement."BEYOND ATONEMENTORIN BLIND LOVE'S GRIPBYBERTHA M. CLAYWhose complete works
      will be published in this, the NEWBERTHA CLAY
      LIBRARYSTREET & SMITH CORPORATIONPUBLISHERS79-89 Seventh Avenue, New YorkTitle page verso of Bertha M. Clay's
	"Beyond Atonement."BEYOND
ATONEMENT.CHAPTER
I.ROSALIND COTTAGE.It was golden weather in late September. The summer had been wet
and cheerless, and the harvest was late. The yellow corn stood in
sheaves on the uplands; the woods had scarcely flushed as yet into the
first mellow tintings of autumn, yet still was there a golden depth in
their greenness which the sun caught and glorified as he neared the
glowing west.The whole scene was like one of enchantment in the dark, dreamy
eyes of a girl who, leaning her small white chin in her firm white
hand, looked out of an open lattice window over the landscape. There
was a level sweep of corn and meadow, and orchard and woodland. In the
rear to the left rose the blue chain of the Malvern Hills, at a
distance of not more than two miles from Rosalind Cottage, a
picturesque, vine-clad dwelling, with its garden ablaze with autumn
flowers, its prim row of poplars rustling at the foot of the
lawn. The girl sat in a room on the upper floor; and since Rosalind
Cottage was built on a slight elevation, she could look over the tops
of the poplar-trees across the fertile plain, and toward the blue
hills. The room in which she sat was
very simply furnished. The little bedstead had white dimity curtains;
the window was draped with the same; the chairs were cane-seated and
framed in plain wood; the small chest of drawers was of painted deal,
and the floor was only partially covered with strips of plain
felt. Everything spoke eloquently of small means, but also of neatness
and a rigid cleanliness, such as is now and anon to be met with in
country lodgings.The young woman had pushed aside the small toilet-table, and was
gazing half-abstractedly over the beauty and repose of the
countryside. Still she was quite aware of its loveliness, and she felt
somewhat soothed by the delicious calm of the soft, pure air which
caressed her young brow. It was a picturesque brow, square and
somewhat low, with a fringe of jetty curls coming down so far as
almost to touch the meeting eyebrows. The eyes, black as night, were
large, and bright, and clear. Many would have called them bold had it
not been for the long lashes which softened the effect of their
half-daring light.For the rest, the face was young and vivacious, rather than
beautiful; the features were not perfect, the nose was a trifle too
large; the mouth wide, with somewhat thick lips; the teeth were white
and even, glittering and perfect; the complexion was a very dark,
clear brunette, colorless save for the red, pouting lips. It was a
face rather difficult to read aright.There was a half-startled look in the eyes at times, as though he
girl had passed through dangers and trials that had little to do with
commonplace, nineteenth-century life. It seemed almost as if ordinary
sounds had the power to alarm this young and interesting creature, for when a blackbird in a tall
pear-tree set up a shrill, sweet piping, she started, and looked over
her shoulder, toward the small painted door of her humble chamber, as
if she had expected to see somebody or something unfriendly or uncanny
enter."What a great idiot I am!" she said, as she rose and crossed over
to the door and locked it. Had there been anybody in the little room
capable of admiring a superb figure, a certain stealthy, pantherlike,
but most enchanting gracefulness of movement, a proud yet not
aggressive carriage, that person would have found much to attract him
when looking at Vivette Carruthers for the first time.She was just twenty-one, and a splendidly formed woman. Her
admirers said she had the step of a goddess. Her waist might almost
have been spanned, but yet her dress was quite loose, only confined by
a small silk belt. Her shoulders, and bust, and long white slender
throat were the very perfection of form, and she was very tall. She
was dressed in deep mourning, a crape cloth, relieved only around the
neck by a small white muslin frilling. She wore a white
Gloire-de-Dijon rose at her breast.Vivette did not sit down again. She stood before the window looking
out over the glowing prospect, and sighed as she said:"I wonder if I shall ever be happy if only for one day before I
die? I can never remember having been happy for an hour since I was
five years old, when I used to sit on the floor and play with my dolls
while my parents quarreled about--money--and took no notice of me. I
was happy then, though my dolls were of rags, and I often enough had holes in my poor little shoes,
and the strings were off my frocks."Poor mama was not domesticated, as papa used to say. Ah, poor
soul! how well I remember the night she died! We were at Heidelberg,
and my father was out dining. We were in poor rooms in a poor street,
and it was night. Oh! and how bitterly cold! There was an open grate
and scanty fire, and I had on a thin summer dress. There were no means
to buy me a winter one because papa had had such bad luck at cards
that year."I sat and shivered, and fell to pitying myself for a forlorn child
whom nobody pitied, and only one loved. That one was my poor dear
mother. Looking back to those days, and judging her by the softening
influences of time and death," Vivette paused, and something like a
sob rose in her throat."Death!" she repeated softly to herself. "I must still think poor
mama was weak and selfish! How hard my heart must be at twenty-one
years old, must it not, that I can look back over the gulf of years
that separates me from that time nine years, I was but twelve then,
and say calmly to myself that my dead mother, who loved me in her way,
and whom I loved in mine, was selfish; but, alas! it is true!"The girl had folded her arms now, and she was walking up and down
her tiny chamber, looking at the floor with its strips of colorless
felt carpet, and the clean white boards between, just as if she were
reading thereon the sad history of her past years. She continued:"I was twelve, and my thin dress was too short for me and too
scanty, too small. I looked an awkward, graceless creature, as I
caught the reflection of myself in
the strip of looking-glass set in a panel in the wall in that foreign
chamber. I was white, and I looked old and haggard for my age; my very
long black hair fell in wild confusion on my shoulders. The ribbon
with which I sometimes tied it up was lost. I began to think how often
I was hungry, and what nasty dinners we mostly had to eat, how savage
papa was, and of how I hated him. I said to myself: 'I'll run away to
England, and become a servant. I should like to be a cook and make
pastry, roast chickens, and boil fish. Ah! what nice cakes I would
make!' I was a selfish little wretch; but then how hungry and cold I
was."She sat down now as if fatigued with the slight exertion she had
made. In reality, Vivette was of splendid physique, with perfect,
vigorous health. Nerves and brain, muscle and fiber, were all of the
strongest and the most elastic; nothing depressed her for long. She
rose with renewed powers after every rebuff. She possessed great
bodily strength, and was capable of enduring much fatigue and
exertion. It was then, with an affectation of weariness, that she
leaned forward now on the window-sill and sighed again, as she shaded
her glorious eyes with her firm white hand."I remember," she went on presently, speaking in a low though clear
voice, "I well remember how, at length, I began to sob when I had
pitied myself a considerable time, and then I heard my mother groan
horribly. There was something in the sound that startled me out of my
selfish sorrow."I leaped to my feet in terror, and without quite knowing what was
the matter, I screamed with all my might, so loud, indeed, that our
landlady, Madam Steerman, came running into the room."What a detestable old fright was that same old German
landlady. How fat her face was, and how ruddy, and yet, I don't think
I ever saw her smile in all my life. She was as cross as two sticks,
as I used to say of her when I was a child."She wore a white cap and a small yellow shawl. I can see her now,
and hear the savage tones of her gutturals. In her unpleasant German,
she vowed that those who paid least rent gave the most trouble and
made the most noise. When she drew aside the old curtain and held the
candle aloft, there lay my mother, white and gasping for breath--she
was dying."Madam set down the candle, and supported the dying head, and
muttered, I believe, something like a prayer; the next moment all was
over. I looked on the white, still face, and knew it--knew that I was
utterly alone in the world, without one single human being to care
whether I lived or died. I screamed again and fell on the ground in a
sort of faint."When I came to myself I was lying on the sofa in little
sitting-room. It was daylight, and my father was at the table, eating
his breakfast of eggs and cutlet and drinking white Hungarian wine. He
was cheerful, and strove to cheer me and to make me eat; but I hated
him for his cheerfulness and his appetite."My mother was buried, and we left Heidelberg. Oh! what a life mine
has been since with my father--always with my father; escaping from
lodgings and hotels without paying; borrowing money which we never
paid, ah! and never meant to pay."I must be clever; how else could I have picked up all the
knowledge I possess? True, I have passed all my life on the Continent,
until a month ago, and so I speak
French and German fluently, and I write them, also. I can sing, they
tell me, like a nightingale, and dance like a fairy."Music Herr Luffman taught me, poor old man, when we sojourned one
winter at Berlin; and I have always contrived to keep up my practise,
for there were always pianos in the hotels where we stayed."I have read most good French and English authors and a few German
ones. I should pass almost anywhere for an accomplished, highly
educated woman, and yet I have had no advantages whatever. My whole
life has been one series of disadvantages. I shall make my fortune
yet, though, and drive in my carriage in the London parks, and wear
diamonds and go to court."Fate owes me at least something, after all these years of
privations, and humiliations, and semistarvation." She bent her head forward."I wonder what news the post will bring me to-morrow?" said
Vivette. "I wonder if it will bring me any? I wonder if I shall really
have 'a chance in life'? If I do, I will improve upon it; oh, yes,
trust me! I have suffered enough, I know too well what it is to be
despised for one's poverty, humiliated, snubbed, trodden on, scoffed
at. How it makes me hate the world, with its pomp, its pretense, its
propriety, its pride, when I reflect on all that I have
suffered. Alas! what a life to look back upon! How long it seems--and
I am only twenty-one!"At that precise moment there came a tapping on the chamber door of
Miss Carruthers.CHAPTER
II.THE VISIT OF THE RECTOR'S WIFE.Vivette started to her feet."Walk in," said the young girl courteously. "But, oh! I beg pardon,
I have locked the door!"She walked with her queenlike step across the little room, and
admitted a little fat old woman, all curtsies, and smiles, and
apologies. Indeed, she smiled so much, and her good-natured old face
was so plump, that it was positively quite covered with creases. Her
small eyes were almost out of sight. It was impossible to look on
Mrs. Bonner's face when she was smiling, and not smile oneself."If you please, dear miss, the rector's lady is come,
Mrs. Hamilton. She wants to see you most particularly.""The rector's lady," said the girl, frowning. "I don't like
rector's ladies, they want to rule everybody. Those that I have met
abroad on their travels have been like that, and this one at home, in
her own domain, why, she will expect me to crouch at her
feet. However, I must hold the candle to--you know the old saying,
Mrs. Bonner," and without waiting for the answer of the fat landlady,
who forthwith fell into convulsions of laughter, the strange girl
hastened down the little staircase, and into the tiny parlor, where
Mrs. Bonner had laid the table neatly for the tea of her solitary
young lodger.Mrs. Hamilton was a tall woman, considerably on the wrong side of fifty. She had a
rather masculine voice, and her hair was iron-gray. She was a woman
honored and venerated, worshiped and bowed down to, in the village of
Moorcup and the surrounding districts. Moorcup Rectory was a grand
mansion. The living was worth nine hundred a year--and Mrs. Hamilton
possessed a private income of a thousand a year herself. She had been
the daughter and heiress of the richest banker in Worcester.Mrs. Hamilton had been accustomed to receive homage from all
beneath her, and in the village of Moorcup nearly everybody was
beneath her, so she had grown used to the idea of her own importance;
and, to tell the truth, this idea was a very pleasant one to her."Good morning, Miss Carruthers," said the great lady, in her deep,
masculine tones.Miss Carruthers swept the elder lady a grand bow, and said:"Pray be seated," in the tone of a young duchess who wishes to be
polite and condescending.Mrs. Hamilton was a large woman. Her rich velvet skirts were wide,
and when she sat down on the small sofa she monopolized it
completely.Vivette seated herself in the leathern armchair, and remarked, with
a smile:"This fine autumn weather seems to make amends for the wet summer
we have had.""Yes, quite so," Mrs. Hamilton answered.She was not quite at ease. She had called upon the youthful lodger
at Rosalind Cottage with the idea of setting her to rights, inquiring
into her antecedents, and lecturing her as to her future; but there
was something in the superb composure of this graceful girl with
the daring black eyes
that quite disconcerted the good lady. However, she knew that her
dinner-hour was seven, and it was a couple of miles from Rosalind
Cottage to the rectory; consequently time was precious, and she
plunged, floundered rather, into her subject with a bruskness that
astonished the girl, accustomed to the pleasing, if superficial, polish
of Continental life:"Miss Carruthers, you are very young to be living quite alone. You
have advertised for daily tuitions in the Malvern paper, but you say
nothing at all of references.""I have none whatever to give," the girl answered, with flashing
eyes and a cold smile. "If people won't have me without references,
they won't have me at all.""But surely that is very strange!" said Mrs. Hamilton."Is it?" Vivette said, with another flash in her dark eyes, another
cold smile on her red lips. "I am so new to England and to English
ways that I am quite ignorant of what is thought wrong in these remote
villages. I think you said, madam, that it was thought wrong to be
young, did you not? Well, you see," and she shrugged her shoulders
with a charming grace, "one cannot help that. One will grow old in
time, if one has patience, old, and ugly, also!"Mrs. Hamilton possessed the inestimable advantage of being
thick-skinned. Her self-esteem was of that inordinate kind which would
not allow her to recognize insults as such, even when they were
palpable, as was this rather vicious thrust of the vivacious Miss
Carruthers. If ever Mrs. Hamilton did consult her mirror, it must have
shown her a broad, crimson-colored, fat, elderly countenance; but then
the glamour as of royalty surrounded it, and she was quite convinced
that all the world
bowed down to the great lady at Moorcup Rectory."You are far too young, Miss Carruthers, to be living alone in
lodgings," said Mrs. Hamilton."Well, I only wish that I had a husband!" cried the girl. "But then
I should not wish him to live at Rosalind Cottage; for you must see,
of course, that if he could not afford anything better than this place
for a dwelling he would be miserably poor. If ever I marry, my husband
must he very rich.""Where were you brought up?" cried the rector's wife, in
despair."In no particular place. I have spent two winters amid the glories
of old Rome, and I have trodden on the graves of the past
civilizations, the ancient creeds, the grand old mythologies. I have
dwelt for two years on the borders of a Swiss lake, and I have seen
the sun rise on the Alps; I have sailed on the Venetian canals in a
gondola; I have seen the moon shining on the waters, and I have heard
the voices of the gondoliers. Besides that, I know German spas, and
have seen the vintage on the Rhine. Paris I know like my alphabet. So
that during all those years, while my 'bringing up' was being carried
on, I was learning something new about my fellow creatures.""Dear me," said Mrs. Hamilton, with a sigh, "what a sad thing! How
thankful ought our young people to be who have the advantage of being
brought up in our own dear country!"Vivette smiled another cold smile."An advantage! I beg your pardon. Not to have seen the Italian sun
shine on the Adriatic! Not to have seen the land where Cæsar
ruled and died, and Brutus fought for liberty! I don't think I care for those
advantages, I mean the advantages of dulness and stupidity. I should
think all the young people about here must become insane if they have
any wits. I suppose that is why there are so many lunatic asylums in
England. Is it so, madam?"She asked the question with the prettiest
impertinence. Mrs. Hamilton grew solemn and serious. She was really
shocked."You don't understand things," she said compassionately. "You have
led a wandering life, and you say you can give no references. People
here in England never entrust their children to young women to educate
unless they are assured of their respectability.""Then madam has called to tell me to pack up my boxes and return to
France?" Vivette asked, with a rather dangerous smile."Not that exactly," the lady answered pompously. "As the rector's
wife, I make a practise of looking after the welfare of our
parishioners. You have now lodged here alone--quite alone--for three
weeks, and you have put advertisements into the Malvern papers in
which you profess to teach German, French, the rudiments of Italian,
drawing, and singing, and you give no references! My dear intimate
friend, the Countess of Riverswood, is now at the family seat,
Cotswold Castle, visiting her married daughter, Lady Emily Taylor,
wife of Mr. John Taylor, the great merchant. Lady Emily wishes to
leave her daughters, aged seven and nine, under the care of their
grandmother, for three months, and she requires a daily governess. If
you could give any references you might be engaged, but as it
is--""You see I can't help it," said Vivette, with a little fascinating smile, no
longer cold, and her heart was beating fast. In reality, she was
agitated and excited at the chance which it seemed she was destined to
lose.Mrs. Hamilton went on:"Lord Raven will be at Cotswold all the autumn. When a young
nobleman is in the house it is always wrong to have young governesses,
so you would only be a daily 'person,' you understand? At the same
time, if you could not give references, I really don't think the
countess would care to risk you even seeing her son. As it is, Lord
Raven has given his mother much anxiety, and he is only
twenty-three.""What a terrible thing!" said Vivette, in a solemn voice. "Poor
Lady Riverswood, how much she is to be pitied. I think perhaps it
would be rather improper for me to give lessons in a family where
there is a young nobleman, and I have heard he is splendidly
handsome. I think certainly he had better keep out of my way, and I
had better keep out of his altogether.""If you could give references," said the rector's wife, and then
she paused.All the little world of Moorcup and the surrounding district paid
deep homage to this comparatively rich woman. But what is an income
under two thousand a year, and a handsome rectory, compared with a
rentroll of fifty thousand per annum, a historical castle, and a
time-honored Norman ancestry who have fought at Cressy and Poitiers!
Mrs. Hamilton was a meek and lowly woman in the presence of that
august lady whom she called "her dear friend the Countess of
Riverswood."The said countess was in a terrible hurry for a competent daily
foreign teacher for her grandchildren. If only this odd girl, with no
references, could be induced to produce some satisfactory ones, how delighted the dear
countess would he to engage her, for her ladyship was a woman of
energy. One of her pet hobbies was education, and she believed in
cramming all sorts of knowledge into her children and
grandchildren.The last time Mrs. Hamilton had been in the august presence of the
Countess of Riverswood--and that was only the day before--her ladyship
had talked incessantly on one subject, harped perpetually on one
theme, namely, her great desire to find a daily governess for Lady
Emily's children. Mrs. Hamilton guessed, by some intuition, that this
black-eyed stranger would be an excellent instructress. She would even
cheat dull pupils into learning far more than they intended to learn,
and then how delighted the dear countess would be!"But where were you educated?" she continued. "Excuse me, but you
must have been at some school or college. Where are your parents?""Ah! if you come to that," said Vivette, clasping her hands and
lowering her eyes. Then she continued in the meekest of tones: "I will
tell you my little story, madam. It is a very sad one, but it is
true--most sad stories are true!"As she spoke she raised those wonderful black eyes of hers, and
fixed them on the face of the rector's wife."Tell me, I shall be very glad to hear it, and if I can be of use
to you in any way, I shall be most happy.""The old 'cat' is more agreeable," thought Vivette. "I suppose she
wishes to gain the favor of this rich, high and mighty English
countess!"We must apologize for the rude names which this strange Vivette
called the rector's wife in her rebellious thoughts. It will he seen at a glance that
whatever other good qualities Miss Carruthers may have possessed, she
was utterly wanting in refinement of feeling."It is kind of you to listen," said Vivette, who had made up her
mind that she must conciliate the rector's wife. "Well, madam, my
father was the only brother of Mr. Gervase Carruthers, the great
London banker. You have heard of him, of course?"Now, Mrs. Hamilton bowed down with more true veneration to the
golden calf than to any other idol under the skies. She started when
she heard that this wild girl was acutally a niece of one of the
wealthiest men of the day. What was that rumor which had reached her
ears in a vague fashion? Was it not to the effect that there was a
heavy mortgage on the lands of Cotswold--that the Earl of Riverswood
owed the Carruthers' bank a sum of eighty thousand pounds, and that a
marriage was contemplated between the only child and heiress of the
banker and young Lord Raven? Was this young "person" first cousin,
then, to a possible future countess? Impossible! And yet such
astounding things really happened every day."You surprise me, indeed!" said the rector's wife faintly."My father, said Vivette, looking across her humble tea-table and
toward the little window of the parlor at the pots of musk and
geranium that adorned the window-sill, "my father was an idle, wild,
and, I might almost say, an unprincipled man. But we must not speak
ill of the dead. I always hated, or, let me rather say, I never loved,
James Carruthers, my father. My mother was an angel! She was the
orphan daughter of a poor vicar of good family in the north of
England; but a good
family does not invariably help a poor clergyman to a rich
living. Favor does that, and noble patrons."Every word the daring girl uttered was a home-thrust to the woman,
whose husband had been the son of a brewer. He had been helped to his
present rich living by his patron, Lord Riverswood, in whose gift it
lay."Well, madam, my father quarreled with his father, with his
brother, and with every one connected with him. They all ignored him,
and he lived the wildest life, gambling, billiard-playing, sometimes
making a picture or composing a piece of music, for he was a man of
versatile talents. People were willing to purchase his exquisite
water-color drawings or his waltzes. He painted and composed under the
name of Lubin."I lived with my parents and had masters occasionally, but I never
went to school. I have had no advantages, but I am sure I am competent
and qualified to teach young ladies French, German, music, and
drawing. I speak French and German even better than I speak my mother
tongue."Three months ago my father and myself were out in a boat on a lake
in the Black Forest, in Germany. The boat upset, and many of those in
it found a watery grave. I myself sank twice, but was saved by a
stranger who could dive and swim. My father was taken into the little
inn alive; but, alas! his head had come into contact with the bottom
of the boat. His skull was fearfully fractured, and he died that
night. I must beg you to excuse the haste with which I pass over these
terrible details. I am young, and I have suffered so much."Vivette paused, and put her hand to her heart. She was very pale and there was a strange
look of pain in her beautiful but tearless eyes.There could be no doubt, thought the rector's wife to herself, that
this young lady had passed through a "severe ordeal.""I saw my father buried in a little country village churchyard, and
hung a wreath of immortelles on the stone that was placed at his
head. Then I made up my mind that I would apply to my rich uncle, the
banker, and ask him to give me a competence or a home. I wrote to him,
for I knew his address. I told him how his only brother had perished,
and where he lay in a nameless grave, with only his initials cut in
the rude stone which marks the spot. My uncle answered my letter. He
sent me twenty-five pounds, not a great gift from so rich a man, and
he told me that he would invite me to visit him next Christmas when he
should form his own estimate of me and of my merits."'I must be plain with you,' wrote the great man. 'If you inherited
the qualities of your poor father you would not be a good companion
for my daughter. Meanwhile, try and get some tuitions. Go to Malvern
and advertise in the paper. I like to see young persons help
themselves. 'We,' meaning himself, his wife, and daughter, 'shall
remain in Rome until the week before Christmas, when we shall return
to Carruthers Hall, our seat in Surrey. Come the day before Christmas
day, and a room will be prepared for you.'"Well, you must know, madam, that I have in reality followed my
rich uncle's instructions to the letter. I can show you his letter, if
you doubt my words. I crossed over to England, bought some mourning,
came on to Malvern, and there, finding lodgings expensive, I left and came to this remote
village. I have put in advertisements, and you are the first person
who has answered them."Vivette paused. Mrs. Hamilton actually took out a very fine and
dazzlingly white pocket-handkerchief and wiped her eyes. Then she rose
and extended her large gloved hand to Vivette."Your story is a strange one," she said, "but the dear countess is
so liberal-minded, I doubt not she will engage you to instruct her
grandchildren. Indeed, I think I may say I am quite authorized to ask
you to call tomorrow at twelve o'clock, at Cotswold. Send in your
card, and ask to see the countess. I shall see her at ten to-morrow,
for I have several parish matters to discuss with her."Then Mrs. Hamilton swept, or rather stalked, out of the room.Fat little Mrs. Bonner had been on the watch, and she opened the
hall door, then passed out.The rector's wife soon entered her carriage, and was driven away in
pomp. She had two cream-colored horses, a coachman with a powdered
wig, while the footman, with like adornment, sat by his side.When Vivette was left alone she performed some extraordinary steps
in dancing. She made a few grimaces, then she rang for Mrs. Bonner,
who brought in her tea, and the spirited young lady made a very hearty
meal.It was a golden noontide, and the foliage of the great oaks in the
park of Cotswold glowed in the sunshine. The sky was like one pure
arch of sapphire stone.Before Vivette ran and prattled a noisy, bright brooklet. There was
a graceful bridge which spanned it a little higher up, but this girl
was light of foot and daring, if not light of heart."I will leap it," she said.Then she went back a few paces, ran, sprang into the air, and
cleared the stream with ease. "Bravo!" said a voice.She did not know where it came from. There was a clump of
elder-bushes close at hand. Then a tall young man in a suit of black
velvet, with knickerbockers, walked leisurely out from among the
bushes. He had a cigar in his mouth, and his face was handsome, with
aristocratic features and a clear, pallor. He looked at Vivette
without the shadow of a smile crossing his lip. His gray eyes were
full of a keen and subtle intelligence."If you are Lord Raven," said the girl to herself, "I will be Lady
Raven before you are six months older. You are more than
charming. Surely now I have a chance in life!""You leap well," said the young man."I never attempt to do anything that I do not succeed in doing it
well!" said the girl, with her defiant glance."Oh!" said the young man coolly. "Do you object to smoking?""On the contrary, I love it. I smoke cigarettes myself.""Oh!" said the young man again. Then looking straight at the girl,
he said: "Are you the Miss Carruthers, with the sad story, whom my
mother expects up at the house?""You are a little too insolent!" cried Vivette, with ar angry light
in her black eyes. "Whoever you are, you are no gentleman!""I am aware of that," the young man answered coldly. "I am so
eccentric, you see; but I mean no harm. There is such a quantity of
humbug and pretense, of false politeness, in the world nowadays--don't
you think so?""Tell me," said Vivette, stamping her slender foot, "are you Lord
Raven, or his valet?""Which do you suppose?" asked the young man languidly. "Not that it
can matter very much to you, I should think!"CHAPTER
III.VIVETTE MEETS LORD RAVEN."It matters to me enormously," Vivette answered, with her bright,
defiant smile. "If you were the valet, I never need speak to you
again; if you happen to be Lord Raven, and if I am engaged by the
countess as daily governess, I shall be obliged, I suppose, however
much I may dislike it, to speak to you again?""Not at all, unless you like. It would not afflict me if it pleased
you to he silent," responded the strange young man.Vivette bit her red lip. She was a daring, ambitious, clever girl,
gifted besides with considerable powers of fascination, but she seemed
to have met more than her match in this young man, with his good
looks, his cigar, and his nonchalance."Do you think I am like a valet?" he asked.As he spoke he threw the end of his cigar away, and looked with a
half-smile at the dark, animated face of Vivette."How should I know?" the girl retorted. "There are valets and
valets as there are governesses and governesses, and noblemen and
noblemen.""Yes, nature is full of varieties," responded the young man, "but
my idea of a gentlemanly valet is, that he would be quiet and
reticent.""But you may not be a gentlemanly valet, sir?""True. No, I suppose I am as rude and ill-behaved a wretch as a
young lady could well meet with on a summer's day. Must I apologize for what I have said? I
forget what it was, almost. Oh, now I recollect. I asked you if you
were the young lady with the sorrowful story, and that offended
you. Well, it was rude; I humbly entreat your pardon, and allow me to
introduce myself."He took off his velvet cap and disclosed a nobly formed head
covered with a quantity of dark curly brown hair cut close. It was a
most "picturesque head," Vivette said to herself."I am Lord Raven--Lord Charles Raven--some day, if I live, I
suppose I shall be tenth Earl of Riverswood. Are you Miss
Carruthers?""Yes, my lord, Carruthers is my name."In spite of herself the blood would rush to the dark face of
Vivette, and she said to herself that a choir of little imps set up a
deafening noise in her head, and sang a chorus in her cars that was
almost deafening. She had great confidence in her own powers of
charming and captivating mankind--and womankind, also, on
occasion--and had made up her mind that she would never marry any save
a very rich man.She had hitherto laughed at the idea of love; but then, whom had
she met with in her short life of twenty-one summers? Third or
fourth-rate natives of Great Britain out on their travels. Men who put
up at the third and fourth-rate hotels where she had sojourned with
her father. Commonplace, uncultivated, boisterous, and
good-natured. Honest and true, most probably, but totally
uninteresting to a girl of Vivette's temperament. Men who had never
excited in Miss Carruthers any other sentiments than impatience and
dislike.She had associated far more, however, with men of another caliber, musicians, artists, and
poets, whose waltzes and pictures and verses would not sell. Men whose
lips had not been touched, perhaps, by the divine fire of genius, but
who hovered forever around its light as reflected from the greater
works of those who had gone before. Men eager, impassioned, while they
were young, languid, and listless as they approached maturer
years. Long-haired, shabbily clad painters, living in stuffy garrets,
wearing old shoes, and no gloves.None of these men had ever won any other feeling than contemptuous
pity from Vivette Carruthers, though more than one half-starving and
romantic lad had laid his heart at her feet.Vivette had been regarded as an icicle and an incarnation of pride
and worldliness by all these young men, and up to this period of her
history the estimate had been just.How was it now, then, that when the chorus of little imps had
ceased, she felt a strange, wild yearning, a loss of that proud
self-reliance which had hitherto seemed as part of herself? What was
this insolent young man to her? A nobleman, heir to a great estate and
time-honored name. She wished to captivate him, and she made a resolve
to marry him. Now was her "chance in life!"But what was this insane idea in her mind to the effect that, if
Lord Raven were no better off than Adolph Garnier, the unsuccessful
sculptor of the Rue Richelieu, Paris, that if he even dwelt in a
garret, dined off thin soup, wore shoes with holes in them, and never
had his hair cut, she would still rejoice to become his wife? Was she
such an idiot, she, Vivette, as to fall in love at first
sight?Lord Raven had been standing for some time, holding his velvet cap
in his hand and looking with a half-smile	, at Miss
Carruthers."I have introduced myself," he said. "Will you not introduce
yourself, and let us shake hands and be friends?"Vivette looked down on the ground."I am Vivette Carruthers, an orphan. I must earn my own living, and
I hope to become the daily governess of your sister's children. I am
the niece of Mr. Gervase Carruthers, the London banker.""So I have heard. I was lounging in my mother's apartment when the
elderly clergywoman was announced who suggests all the reforms in the
parish to the countess, and does her bidding in return. I lay on a
couch behind a screen, reading. Neither of the ladies saw me. My
mother forgot that I was there, and then I heard the ladies talk. I
heard of the odd things you had dared to say to Mrs. Hamilton, who
often made my life a scourge to me in my boyhood, and who, later on,
has annoyed me with her interference. I found that you were 'an odd,
dashing girl, whose spirit would want curbing.' In short, you stood in
need of 'severe discipline.' I heard that I was to be 'sedulously kept
out of your way,' and that you were to be a daily governess, not to be
taken into the house 'until I marry or join my regiment in
India.'"What was that cold shudder that seemed to pass like a blast from an
approaching storm over the spirit of Vivette? Go to India or get
married? Not if there is power in a woman's will and a woman's love!
Had it come to that already with this dark, odd girl?"When I heard all this," continued Lord Raven, "I stole out and watched for you in the
park. I guessed what road you would take from the village of
Moorcup. I made up my mind that, as the rector's wife had ordained it
otherwise, you and I should become fast friends. Do you consent?"Vivette's heart was beating fast. What a chance in life was hers!
Soon, surely, Lord Raven would be at her feet, this noble-looking
young lord, with the great priceless diamonds fastening his snowy
cuffs. Surely he would make love quite as passionately as Adolph
Garnier, who had holes in his shoes, long hair, and a soiled
shirt-collar! Poor Adolph! and he was clever, too, as the girl
admitted to herself with something like pity for a pain which she was
just beginning to understand might possibly exist in this workaday
world."Speak, Miss Carruthers, will you be my friend--and my chum--during
the month or five weeks that I intend to spend at Cotswold? The old
house is most insufferably dull, and the earl is confined to his room
with gout. He has vowed, for he is a self-wilted old person, that he
won't have the place turned out of windows with visitors this
autumn. Consequently I am condemned to the inappreciable dulness of a
family-party--an irritable father, who is always scolding his
servants; a mother given to parish and educational works, and linked
like hand and glove to the parson's wife, whom I do not love, to
express my sentiments mildly; a sister with a gentle husband given to
collecting beetles and butterflies in his leisure hours, and two
children who are being daily crammed with all the knowledge under the
sun. Think of me among all these good people, and pity me."I stay here because I am tired of riot and noise, and
excitement. I love quiet, and hate the world, but I am afraid I shall not have much repose with
my gouty father and my energetic mother. She will want me to lecture
the villagers at Moorcup on the Saxon kings, or the solar system, or
Heaven knows what! Will you be my friend, Miss Carruthers, and help me
to pass the time?""Yes," said Vivette, still looking down. "I will do my best, but if
they find it out they will make a fuss, and separate us."It was not like her usual tact to use those strong, suggestive
words, "separate us." She saw, herself, what a mistake she had made
even before Lord Raven's cold laugh grated unpleasantly on her
ears."You must not use those sentimental expressions, if you please, my
friend," said the young nobleman, showing his splendid teeth in a
smile. "I am the most matter-of-fact dog under the sun. All the
romance was knocked out of me long ago. Don't think that I am asking
you to be my sweetheart, Miss Carruthers, and don't flash at me such
fiery glances. Heaven knows I mean nothing but respect, but, you see,
when two young people of different sexes enter into an agreement that
they will be friends, they ought each to understand that nothing else
is meant. There is not a woman in the whole world who could win my
heart, as it is called, because I have not one to be won. I have loved
and lost, and I shall never love again. If I marry it will be simply a
matter of business.""And the woman you love?" asked Vivette.There was a dangerous flash in the black eyes, and they seemed
together. For a moment the young face looked positively evil.Lord Raven did not see it, for he was looking through an opening in the trees at the far-away
landscape and the blue line of the Malvern Hills. His eyes had a
dreamy softness in them as he answered:"She had my heart, played with it, then tossed it away. Everybody
has heard the tale. It is a commonplace one enough. I laugh at it
myself, even. I say all sorts of commonplace things to comfort myself,
that I have had a lucky escape, that she was unworthy, in fact, twenty
things of that sort, but let her go. She has, it is true, robbed life
of its meaning for me, but I am young and strong, and I have lived it
down."But Vivette said to herself that it was not so."If he had lived it down, he would love again, he would love me."
She said this to herself in the most perfect good faith.This girl was vain to an inordinate degree, though she was too
clever to allow her vanity to be seen except by very close
observers. She thoroughly believed in the power of her own
fascinations. She knew perfectly that in the opinion of many men she
was charming. It really seemed to her that if she had been fortunate
enough to make the acquaintance of this quick-brained, handsome, and
eccentric young noble, while he was heart-whole and fancy free, that
she must inevitably have captivated his fancy and won his heart.It never struck her that he was a man accustomed to meet all the
aristocratic belles of England--a man whom the circumstances of life
compelled to mix with the world at large, not only the fashionable
world, but that lower and perhaps more fascinating world which is
peopled by actresses and artists of all kinds. It never struck her
that a man of poetic and
fastidious taste like Lord Charles Raven, might be more difficult to
captivate than the long-haired artists and German students among whose
hearts she had made such havoc."If you have not lived it down," said Vivette aloud, and with a
bright smile, while her white teeth and black eyes shone, "you soon
will, Lord Raven, but I wish that I knew the name of this lady.""Ah! well--I would rather not mention it," he said gravely."Then why did you speak of her at all, my lord?" asked Vivette
impatiently."Because--but why will you make me say these things again, my
friend?" The young nobleman frowned."Because when I become your friend I wish it to be most distinctly
understood that I can be nothing more, nothing less. When a girl has a
man for a friend she sometimes thinks she will try and turn him into a
lover. It is the nature of women to prefer love to friendship, even
love that they never mean to return, and so you might expect from me a
something more than the courtesy which I pay to all women. Something
more, even, than the sincere friendship which I am willing to offer
you on the ground that you are young, vivacious, an orphan, full of
courage, clever, and, above all, forbidden fruit."Mrs. Hamilton and my mother are most anxious to keep you out of my
way, consequently you become, in my opinion, one of the most desirable
companions I can possibly have. When you know me better, you will
understand what a fiery, impatient, rebellious nature I possess! Now
let us dismiss the subject of me and my past follies. I am a kind of chum of yours? You agree
to it, do you not?""Certainly I do!" Vivette answered. "Only tell me how are we to
enjoy each other's society if I am always teaching your nieces, or
walking out with them? If you meet us in our walks, they will, of
course, mention the interesting fact to their grandmama!""My dear Miss Carruthers, you cannot possibly think I mean to put
myself in the power of those small tattlers. No, I shall, of course,
stroll into the room while you are giving them lessons, as if by
accident, and I shall, perhaps, address a few remarks to you in a
stiff and hypocritical fashion, which will make it hard work for you
to repress your laughter. After that, in the afternoon, when your
duties are over, we will have some drives and walks together."Then, in the evenings, I will come down to Rosalind Cottage to see
you, and we will have a few delightful hours of conversation. You
shall sing to me, and I will send you a piano from Malvern. I will
also send packets with dressed game and poultry and fruit, nothing,
however, to give your landlady any trouble in the way of cooking. We
will have dainty suppers and a little good wine, and at half-past ten
I will depart. I shall leave by the quarter-to-eleven train, which
starts from Moorcup station, and puts me down close to the park gates
of Cotswold in less than ten minutes.""But, Lord Raven, what in the world are you thinking of? Where will
my character be, and my fair name, that jewel beyond all price to
every woman worthy of the name?"She was in earnest now. Her black eyes flashed angry fire. She was pale with wrath and
surprise. But Lord Raven only smiled."Don't be angry," he said, with coolness. "I shall not come as Lord
Raven--there is the point and the piquancy of the whole thing. I shall
come as your father's uncle, old Nathaniel Petersham, who is
eccentric, and a bookworm, and a linguist, and lives at Malvern. I
shall wear a gray beard and spectacles. I shall disguise myself so
that my mother will not know me. The fun of the thing, the wild,
daring fun of the thing, is its chief charm, in my opinion. One must
do something to kill time in this slow place. I mean to call at the
rectory in my assumed appearance, and shock that unmitigated rectoress
by my extraordinary sentiments on most subjects under the sun. Don't
you think the plan admirable?""No, my lord, I think it absurd, and I think you offer me an insult
when you ask me to agree to take part in such folly. Of course it
would be found out!""Yes, I think, perhaps, it would be troublesome!" said Lord Raven
quietly. "All that disguising might amuse us for a week, but it would
grow tiresome. I think, upon consideration, that you are right. We
must devise some other way of killing time, the open, daring way. I
think I will boldly follow you and the children everywhere. I will
plan picnics, to which you must he invited, and I will then devote
myself openly to you. The more you snub me the more persistent I will
be. Will that mode of proceeding please you any better?""Yes," replied Vivette. "I should be glad of an open, and brave,
and devoted friend.""And only a friend, never anything more, remember that," said the
odd young lord, as he squeezed the girl's fingers in a parting clasp. "Go up to the house, now,
and make your own bargain, but you won't see me here again to-day. I
am going shooting in the Hatton Woods."Then he raised his cap, leaped lightly over the stream, and Vivette
lost sight of him among the trees.CHAPTER
IV.THE COUNTESS OF RIVERSWOOD."I should think he must be mad!" said Vivette to herself
passionately, when she was alone, and she stamped her foot on the
ground. "What insolence, selfishness, and pride! Oh, how I hate and
detest this horrible, horrible English pride!"As she spoke, she picked a late-flowering crimson-tinted
rhododendron. Cotswold Park was famous for its splendid varieties of
this shrub. She dashed it to the ground, and trampled it under her
slender arched feet. She gnashed her white teeth, her dark eyes
flamed."He thinks he is a nobleman, and I am of the people, a girl with
whom he may amuse himself by bending her to his will. How is it that
at once he is more to me than any other creature I have met with in my
life? It must be that I shall be something--much--to him. If not now,
in the future. Yes, I will become Lady Raven and Countess of
Riverswood before two years are over! If one does not accomplish one's
wishes in two years there is little hope!"She had vented her hatred on the pride of the English aristocracy
by trampling on the late-blooming crimson flower which she had chosen
as its emblem. Now, as she approached the flowered lawns which
surrounded the front and west wings of the grand old house of
Cotswold, she assumed a meekness of demeanor which did not by any
means belong to her impetuous and fiery nature. She even lowered her
head a little. She walked
slowly and held her hands crossed one over the other, but nothing
could destroy the superb grace of carriage which was hers of
right.She walked along in her plain black dress and scarf and small straw
hat, without an atom of color in her attire save a red rose at her
waist-belt. Yet she was a most distinguished-looking individual, as a
woman thought who was looking at her from the terrace in front of the
library windows, where she was lounging on a couch. She was a splendid
woman, in the decline of life.Vivette guessed her to be the countess the moment she caught sight
of her, and her heart sank a little. She was a dashing, fearless girl,
clever, daring, and full of a natural worldly tact. Young as she was,
this enabled her to read character pretty accurately, even on a first
introduction to almost any individual. But there was something in the
keen gray eyes of this handsome elderly countess, with her aquiline
nose and iron-gray hair, which discomposed the girl's nerves and made
her heart beat fast."His eyes are like hers," the girl said to herself, "gray-blue
eyes, keen, thoughtful, searching, and fringed with black lashes. How
plainly she is dressed in white. What is the material, muslin or thin,
soft calico? She has a lace cap on her head, a white lace handkerchief
on her shoulders, fastened by that tiny antique brooch of gold, which
is her sole ornament, but she might pass for a queen."Vivette approached the countess, for that lady had signed to her,
half-imperiously, half-courteously, to ascend the marble steps which
led up to the terrace. Vivette mounted them. How her knees
trembled."I thought I could have entered into a discussion with an empress,"
said the girl to herself. "I thought I could have humbugged her
delightfully, and have made fun of her afterward, but this woman seems
to read my soul." Miss Carruthers lowered her splendid eyes, for
instinct told her that the secrets of her tumultuous young heart might
be read in their dark depths."Am I addressing Miss Carruthers?" asked the lady of Cotswold with
a smile.Vivette bowed.The countess pointed to an ottoman at a little distance from the
couch on which she sat."You are possibly tired," she said, still with her gracious but
cold smile, that meant nothing, as Vivette felt. "Sit down, pray, and
then I will ask you a few questions."The girl sat down."Am I a slave to be ordered about by this woman?" she said angrily
to herself. "I will marry her son, if only to punish her!""So you have no references to give, Mrs. Hamilton tells me?" said
Lady Riverswood, still coldly smiling."No, your ladyship. I have not taught. I am capable of teaching,
though, and I understand the system. I have often been in the same
room with governesses who were instructing young ladies, and--"The countess stopped the possible flow of words with a raised white
hand, and said with a smile: "Yes, I quite understand all that from
Mrs. Hamilton, and I know your story as you related it to her."Vivette looked close and hard at the marble pavement of the
terrace. She could not face the keen gray eyes of the
countess."It is not because you have not taught that you cannot teach,"
continued Lady Riverswood. "The art of teaching is a gift and I
imagine that you possess it. I am convinced of it from the shape of
your head and the expression of your face. I make a study of these
things."Vivette smiled a vague and sickly smile, and felt that she would
have been obliged to anybody who would have boxed her ears and called
her a cowardly wretch."Now, as I understand your tale, it is a peculiar one," continued
the countess. "You say that Gervase Carruthers is your father's
brother. Is that so?""Yes, Lady Riverswood.""And that he told you to take rooms at Malvern, and try to gain
tuitions, and so support yourself until he received you on a visit to
his country seat in Surrey? If I did not know that Mr. Carruthers was
one of the most eccentric men living, I should not believe your story;
but since I do know him, I recognize a strong probability of its
truth. Still, I shall write to him, and if his account of you tallies
with your own, I shall find my confidence in you increase. Meanwhile,
what salary do you require for instructing my two granddaughters for
four hours daily in French, German, and music?"Vivette drew a long sigh, and said:"Five pounds a month.""There will be no objection to that. You might begin at once; but I
shall be in the room and direct the studies. Do you consent to follow
my rules? You may have heard that education is one of my hobbies.""I shall be delighted!" faltered the girl.In reality she felt inclined to throw the whole thing up, and run
shrieking from the place. But she checked this mad impulse, and sat
meekly, while the countess propounded her views and talked her pet modes of
imparting instruction.Vivette listened with dull ears and a raging heart. She might have
the gift of teaching for she was a diplomatist by nature, but, all the
same, she felt that she hated it at that especial moment.The countess saw that the girl was abstracted, and wondered
why."She is not honest or true," said the shrewd lady to herself, "but
she is clever. I should almost think she had genius, or there is a
reflection of it in her eyes. Yes, I will trust her, under my
auspices, to give those children lessons for a month, and meanwhile I
will write to Carruthers. If Charles marries Elaine, and I think that
the marriage will be necessary, this girl must be married to somebody
and must go out to the colonies. We can never receive her as a cousin
of ours."Arrangements were entered into, and at length Miss Carruthers
arose, and followed the countess through the large, stained-glass
French windows into the library. When her foot sank into the velvet
carpet, when she saw the rich carvings, the pictures, the tiers on
tiers of books, all bound in colors and gold, she realized for the
first time what is the solid splendor of an English ancestral
home. Her ambitious young heart swelled."One day all this shall be mine!" she said to
herself.Every day for a week Miss Carruthers sat for four hours at a
stretch in that long room which opens with its three French windows on
that grassy lawn bounded by a belt of whispering trees. Behind them
she knows is a mimic lake, a boat-house, and a boat. She has walked around that pond once
or twice with her pupils in the stiffest and most uncomfortable
fashion."It is impossible to feel otherwise than an abject coward in the
presence of that destestable old countess," she said to herself many
times a day. As for the instructions, there was not a great deal of
difficulty in them. The countess was nearly always in the room laying
down the law and directing the course of the lessons. It seemed to
Vivette as if after all that aristocratic dame were the governess, and
not she, Miss Carruthers.The girl had not once met Lord Raven, had not once heard his name
mentioned since the morning of her first meeting with him in the
park. What a mockery it seemed that he should have offered her his
friendship and that she should have accepted it, and he had never
attempted to see her since!"If I ever meet him again," she said to herself, "he shall see that
I know how to ignore him. If he apologizes, I will smile. If he
protests, I will walk away. One thing is certain, I will be avenged if
I have to wait ten years; avenged, that is, if I do not win his
love--if it happens that he never had any intention of doing anything
except making fun of me. If I knew who the woman was that he loves,
and he loves her now, I am certain of it, let her see that she is well
guarded when I am near her."If she is playing a double game now, if she stands between him and
me, I know that I any as capable of crime as any Spanish or Italian
woman cheated of her lover by a rival. One reads of such things in
romances or sees them at the Italian Opera!"While Miss Carruthers was thinking these very violent and
unconventional thoughts, an ugly frown gathered on her brow, a frown of which she was herself
quite unconscious. It disfigured her countenance, and robbed it of its
chief charm, that bright vivacity which gave piquancy, and something
which took the place of beauty, to her dark young face.Now she did not appear at all handsome.Had Vivette known who was studying her face, her attitude, her
whole person, and taking a positively truthful likeness of her in his
sketch-book, she would have been mortified to the core. But she did
not know, nor did the artist intend that she should know.Miss Emily Taylor, daughter of Lady Emily Taylor, and granddaughter
of the Earl of Riverswood, was a young lady aged nine years. She wore
a plain brown dress and her hair was all tied up with a broad blue
ribbon, and drawn away from her rosy face.Miss Emily was constitutionally as much averse to education as her
grandmother, the countess, was devoted to it, and she hated the French
language with a genuine, thorough, and uncompromising detestation. To
her it seemed like the diabolical invention of some evil spirit. She
was not a clever nor imaginative child, but she was firmly persuaded
in her own soul that the grammar, with its masculine and feminine
terminations, was as infamous and cruel a composition as ever emanated
from a human mind.Miss Emily was reading aloud some of the rules. The countess, in
her simple yet elegant morning costume, sat on a couch, correcting and
questioning in the most matter-of-fact way. How happy the handsome
face of the elderly woman looked when she was riding her hobby most
contentedly! How distressed and puzzled was the rosy face of the
child! The dark face of the governess, who looked over the same book as her pupil, was somber
and savage. Not a handsome face with that expression on it. The brow,
naturally low, appeared vengeful, and the very dark eyes, too close
together, as they always seemed when Vivette was angry, had a sinister
look in them.The girl's thoughts were far away from the light, pleasant room and
her pupils, and her haughty patroness. She was saying to herself, "If
he does not come back soon, I won't be patient or amiable much
longer. It is not in me!" Then she heard a footstep outside and,
looking up, saw Lord Raven walking through the open French window from
the lawn.The countess was too highly bred to manifest the surprise, and
perhaps annoyance, which her son's sudden arrival gave her."Charles, what an astonishing person you are! We all thought you
were safe with your friends at Hatton Woods until the end of the
week.""Sorry to disappoint you, mother," the young man answered
languidly. "I have been under that great laurel-tree sketching you all
for the last half-hour. I was in shadow myself. You looked so
absorbed, and so amiable!"As he spoke his wicked gray eyes met the fiery dark ones of
Vivette. Not the shadow of a smile crossed his lips. He bowed very
slightly to the governess, then turned with careless ease to the
countess."I am come to beg for a holiday for the kids.""Charles, if you must use slang, pray don't do so before Emily's
children!" said the countess. "Holidays! what are you thinking of?
Youth is the time for improvement, and a very short time it is before
the frivolities of the
world begin to claim the time and monopolize the attention of the
young. I disapprove of holidays.""I am perfectly aware of that."As Lord Raven spoke he flung himself into an armchair, and, leaning
back, crossed one of his long, shapely legs over the other. It was
done in a moment, and the next instant his handsome countenance looked
as haughty, calm, and unconscious as a marble face of
Apollo. Nevertheless, the young man had winked, positively winked, at
Vivette.The color rushed to her cheeks and her heart beat. This girl had
not been brought up in lordly mansions, among earls and stately
countesses, and the rapid wink was an action after her own heart. In
an instant she forgave the careless, graceful fellow, and the flame of
love for this handsome, accomplished, intellectual, and manly lord
leaped up hotly and fiercely in her heart."He is going to propose an excursion," Vivette said to herself, and
she found that she was right in her conjecture."I want you all to come to Homond," said Lord Raven, "and have
lunch, and a dance, and come back here at eight to dine.""A dance!" the elderly countess ejaculated. "Who?""The Eversleighs--the girls and the brothers. And there is a young
Colonel Winston there, who is a nice fellow; and a man called Wilson
and myself.""Well, but whom do you expect to join the party? Your father,
myself--""No, not if you object," the young lord answered lazily. "Come if
you like, but if you won't, Miss--the governess, can come with the
ki--the children, I mean.""Certainly not!" said Lady Riverswood, primly, and a faint blush dyed her well-preserved
skin. Her voice was very calm and sweet.""Then," said Lord Raven, "bring them yourself. There are six
children visiting at Hatton Woods, and General Voyles is their happy
father. The party was got up expressly for them. Hampers of pies, and
fowls, and tongues, and wines, and fruit are sent on to the Homond. I
just came to ask you to let the children come. The carriage is at the
door. You see the weather is splendid, and the children won't be able
to learn a word after I have upset their minds like this.""It is not what I approve of, and must not happen again,
Charles."As the countess spoke she rose. Miss Emily dashed the hateful
French book to a distance on the table."Oh! May we go?" she said, in the deep, pathetic tones of childhood
when its heart is in its words. "May we go, granny?"The countess was always addressed as granny. "Yes," replied Lady
Riverswood.The two children bounded out of the room with as little ceremony as
if they had been the daughters of Farmer Brice at Cupty Grange."And you, Miss Carruthers, will have a half-holiday," said the
countess, with a cold smile, addressing Vivette. "You can go as soon
as you like, and to-morrow at ten we shall expect you as usual."Vivette smiled an unnatural smile. Her voice said thanks, but her
heart uttered something like an anathema. Lord Raven whistled a few
bars from "H. M. S. Pinafore."CHAPTER
V.LORD RAVEN'S ANCESTRAL HOME.Vivette Carruthers arose with a graceful dignity, and an apparent
composure, when Lady Riverswood gave her her orders, or permission, to
return to her cottage for the rest of the day.Miss Carruthers began to put away some of the schoolbooks which her
excited young pupils had left carelessly lying on the tables. She
walked with the step of an empress across the wide floor of the
schoolroom, and arranged the books upon the shelves with a leisurely
calmness.Scarcely anybody could have guessed what a tremendous passion
filled the whole soul of the graceful, brown-complexioned governess,
for her manner left nothing to be desired. She was polite, quiet, and
respectful, without being in the least humble.But Lord Charles Raven, while he leaned back in the armchair with
his feet extended, and beat a tattoo upon the floor with the heels of
his elegant boots, quite understood what a state of mind the young
woman was in, for all her outward calm. There was to him something
very piquant and refreshing in the spirit of this girl "She is
original in her character, and intensely interesting," he said to
himself."She is worth a great wagonette full of the dull kind of people I
shall meet at this picnic," said the young nobleman to himself. "I
think she has a vile temper, and if she is very conscientious I am
wrong in my estimate of
this beautiful creature. But she has a warm heart and she is capable
of self-sacrifice. Toward those she loves she would be as true as
steel. But, never mind. Patience, my dear countess! I think we two
shall outwit your ladyship within the course of a very short
time!"Thus Lord Raven communed with himself while he kicked his heels on
the floor and whistled softly and sweetly.All at once Miss Carruthers came and stood before the countess, who
would not have left her handsome son alone with the daily governess if
anybody had offered her a diamond half the size of a walnut to do
so."May I beg a favor of your ladyship?" asked Miss Carruthers, with a
smile which showed her white and glittering teeth.The Countess looked up, not with the heartiest expression of
good-will upon her handsome face."What is it, Miss Carruthers?" she inquired coldly."Impetuous girl! Is she going to ask the countess to take her to
the picnic?" asked Lord Raven of himself."I have never in my life been all over a great country mansion, an
English chateau," said Miss Carruthers, fixing her eloquent eyes on
Lady Riverswood, "and I have a great desire to see the
picture-galleries, the suites of reception-rooms, and the
guest-chambers. Since your ladyship and my pupils and Lady Emily will
all be out, I thought I might venture to ask the housekeeper or one of
the servants to show me the place.""Well--yes--I suppose there can be no objection to granting the
request of the children's governess, can there, Raven?"The countess addressed her son as a mere matter of form. That distinguished-looking young
fellow had by this time thrust his hands very deeply into his
pockets. His feet were very widely stretched out. Indeed, had he not
been well formed, with a graceful length of limb, one would have
called the position of the young lord awkward and ugly. As it was, he
only looked a little unconventional."It can't possibly matter," he said laconically, and then went on
whistling with the utmost unconcern."Then I may, perhaps, walk in the grounds until your ladyship
leaves?" said the daily governess, with another fascinating smile.Lady Riverswood never for an instant forgot her dignity nor the
social positions of those with whom she conversed. Nothing would have
induced the countess to smile as sweetly upon this orphan girl as upon
an equal. To tell her that she hoped she would enjoy the sight of the
picture-galleries, the armor-room, the sculpture-galleries, the
music-room, and those ancient state apartments where once Queen
Elizabeth had dined, breakfasted, and slept, would have been beneath
Lady Rivers wood's dignity.Lady Riverswood was proud, in her way, of Cotswold, for it was one
of the chief show-places in the Midlands. But she had no sympathy with
the sentiment of a person in the position that Miss Carruthers
occupied. She never addressed a governess save as a governess. The
mother of Lord Raven was one of the haughtiest of English
dames. Notwithstanding her educational hobby, she was not one to admit
the possibility that a universal system of good education would place
the world on an equality, and in time level the distinctions of
rank.The incongruous elements that went to make up the character of the Countess of Riverswood
were paradoxical.One fact remained certain; if ever there lurked antagonism and
dislike that almost might be called hatred, in any human soul, it
abode, and flourished, and grew with vigorous luxuriance in the young,
ambitious heart of Vivette Carruthers toward the countess.Miss Carruthers flung a red shawl over her shoulders and made a
graceful bow to the countess. She passed out through the French window
to the lawn, and from there into a thick shrubbery that was planted at
the foot of the wide, velvet grass-plot. It was one of those lovely
days in late autumn, when the air is soft as in early June. The
atmosphere seemed bathed in a dreamy, delicious calm. There were white
mists against the far horizon, which the sun caught and glorified, and
the sky was blue as the sapphire stone. The foliage, yet thick and
luxuriant, was stained with the purples, crimsons, and ambers of the
fading year. Vivette, wrapped in her crimson shawl, her dark head held
aloft, formed a picturesque figure in that autumn woodland, and any
painter, however fastidious, might have coveted her for a model. She
found a path wide enough for two to walk abreast. Up and down this
path she paced alone with her firm, light footsteps, talking to
herself all the while, but looking every now and then through the
openings in the trees at the towers and turrets of the grand house of
Cotswold."There is something treacherous in the softness and the dreamy
languor of the day," said the girl to herself. "There is something
that reminds me of the smiles of a false, flattering friend. I have no
such friend that I know of." she went on, looking now on the ground as
she spoke to herself. "I
have never made many friends. I have thought my heart cold and only
tuned into one key, which was the desire to be rich, great, and well
placed, possessing gold, reveling in luxuries, and surrounded with
pomp and magnificence."I am as eager, it is true, for all these as I ever was, only that
clever, cynical face comes and mocks me. I read in the light of those
gray eyes what the poets have sometimes written, that the world may
well have been lost for love! For love!" she repeated, with a dreamy
look in her dark eyes and a faint smile on her full, red lips. "But I
am an idiot to think of these things." As she spoke she stamped her
long, slender foot impatiently upon the path, and continued: "Is he
not monarch of all he surveys, or at least heir to the monarch? If I
win his love, must I of necessity win his wealth also? How delightful
to defy and mock that world to which I have hitherto been forced to
cringe! If he, Lord Raven, wanted wealth, and if I could bestow it on
him! But there go the carriages down the drive. They are gone, then,
he and his hateful mother, and the children whom I am worried with
daily. Their mother, too, handsome, placid, silly, unlike her brother,
has gone, and now I am free, I suppose, to return to the house. I
thought he would have come to speak to me before starting. I see that
he is afraid of his mother, but I am certain that he thinks of me,
perhaps as eagerly as I think of him!"Then Miss Carruthers walked out of the shrubbery across the lawn,
and through the French window into the schoolroom. Yes, they were all
gone, the place was quite deserted. Vivette looked round her
stealthily and listened eagerly for a voice or a footstep. It seemed
to her that in a moment or so Lord Raven must come out of some passage or corridor, and stand
before her, with that earnest look in his gray eyes, that half-mocking
smile on his well-chiseled lips. But Lord Raven did not come out of
any passage or anteroom, and Miss Carruthers went from the schoolroom
into the back hall, and from there into the great front
entrance-hall.She walked up to the fireplace, a wide, antique one, with an
enormously high carven chimney-piece, and there she stood for a little
space waiting for somebody to come to her. She was not disappointed in
this modest expectation. The countess had, in fact, given orders that
the governess of her grandchildren was to be shown over Cotswold.Presently Vivette heard a light step and a slight cough, and
turning hastily, saw a thin lady in black, who wore a white cap
surmounting the reddest of red curls. The woman was forty, or
thereabouts, and something ladylike in her appearance and manner."Who on earth are you?" was the uncourteous address which rose to
the lips of Vivette, but she smiled a fascinating smile and bowed her
dark, graceful head as she waited for the stranger to speak."I believe I am addressing Miss Carruthers," said the woman in
black."Yes; oh, yes! And whom have I the pleasure of speaking to?"
continued Vivette, with her charming smile."I am only Miss Sparks," said the lady. "I am the niece of
Mrs. Crofton, the housekeeper. Her ladyship has left word that you are
to see over the house, the staterooms, and the picture-galleries:
Mrs. Crofton is rather stout and the staircases fatigue her, so that
I shall have much
pleasure in showing you over the house, that is, if you have no
objection.""I shall be charmed, and I do not know how to thank you
sufficiently!" cried Vivette. "Let us go at once, that is, if you have
no objection."Miss Sparks declared that she should be delighted, and Miss
Carruthers began her tour of the old manorial dwelling at once. The
wide, oaken staircase, with its carven balustrades, was covered on the
oak-paneled wall at the left hand by numerous paintings of gods and
goddesses and classic nymphs, painted by some of the Italian
masters. "Priceless," said Miss Sparks, pointing to a huge Venus with
attendant Cupids. "That has been attributed to Veronese, but Lord
Raven laughs and calls it a vile copy. For my part, I am no judge of
pictures, and I care nothing for these classical subjects.""Neither do I," cried Vivette, "but, taken as a whole, how grand
that collection of paintings is! What a pride, what an honor to be
born the heir of a great house like this. How happy Lord Raven must
be!""He ought to be," Miss Sparks said, with a slight clearing of her
throat and a peculiar gleam in her small gray eyes, which was not lost
upon Vivette. "And now, you would like to see the state
drawing-room. Queen Elizabeth and her attendant ladies occupied this
suite of rooms once for a week."They stood on a wide landing. Several doors opened upon it. Miss
Sparks opened one door, and Vivette was looking into a long, grand,
ghostly room. At the farther end was a large window of stained glass,
the floor of which was composed of inlaid polished woods of various
colors. In the center was spread a rich carpet of Persian manufacture. All the walls of this
state-chamber were paneled. Each panel was oval-shaped and framed in
gold and ebony. Each contained a life-sized, full-length portrait,
either of some distinguished royal personage, or else of some ancestor
or ancestress of the family of Raven, created Earls of Riverswood in
the reign of Queen Anne.The stiff, high-backed chairs were all of green velvet, framed in
gold and ebony, and were ranged against the walls. The couches, all of
the same costly green velvet, stood at various parts of the vast room
and there were inlaid tables and cabinets all loaded with priceless
china and silver and gold ornaments, many of the latter set in
precious stones."This room was furnished in exactly the same manner when Queen
Elizabeth paid Lord Baron Raven a visit," said Miss Sparks. "Of course
all those couches would have been moth-eaten by now, but the family
have always furnished the room in precisely the same fashion. Every
few years the chairs are upholstered afresh in the same kind of green
silk velvet, and a carpet of the same pattern is manufactured. That is
Lord Raven of the last century, great-great-grandfather to Lord
Charles of the present day. Did you ever see so striking a likeness?
There is only a difference in the dress. It might be a likeness of his
lordship. I hope my Lord Charles will have a happier fate than his
ancestor."Miss Carruthers stood with folded arms, parted lips and dilating
eyes, spellbound before that dead and gone Lord Raven."What a beautiful face!" the girl murmured, "but sad, and stern,
and thoughtful, and yet mocking. I have seen the present Lord Raven,
and the likeness is so remarkable that I should have been inclined to think that he had
costumed in that picturesque dress of the time of the old régime. That
long, white satin waistcoat, flowered with gold; that coat of blue
velvet, embroidered in the same style; the knee-breeches of crimson
silk damask; the white silk stockings and black shoes with diamond
buckles; the powdered wig. None disguises the wonderful
likeness. Surely, Miss Sparks, Lord Raven dressed as a courtier of
George the Second's time, and some clever man has painted his
portrait."But Miss Sparks smiled, and shook her head with its white cap and
red curls."Everybody asks that question," she said; "that is, everybody who
knows Lord Raven by sight, and who does not know the family
history. That gentleman was painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds, as you may
see by consulting this catalogue, and never lived to be Earl of
Riverswood. His history was a strange one. He was killed in a duel
before he was twenty-five, and he left a widow and an infant son, who
afterward became Earl of Riverswood, grandfather of the present
earl."Oh, tell me his history," exclaimed Vivette. "There is something
so penetrating in the wise, gray eyes, and the smile is so sad and
sweet.""Lord Raven of the present day," said Miss Sparks, "seems to
inherit the obstinacy, self-will, talent, beauty, and eccentric good
nature of his ancestor, but I hope he will never come to so sad an
end. There is a weird old prophecy to the effect that he is to marry
beneath him, as his ancestor did, and die by the hand of a woman."A cold shuddering seized Vivette when Miss Sparks repeated this
absurd old prediction in such solemn tones."A woman's hand," she said to herself. "Not mine! not mine! not mine! Heaven pity me if I am
doomed to love this man, and be mocked by him, and then if I should go
mad and take his life!"Vivette was gifted with great self-command, and she could suffer
fear, mortification, and pain, and her heart might rage within her,
yet she could smile gaily and appear unconcerned, even pleased. Miss
Sparks wondered to see how pale the governess had grown, though she
still smiled and showed her white teeth."Dear me," she said, "I am afraid that you are nervous, and cannot
bear to hear these terrible old tales, with which these ancestral
halls abound. For myself I have strong nerves and I delight in
them. Nobody thinks of believing in these old predictions
nowadays.""I am imaginative, that is all," said Vivette, "but now, since you
have begun, do tell me the history of the Lord Raven who married so
much beneath him and was killed in a duel!"CHAPTER
VI.THE STORY OF THE DUEL."He fell in love with a worthless singing-woman and married her
secretly," said Miss Sparks. "Then he found that she had all the time
loved a man of her own nation. She was a Pole, and bad a wonderful
voice, which quite fascinated the English public of those days. Her
husband found a letter from this Polish count. It was meant only for
the eyes of Lady Raven, his wife, to see. In this letter the man told
her to keep her marriage hidden, for fear that the old earl should
disinherit his son. 'When he is earl,' the man said, 'you can take
your diamonds and a few thousands, and join me in France.'"Well, this rash young man sent a challenge to his rival, and they
met in the grounds of this very house, down by the fish-pond about a
mile from here. The Pole put a bullet into the young lord's heart, and
ran away. They found the unfortunate young man weltering in his blood,
close by the side of the pond. He was quite dead."Of course there is a legend attached to that place. They say that
the young lord walks round and round that pool on moonlight nights,
sobbing, and wailing, and holding his hand to his bleeding side. Many
country folks are prepared to swear that they have met him there, and
that when his powdered wig is off, he wears his own dark hair.""But tell me, please," cried Vivette, "what became of the faithless wife, whose wickedness brought
all this misery upon her husband?""Well, she was punished, so I have heard," replied Miss Sparks,
with a smile."But I hope she was well punished!" cried Vivette eagerly."She was driven away by the family, and they took her child, who
was really the lawful heir to the earldom. She did not care much for
that, perhaps. She took what few jewels and what money she could
seize, and she fled over to France and joined her lover. He would not
marry her when he found that, through her misconduct, she could claim
nothing out of the estate. She went again on the stage, but in the
course of time she lost her voice and was reduced to beggary."Then she came over to England and begged in the London streets of
her own son, who, though young, had then succeeded to the Earldom of
Riverswood. He placed her in the Hampton Court Palace, among other
titled ladies of reduced fortunes, and there she died.""Too good for her," cried Vivette. "I would have had her scourged
at a cart's tail all through the London streets if I had been queen in
those old days. So that was the end of the man whose classic face and
thoughtful gray eyes are so interesting. I could hardly have thought
that he would have loved an actress.""But the sweet voice of a beautiful woman has much power to win the
souls of men and to enchant their senses," said Miss Sparks, who was a
shrewd woman. She loved gossip, and the discussion of other folks'
affairs, dispositions, and prospects."Now, our present young lord, as all the world knows, has had a
love-affair, a most desperate passion for an actress, Lola Lomond, she called herself. She jabbered
French as badly as she did English, but in both languages she had a
fluent tongue. She was quite heartless and came out on some provincial
boards with a traveling company. Somehow she took the public by storm,
without anyone being able to give a sensible reason for the
phenomenon, but so it was."When she came to London she was engaged at the Grand Duchess
Theater, where all the highly colored comedies come out, and her
success was perfect. She has a voice, they say, high and clear, that
she manages admirably, but there is not one note of sweetness in it,
and she acts the parts of high-spirited, shameless, viragoes to
perfection. She is, I know for a fact, the daughter of a man who sold
milk, butter, and sausages in a small shop in the Island of
Jersey. This Lola was then called Letitia Dufoy, and she often served
in the shop. I have heard that her manners are those of a milkmaid,
yet this is the woman who has won the heart and turned the head of our
young lord!"Vivette's eyes had dilated while she was listening to this strange
tale. Her color came and went, and her bosom rose and fell with her
quick breathing."And what became of her?" she asked. "Is she very beautiful?""She is the Duchess Offendoff. She captivated an immensely wealthy
Russian duke, who is extremely homely. His face is like a skull, with
flat nose and projecting teeth. He is also bald and wears no wig, for
he suffers in his head and could not bear the heat. He is over fifty
years of age, and Lola is twenty-five.""Lord Raven told his father that he would never marry anybody save
this actress."'No secret marriage,' he said. The countess would, I am sure, far
rather have seen him dead than to be married to the daughter of the
milk-merchant. 'I will marry Lola in the face of, and defiance of, the
world. I will marry her next week,' were his words."He had come to ask his father for a thousand pounds for the
expenses of the honeymoon. Did you ever hear of anything so daring?
The earl stormed."'I will never look upon you again,' he said. 'I will cut off every
shilling and every acre from you that is not strictly entailed, and I
will leave to others all the furniture, pictures, plate, and family
jewels, all the gems and works of art. Your offspring shall inherit
nothing save the empty title, this empty house, and the rental of land
to the amount of two thousand a year. These I cannot keep from you;
but I shall stop the allowance of seven hundred a year which I have
hitherto allowed you, and I shall proclaim to the world publicly that
I have nothing whatever to do with you, that henceforth you are no son
of mine, except in name.'"I saw the face of my lord when the earl spoke so, and I shall
never forget it as long as I live, it was so proud and defiant, so
disdainful of the opinions of the world and of his parents! He was all
the time elated with a lefty pride and self-reliance. But then, poor
youth, he thought he was sure of the love of that daughter of a
milkman."He looked at his mother and said, 'Farewell, mother,' And she
answered, 'My son, you have chosen your own path, and you must be
content to tread it to the end without any help from your father, or
from me. Pause and reflect before you decide.'"And he answered; with all the pride of the Ravens flashing in his eyes, 'Mother, I have decided
long ago; my life henceforth belongs to Lola, my wife.'"'The daughter of a milkman!' said the countess, with a cold
smile. 'No,' he answered, 'but the ideal heroine of all my boyhood's
dreams. She whose love will crown my manhood with wifely devotion and
woman's faithfulness.' Then Lord Raven bowed to his parents and left
the room."I began to cry, for I am seventeen years older than my lord. I
have often rocked him to sleep in my arms when he was a little child,
worn out with play. His nature is sweet and loving, with deep
affections, and an honest, manly heart. I have lived at Cotswold with
my aunt, the housekeeper, ever since I was seven years old. This grand
old place is my home, and I love the earl and the countess and their
children.""I wonder you can love the countess," began Vivette,
impetuously. Then she flushed, stopped short, and bit her lip in some
confusion."I understand," said Miss Sparks. "She is cold, and one of the
proudest women in the world. If she ever suffers anything she never
allows another person to know it. She shows no love even to her
husband and children.""Hateful!" murmured Vivette. Then aloud she said "But tell me how
it came to pass that Lord Raven did not marry this woman to whom he
had given his heart?""Because, when Lola heard the hard terms which the earl had made,
and understood that marriage with Lord Raven meant absolute poverty,
for until the earl's death Charles Raven would have been penniless;
when she heard him talk of studying for the bar, and earning a living by writing novels or
political pamphlets, she told him plainly that she hated poverty, and
would not wait for dead men's shoes."For my own part," continued Miss Sparks, "I think that the woman
was right, and if she showed her selfishness she also showed her
common sense."I know when my lady heard that the actress had married an
enormously rich Russian, and had appeared at a ball in a black velvet
Princess robe, buttoned all down the front from the throat to the hem
of the skirt with rubies as large as florins--the rubies were of the
first water, and valued by the great jeweler, Ephraim Goldhouse, of
Bond Street, at one hundred thousand pounds--I know that when the
countess heard this news, a sparkle came into her handsome eyes and a
smile on her lips. As for Lord Raven, he bore the blow like a hero;
his is indeed a strong and resolute nature. He believed that happiness
for him meant love and nothing else, but when the 'milk girl' as we
all call her among ourselves at Cotswold, threw his love away, he
looked the future sternly in the face, and prepared to meet life like
a man."He did not go abroad, nor plunge into any especial
dissipation. His parents sent to invite him to return, and he
returned. The past is never mentioned now between them. Lord Raven has
made up his mind that he can never love again. He means to go into
Parliament and marry an heiress, for there is a mortgage on
Cotswold."Lord Raven has not become a woman-hater, but he is cynical. The
memory of his disappointed love has given a bitter flavor to his life,
but not to his temper. He is the kindest of friends to the poor. In
politics he is an ardent Liberal, whereas his family have hitherto always represented the
Conservative interest. The countess fears he may fall in love a second
time with some one beneath him. I think there is not the remotest
danger of that.""I should think not!" Vivette spoke faintly, but in her heart she
said, "He shall love me!--me!--me only, in all this wide world, before
long. I will win his heart! Yes, if it costs me my life!""Tell me, Miss Sparks," said the young girl, "how long ago it is
since all this happened and since Lola married?""Eighteen months," replied Miss Sparks. "Lola is now in Russia with
her husband. He did not bring her here last London season.""Is she beautiful?"Miss Sparks curled her lip."You may buy her photograph any day in Regent Street for sixpence,"
she answered, "in all kinds of costumes. No, she is ugly. She has a
dark, short, small face, with no forehead and meeting black
brows--features that somehow recall the Egyptian faces to one's
memory. Her lips are thick and she has long, narrow, glittering dark
eyes. Her complexion she makes herself. It was pink and white, of
course. Her hair was black, thick, and curly, and her figure superb. I
suppose it was her majestic form and fine voice that caught my lord,
for she had no beauty and no brains.""And have they fixed on the heiress he is to marry?""Yes, that is all arranged between her father and the earl. She
will have the largest fortune in England. Her name is the same as
yours, Carruthers, the daughter of the great banker. They say she is
gentle as an angel, and is
gifted with much intellectual power. She is handsome, too, they
say."Vivette turned away. Her face was flushed and her heart beat
fast."I am the first cousin of that Miss Carruthers," she said. "Her
father and mine were brothers, and the countess knows it.""Ah! the Carruthers are a good family!" cried Miss Sparks. "They
have been bankers for three centuries, the founder of their family was
a Sir William Carruthers, who was knighted after the battle of
Cressy. So you are a lady! Well, you look like one."Vivette turned away and walked toward the window, which was
open."There is a woman with a baby in her arms on the lawn," said
Vivette.As she spoke she pointed to a shabbily clad figure carrying a large
baby and a small bundle tied up in a blue cotton handkerchief."Some gipsy who has mistaken the way. Oh! if my lord the earl sees
her through his window, which faces this way, he will be enraged!
Since the earl has had the gout he has been so irritable."Miss Sparks went out on the balcony and called to the woman."Go round! You should not come to the front of the house. What do
you want?""I want to see Lord Raven!" answered an impassioned voice. "I will
see him--he may think to hide from me, but I have found him out! I am
his lawful wife!""You are a madwoman!" cried Miss Sparks; and the next instant she
added, "Good gracious! here is Lord Raven crossing the lawn. Why, he is waving his handkerchief
to you, Miss Carruthers.""And in another moment he will be face to face with that woman!"
cried Vivette, in excitement. "See, she is going toward
him!"CHAPTER
VII.MARGARET FISHER.Vivette watched the approaching figure with the most intense
interest. The deepest possible excitement of brain and thought were
hers at that moment, but her outward manner was composed.Miss Carruthers had, as we know, a wonderful command over
herself. She could be inwardly in raging anger, yet smile sweetly in
the face of the person who annoyed her and roused her wrath. Miss
Sparks could not have known, even had she watched the face of the
graceful girl, what a tempest of agitated feeling was disturbing her
whole soul, as she stood erect and smiling, a little pale, perhaps,
but quite calm.She saw Lord Raven pass the woman and merely address a few words to
her, then raise his hat and disappear under the great entrance-porch
of the mansion. The woman, meanwhile, had retired a few yards, and
then she had what Miss Sparks called the consummate impertinence to
seat herself under a great mulberry-tree on the lawn, from which
position she could command an entire view of the house."He must have told her, I suppose, that he would speak to her
presently," said Miss Sparks. "What a great pity he did not send the
baggage off about her business at once. No doubt she is some shameless
creature who loves dress and extravagance, and he has been foolish
enough to number her among his acquaintances in town. So she comes
here trying to make a sensation, and
to frighten him out of money. She has probably heard what strict,
strait-laced people the earl and the countess are, and she imagines
that my lord will give her anything to leave the place. I wish,
though, that he had not allowed her to sit down there in the very
sight of the house.""You do not think, then, that the woman's tale is true? You do not
think that Lord Raven has deceived her with a false certificate of
marriage, nor that he is in truth her husband?""I am sure my lord would be far too honorable to deceive anybody,"
said Miss Sparks. "And as to marrying a creature like that, it shows
you have not taken much notice of Lord Raven if you fancy such a
thing.""How should a person in my position take notice of a nobleman like
Lord Raven?" asked Vivette meekly.All the while the girl was looking toward the gilded, oak-paneled
door at the farther end of the long, grand room, half-expecting to see
it move back and Lord Raven enter. Surely he had come back solely to
seek her? When he found that "that detestable old creature, Lady
Riverswood"--so Vivette called the countess in her heart--would not
allow Miss Carruthers to go to the picnic, he had made up his mind to
return to Cotswold and to spend the day with her."Oh! his beautiful, proud face!" said the girl. "How I long to see
it! And the deep, thrilling tones of his voice, how I long to hear
them! Oh! why does he not come?"But Lord Raven did not enter the Queen Elizabeth drawing-room, as
that long, grand apartment was called. "Now, you would like to see the
armor and sculpture-gallery," said
Miss Sparks, moving toward a door which stood partly ajar.Vivette followed rather listlessly. She had at once lost interest
in the grand ancestral hall which ten minutes ago she had been so
anxious to explore. Lord Raven, whom she had thought some miles away
on the road to the picnic, and whom she had not expected to see until
the next day, was in the house. Had he come back to seek her?She walked like one in a dream, or under the spell of some fairy
enchantment, through the long, dim armor-room at Cotswold. The armor
there was said to be as fine as that in the Tower of London. There had
been Barons Raven as far back as the time of the Wars of the Roses,
and the Ravens had fought on the side of Lancaster.Miss Sparks was an intelligent person. She had many legends to tell
of the various young knights, the younger sons of the brave house of
Raven, who had been distinguished for chivalry and courage, knightly
honor and faithfulness unto death, in those dark old times of blood
and cruelty.Vivette listened, and her heart swelled."Is he a worthy descendant of these long dead and chivalrous
knights?" she said simply.As she spoke she put her long, white hand upon a suit of exquisite
chain-mail armor. There was the cuirass and the leg-gear, even the
boots. It was a complete suit of mail, and only wanted the living form
of some handsome, stalwart knight to fill it out."Sir Rupert, third son of the then Baron Raven, fought in that suit
at the battle of Poitiers," said Miss Sparks. "He was killed there and
his squire sought out his body and
gave it a Christian burial in a chapel near the spot. The suit of
armor he brought home. Long afterward, in the reign of Queen Mary, the
then Baron Raven had the bones of his relative carried home and laid a
second time to rest in the nave of the cathedral at Worcester, which
is our county town. He died single, but a girl to whom he was
betrothed went into a convent when the news came of his death. Her
name was Lady Anna Lyle. She worked all the coverings of the chairs in
the next room and all the tapestries against the walls. Have you ever
seen a tapestried chamber?""I have seen several abroad," Vivette answered. "Indeed, I have
been once in a convent and have seen the nuns at work."But she spoke listlessly. She was straining her ears in the hope of
hearing the firm approaching steps, of Lord Raven in the next room. A
horribly annoying thought struck her.Suppose that Lord Raven had not come with the least intention of
seeing her, but only on some business of his own. Then the woman who
had seated herself in the October sunshine, under the mulberry-tree,
would contrive soon to see him. Who could say that her story was not
true? Indeed, the more Vivette recalled the deep earnestness of the
young person's tone, the more convinced she felt that she had, or at
least fancied she had, some kind of claim upon Lord Raven. Perhaps
they were together now, and his arm encircled the waist of the
creature who claimed to be his wife. Thus far had the young lady
carried her train of self-tormenting thought when she really did hear
the door at the end of the room open. She turned, quite expecting to
see Lord Raven, but perceived only a footman."My lord sends you word, Miss Carruthers," said the man in powder,
speaking with dignity. "My lord sends you word, Miss Carruthers, that
he has had lunch laid for you in the study, and any time that you like
to come it is ready."Vivette felt the telltale blood stain her dark face and slender
throat."How kind," she murmured; "I really feel hungry; I--""Then we had better go down to the study at once," said Miss
Sparks, with composure, "for if you have seen so much tapestry abroad
you will not care for the tapestried chamber.""No," said Vivette quietly, "I have really seen so many of
them."Miss Sparks curled her lip a little. She was not an ill-natured
person, but she was shrewd and knew something of the world and its
ways."Poor, dear young person," she said to herself, "does she fancy
that my lord is going to sit down to lunch with her?"Then Miss Sparks led the way back again through the armor-room and
Queen Elizabeth's drawing-room, and down the grand staircase into the
hall. She then conducted Miss Carruthers along a corridor, paved with
exquisite colored marble, and opened a door."This is the study," she said.Vivette entered, and as she looked around her heart sank. Lord
Raven was not there! The same footman who had come to call her was
engaged in putting some hot covered dishes on a table which was
daintily laid for one. The savory odor of the roast partridges, hot
game pies, and oyster patties might
have provoked the appetite of an epicure.It was only the usual hot lunch provided daily at Cotswold for the
countess and her guests, but why was this solitary repast spread for
this young girl with so much state? Vivette glanced restlessly,
anxiously about her. There was not a sign of Lord Raven. The
disappointment almost took her appetite away. But Vivette was young
and strong. She had been up for hours, and had walked far through the
keen air, and had breakfasted on nothing more relishing than stale
bread and butter and very tasteless tea. The water had not boiled that
morning at Rosalind Cottage!Vivette was bitterly disappointed. The tears rose in her eyes, but
she was hungry and the lunch was very, tempting."Then I will wish you good morning, Miss Carruthers," said Miss
Sparks, extending her rather red, thin hand to Vivette. "I am glad you
like Cotswold, and I hope you will enjoy your lunch.""Oh, thank you!" said Vivette. "I am so very much obliged to you,
Miss Sparks, for the trouble you have taken to amuse me."Miss Sparks then went away and the governess was left to her lonely
repast. The tall footman had placed wine and fruit within her
reach. The game was carved ready to transfer to her plate. The man,
much to her relief, withdrew, and Miss Carruthers began to eat, slowly
at first, but presently with much zest and appetite. When she had
finished her partridge, she helped herself to some entrée that stood
near her, and found it excellent.After that she pushed her plate away and took another, on which was exquisitely painted a
likeness of Madam De Pompadour, and helped herself to a bunch of
grapes. Then Miss Carruthers ventured to lift the richly cut crystal
decanter which contained the Sauterne, yellow like amber and of
exquisite bouquet, which was the favorite wine of the earl.She poured herself out a large glassful, which she drank, and ate
her grapes, then she leaned back in her chair, and began, as we almost
all of us do when we are refreshed by pleasant and strengthening food,
to take a more cheerful view of life. How beautiful this little study
was, with its blue velvet chairs and rich Axminster carpet of the same
hue, and its marble and ebony carved sideboard! Why it was called the
study was a mystery. Certainly there was an elaborately carved stand,
divided into compartments, all of which were filled with books in rich
binding. Vivette ventured to take one or two of them down and to open
them."Poets," she said, "editions of Tennyson, Byron, and Shelley. Then
here we have Goethe and Dante, both in the original." She put the
books back again. "How delightful to be a countess and to own such a
room as this! What a delicious face has that girl with the corn-sheaf
on her head. I have seen the original of that in the Louvre, but this
is an exquisite copy. I could copy that myself. I could read Goethe's
'Faust,' or the 'Inferno' of Dante in the original. Why should I not
make a charming and adorable countess?"Other women, older, plainer, less clever than I am, have managed
to marry marquises, and even dukes, before now. Other women, with
lower, darker antecedents than mine, and, up to this time, there is
not one spot, one blemish on my life. Yes, I could hold up my head with the best of them, if only
Charles Raven would make me, first, his wife, and then his
countess. Only they tell me that he is to marry my cousin, Elaine
Carruthers. I wonder if that tale is true." She paused, and stopped
short in her ambitious love-dream, for looking in at the French window
was the woman who had made that startling announcement that she was
the wife of Lord Raven!It was odd that Vivette had almost forgotten her for the last
half-hour. Miss Sparks had made light of her insolence, and had
apparently felt so perfectly satisfied that she was only an impostor
seeking to extort money, that Vivette had fallen in with the
idea. Now, here the woman stood, a palpable, real presence, staring in
at Vivette, with her large, sad, gray eyes, and holding up a ragged
child in her arms, to show that she was its mother and was not ashamed
of it.Vivette was a girl who very frequently acted from impulse. She
unfastened the French window and invited the woman to enter the
study. The woman did not hesitate, but when she found herself in the
elegant room, and saw the velvet chairs, the silver and crystal on the
table, and the exquisite paintings against the oak-paneled walls, she
started, and for a moment seemed to recognize the fact that she was
out of place. Then she looked up at Vivette's beautiful figure, and,
set her down for "one of the Raven family," notwithstanding that the
girl wore only a plain, though well-made, dress of dark color and
cheap material, a neat white collar, and a bit of scarlet ribbon round
her throat."I don't know if you are his sister," said the young woman."Whose sister?" Vivette asked, with a smile."Lord Raven's.""Oh, no, I am no relation whatever to him, but you may tell me what
you have to tell. I will help you if I can."Vivette Carruthers, who was impulsive, impassioned, strong for good
or evil, as chance circumstances directed, felt an odd sensation,
something like a bitter triumph, when the possibility presented itself
to her mind that the common-looking young woman was Lord Raven's
wife. True, if this were so, her own hopes of becoming a countess were
dashed to the ground. If Lord Raven were married, she had lost a
chance in life. But then there was revenge on that haughty countess,
whom she so detested. What delight it would give her to see the pale,
proud face of Lady Riverswood, when this vulgar person announced
herself to her as her daughter-in-law! Oh! if it is so, how she will
be punished. How thankful she would be to exchange such a
daughter-in-law as that for a girl of refinement and education like I
am!"I will help you if I can," repeated Vivette."If you are no relation, perhaps you are no friend," pursued the
woman, "and so I may tell you that Lord Raven is the biggest scoundrel
in England. I would tell him so if he were here.""He is in the house, I believe," said Vivette."I know that!" the woman cried quickly, "and I am quite determined
to see him before I leave the house!""Yes; but you must do more than see him, you must speak to
him.""I mean to shame him to his face. Here am I, miss, his lawful
wife. This poor thing is his lawful child. Only last night I had half
a mind to pitch the poor thing into
the river when I stood on the bridge at Worcester, I felt so mad with
grief."The young woman began to cry."Look at my feet," she said, lifting one from the rich carpet, and
showing it to Vivette. "Did you ever see such boots, miss, for a
Christian wife and mother, the lawful wife of a real nobleman like
him?"The sole was nearly off the wretched, dirt-discolored shoe in
question. The woman's attire, indeed, was of the coarsest and
commonest. A ragged, dirty cotton dress, a little red knitted shawl
pinned across her breast, and an old, battered, dusty black straw hat,
trimmed with rusty velvet and a broken feather, made up her
attire. The woman appeared about twenty-five years old. She had fine,
though rather large, features. Her fair skin was tanned red by
exposure to the weather. Her hair, of a bright, natural bronze, and
very abundant, was gathered into an untidy knot at the back of her
head. This young woman was tall, but squarely built, and rather
awkward.CHAPTER
VIII.A STRANGE STORY."She could never be manufactured into a lady," said Vivette to
herself, "not if they tried for ten years.""Yes, my boots is dreadful, miss," said the woman, beginning to
sob. "And yet I am Lady Raven, and this little one is the Honorable
Miss Raven."The Honorable Miss Raven, aged eight months, began to whimper, and
then to scream. The mother, who was not refined, and who, if she loved
her child, was impatient and cross, shook it rather roughly, so that
it was frightened, and subsided into silence."Lady Raven," said Vivette, in whom a spirit of mischief and
mockery suddenly leaped, "Lady Raven, allow me, in the absence of the
countess, to do the honors of the house. Pray don't shake little Miss
Raven. Compose yourself. Take a seat, and allow me to help you to some
of this pigeon pie. You have walked a long distance, and are in all
probability hungry.""I am famished," said the self-styled Lady Raven, "and I am so
thirsty!""I don't know if you ever tasted Sauterne," said Vivette,
half-filling a tumbler, and handing it to the young woman, "but I
think you will say it reminds you of cider, and is very
refreshing."The woman drank thirstily, and then ate voraciously. Vivette helped
her again and yet again. The baby she had placed on the floor. There
the little one lay, with its round eyes fixed on the ceiling. Every
now and then it whimpered, but the
mother shouted at it, and it ceased to cry."Poor little wretch!" said Vivette to herself. "I have no aversion
to babies, and if it were not so dreadfully dirty I would nurse it. If
only he would come in!" continued Vivette to herself. "That man to
whom I fancied that I had given my heart, how I hate him now! Either
he has married this woman, or he has deceived her. There is an air of
truth about her. She is vulgar, common, and hard, and, worse still, an
unkind mother. Still, her eyes look so soft and beautiful that I
almost fancy that is the result of her own misery and the cruelty of
the man to whom she is married. But with all this she is no
impostor. There is not one cunning line on her young, unhappy,
unwashed face."The self-styled Lady Raven now picked up her child, and then
Vivette said:"Would you mind giving me a sketch of your past life? Where did you
meet Lord Raven?""Oh, my uncle kept the Jolly Sailors Inn, at the little town of
Hazelton, on the borders of Hants, and I was his barmaid. I did a lot
of work besides, for he had many children. I was a kind of general
servant. I don't want to pretend I am better born than I am,"
continued the poor thing, weeping. "I was reckoned a pretty girl, and
could have married Mr. Tanner, a farmer's son, well off, but he was
ugly, and somehow I did so hate him. Then Lord Raven came and lodged
at the jolly Sailors, and he asked me to be his wife.""Your powers of fascination must, indeed, have been great," said
Vivette, with a touch of sarcasm in her tone."I don't understand your words, miss," the young woman answered, with a sigh. "I never was very
clever, but I gave my whole heart to that man. Ah! miss, what a gift
that is! and how ready we weak women are to give it!"Vivette smiled faintly.Lady Raven--was she Lady Raven?--was not looking at her, and did
not notice the vivid flushing of the brown cheek, the flashing of the
girl's great bright eyes, the meeting of her dark brows in a puzzled
frown, that was almost like a scowl. The "claimant," in her shabby
cotton dress, sat still nursing her sleeping child, and looking down
at that lovely pattern traced on the rich carpet of dark-blue. She
might have been reading the story there of her past life, with its
bitter disappointments, its brief, fierce joys, and stinging
sorrows."I loved him," the girl went on. "He said he was an artist studying
the beautiful country round about our little town, and he used to go
out with all his painting-things, his easel, and paint-boxes, and
brushes, into the woods and fields. I went and met him often, and
stole away from my work, and got scolded for it, because, miss, our
love was to be a secret. I was not to tell anybody a single word about
it, Charles said. His name is Charles, and I always called him
Charlie."Vivette could scarcely restrain a little exclamation of surprise,
in which there was ridicule, mingled with a sharp, stinging, jealous
pang."Charlie! This country bumpkin of a girl had linked her arm in his,
that elegant, distinguished-looking young nobleman's, and called him
Charlie!"Oh! if only the countess could hear you!" said Vivette to
herself. "If only something would happen to bring her back from the
picnic, and if she would but come in
at that door, I might have the supreme bliss of introducing this
person to her as her daughter-in-law!""I think," the claimant continued, "that Charlie mistook my
disposition and bringing up at first. He fancied I was like one of
these here girls one reads of in story-books. Girls as haven't no sort
of right so much as to speak to respectable married women. Girls as
whimpers and says they relied on the truth, on the honor of those that
led them wrong. Well, miss, he discovered that I was not at all like
those sort of idiots. I loved him, and I would have given my life to
serve him, and so he asked me, quite honorably, to become his
wife. Quite honorably, as I then thought, but now I have found he was
playing a cruel, false game the whole time, for he did not even own to
me that he was a nobleman, though I suspected it the whole time.""Oh," interrupted Vivette, "he married you, then, under a false
name?""Yes, that was just exactly what he did," the claimant
answered. "He told me his name was Charles Robson, and that he was an
artist, who was very poor, but that some day he should be at the top
of the tree, and ever so rich. He said he could not afford to keep a
wife, except just for a few weeks on the first going off. He asked me
to keep the marriage quite secret, and live with him a little while at
his country lodgings, then to return to my uncle's inn, as if nothing
had happened, and still to keep my maiden name of Margaret
Fisher.""Good gracious! what a name for a future countess!" said Vivette
Carruthers to herself."Well, I acted deceitfully toward my uncle. He is a man as hard as
a stone, and he has never forgiven me! I got Charlie to write a letter
in a feigned hand, as if it had come
from a schoolfellow of mine, Mary Roberts, who was at the village
school with me, and had always been my friend. Mary's married, and her
husband is a baker at Southampton, in a good way of business. Charlie
wrote as if the letter came from her, inviting me to go and spend
three weeks with her, and the letter was posted at Southampton. My
uncle gave his consent, and paid my quarter's salary, three pounds
fifteen shillings, and I packed my box and really started for
Southampton. There I met Charlie, and he took me to a registrar's
office, and we signed our names, and were made man and wife.""Signed your names!" echoed Vivette. "What name did he sign?""Charles Robson, painter, aged twenty-one. That's just one year
ago. He signed that his father had been a bookseller at
Wolverhampton. All he signed was false, as I found out afterward, but
I lived three weeks with him in the New Forest, and that was the
happiest time of my whole life. Only three short weeks!""And all that time you were under the impression that your husband
was a painter, an artist, the son of a bookseller?" asked Vivette."Yes, I believed it, miss, but yet I always said and thought that
be was like a nobleman in disguise. He seemed to be devoted to me
during those three weeks, and then he said the time had come when we
must leave our pretty lodgings in the New Forest and return to London,
where he said he was studying art in the art-galleries. I had never
heard of them before. He told me to return to the Jolly Sailors Inn,
and resume my duties as my uncle's servant and barmaid. Then he showed
his meanness and unkindness, for he would only give me one sovereign, and that he seemed to grudge me. He
said that I should not want for anything there!""Excuse me!" Vivette cried out impatiently, "but I am afraid that
you are imposing on my credulity in telling me this tale. No gentleman
would act as you represent this husband of yours to have acted, much
less a nobleman like Lord Raven! Your tale is not only improbable, but
impossible!""Oh! miss, miss, it is true, quite true!" cried the woman, with
tears in her eyes. She searched dawn deep in the pocket of her cotton
dress, and brought out a blue cotton handkerchief, spotted with white,
and tied at the four corners. These she unfastened, and then she
handed Miss Carruthers a greasy, folded paper."Those are my marriage lines, miss," she said. "Read them for
yourself."Vivette unfolded the paper, and glanced over it."This proves that you, Margaret Fisher, married Charles Robson in
the way you state," she said, handing the marriage-certificate back to
the claimant. "But it does not prove that Lord Raven gave you only one
sovereign with which to face the world after making you his wife.""That's just what seems so very strange, his meanness!" cried
Margaret simply. "But it'd true, indeed, it's true."Well, miss, I was meek and patient, and went back to the Jolly
Sailors, just as he had told me. I ought to have suspected him, for I
had to send all my letters to him addressed in initials to be left at
a London post-office till called for. I wrote and wrote, and he
answered me lovingly at first. Soon his letters grew cold and far
between, then they ceased, and I grew wild, for as time went on I discovered that my marriage could not
any longer be hidden. I wrote and wrote. At last, driven quite mad, I
went to my aunt first, and told her all my story, and showed her my
marriage lines."All she did was just to storm and call me a fool, then she went to
my uncle, who stormed more than she had, and called me worse names. He
went to Southampton, and even to our former lodgings in the New
Forest, and made inquiries, but Mr. Charles Robson had never been
heard of there before or since, nor had he left the least clue by
means of which he could be traced. He had stated in the certificate
that his father was a bookseller at Wolverhampton. We searched there,
and found that there was not a bookseller of that name in the whole of
the town. I had married somebody, but whom?"The only chance I had of ever finding my husband again was the
faint one that I might meet him accidentally, but then, if I had
nobody with me able to swear to him, my word would be no better than
his if he chose to deny me. My uncle said that I had disgraced our
honest name, and he turned me out of doors. He is a hard man. You will
scarcely believe me, miss, when I tell you that I was so utterly
penniless and friendless that I had no shelter open but the parish
workhouse, and there my child was born. I was ill after that with a
kind of brain fever, but having nowhere else to go, I remained on in
the workhouse with my little girl, and helped at the wash-tub.""And some day," cried Vivette, with a strange light flashing in her
eyes, "you hope to be Countess of Riverswood! But go on, tell me how
you found out that the wretch who married you was Lord Raven?""It was just a fortnight ago I had a letter from Mrs. Buff, where we lodged at Lydnhurst, in the New
Forest. I had always given my address in the workhouse to her, so that
if she ever heard any news of my husband she might let me know. She
said that a letter had come there to her house directed to 'Charles
Robson, Esquire,' the week before, and she had kept it, thinking he
might call for it, in which case a detective would follow him. But he
had not called, and so she sent the letter on to me. I tore it open,
and then I knew all. I found out that I was Lady Raven--that the man
who had called himself Robson, a poor artist, was in reality one of
the first young noblemen in England, in disguise."I did not know at first where the family seat was, nor where the
young noble was, but I found out all that from one of the workhouse
nurses, an elderly woman, who had been very kind to me, and to whom I
showed the letter. Mrs. Butler said she knew a deal about the Raven
family, and she had heard that the young Lord Charles had been very
wild. I said I would go and find him, and stand face to face with him,
if I had to follow him barefoot to the other end of the world."Nurse found out for me, through somebody who knew a sergeant in
the regiment to which Lord Raven belongs--his regiment was mentioned
in the letter--that he was now on a visit at his father's grand place
in the County of Worcester, Cotswold. Nurse Butler lent me fifteen
shillings, and wished me God-speed. I said not a word to another soul,
but put what few things I had of my own into a bag, and left my
workhouse dress behind."I told them I had heard of my husband, and was going after him,
but I did not tell them he was a lord. Then I set off on foot, and
walked to Farnham, in Sur-rey, a
distance of seven miles. I got on to Basinstoke by train, and walked
three days, carrying my child, from there to Oxford. I got the train
at Oxford and came on to Worcester, where I slept last night on a heap
of straw in a barn, and early this morning I started to walk here, and
here I am.""And," said Vivette, starting to her feet, "here comes your
husband, Lord Raven, across the lawn. He is walking straight toward
this room. Keep your seat, and don't agitate yourself in the least,
Lady Raven, only allow me to speak for you to Lord Raven, and to tell
him what I think of him!"Lord Raven advanced, looking grave, but not agitated. Vivette
sprang up, and opened the window for him.CHAPTER
IX.AN INVITATION.Lord Raven removed his hat when he entered the room, and smiled
pleasantly, as he glanced from one young person to the other, with a
look of wonder in his dark eyes that mystified and astonished Miss
Carruthers."Whom have we here?" he asked of Vivette. "Is this some friend of
yours?" and his brows met in a puzzled frown.Margaret Fisher was nursing her baby with energy, rocking it to and
fro in her arms very quickly. She seemed, so Vivette thought, afraid
to look the husband whom she claimed in the face."A friend of mine? Yes," said Vivette, with flashing eyes, "a
friend, so far, that her misfortunes interest me. If she will listen
to my advice, she will accept of no compromise whatever. She will make
you own that she is your wife, Lady Raven!"Vivette was startled by the simultaneous cry that escaped the lips
both of Lord Raven and of Margaret Fisher."My wife! What do you mean, Miss Carruthers? I like a joke, but
this is too much; excuse me, but such mockeries are ill-bred."Lord Raven was pale with anger.Vivette glanced at Margaret Fisher. That young person had started
to her feet in wild excitement, and her face was, red to the very
roots of her hair."It's a falsehood!" she exclaimed; "a falsehood. Now I see it all! This gentleman is not the one I
married! He never came to the jolly Sailors! I never saw him in my
life before, except about an hour ago, on the lawn, when he asked me
what I wanted, and I said to speak to my husband. I did not mention
Lord Raven's name to him, I don't know why. He just told me to wait on
the lawn until he had spoken to the housekeeper. Little did I think,
miss, he was Lord Raven. Oh! what a dreadful puzzle it all is, to be
sure!""What on earth does she mean?" asked Lord Raven, locking with a
haughty face at Vivette. "Is this woman mad?""Nothing like a full and free explanation to set it all right, Lord
Raven," cried Vivette, and in a few words she told the story which
Margaret Fisher had told her."But, excuse me," said Lord Raven, when Vivette's tale was over, "I
think you unjust and very precipitate, Miss Carruthers. Did this woman
assume that I had acted this villain's part, only because a letter was
sent directed to this Charles Robson, whom she married? She opens it
and finds that he is Lord Charles Raven, of Cotswold, in the County of
Worcester. Preposterous! But, still," turning toward poor Margaret
Fisher, who was drying her streaming eyes with the corner of her
apron, "but still you must have some grounds, something to go upon, I
suppose. What did the letter contain, and who wrote it?"Thereupon Margaret dived down into the deep pocket of her dress,
and brought up a large envelope, of a pinkish hue, which she handed to
the irate young man.Lord Raven took the letter as if he were afraid of possible
dirt. Indeed, it was a very soiled and uninviting-looking
document. The address was scrawled over it in a heavy male hand. Lord Raven took out the letter
and made a wry face when he discovered that it contained four pages,
closely covered with close small-hand writing."Oh! I can't read all this!" he said; "it is a caution to an
office-clerk.""Allow me, if you have no objection," said Vivette, coining
forward. "I will read this letter."He handed it to her with a little graceful, sarcastic motion of his
handsome head. Vivette ran through the letter, for she was quick at
deciphering strange handwriting."Ah! I see, Margaret Fisher does not know the world, or she would
never have supposed that the person here addressed was Lord Raven."Your name is certainly mentioned, my lord, but only as follows,"
said Vivette, as she read aloud the following passage from this most
wonderful letter:"'Well, my Lord Raven, so you will come into your inheritance in
time, you feel certain of that. But you must be sure, not only that
you have really sown your wild oats, but that you have reaped the bad
harvest, before you carry your clever scheme into execution. Don't
allow any of the ugly old stories to crop up just at the last, or they
may destroy your chance forever. I hope you have not really married
the girl to whom you have made love in the name of Charles Robson. You
may think she will never find you again, but some day, when you least
expect it, she will meet you in the street. If ever this happens, you
must be prepared to give her the lie through thick and thin. Unless
she has other witnesses to swear to you, your denial would seem more
like reason than her assertions. You have certainly acted with the impetuosity of a young madman,
but then you are decidedly a genius, and we always associate the
greatest eccentricities with genius. To me it seems that you have but
to go in and win, and I hope you will improve the advantages the fates
have sent you without further loss of time.'"Then follows a great deal about betting and horses," continued
Vivette; "but then this man again addresses this person as Lord
Raven. He says: 'Remember that though you are Lord Raven, of Cotswold,
you are still bound by important ties to your humbler friend, who
knows more of your secrets than you would like made public. Believe
me, Lord Charles, you can't stir without being watched. I know what a
high game we are playing for, and I fear that you are volatile, and,
therefore, I watch you. Send me ten pounds by next Monday. Send to the
old address at Compton Street, Regent Square.'"This epistle was neither signed nor dated."And so, on the strength of that letter, you condemned me as a
scoundrel?" said Lord Raven, fixing his dreamy eyes on Miss
Carruthers.Vivette flushed, then turned pale."Forgive me," she said. "That young woman seemed so sure of what
she said, that I--" she paused, for she hardly knew what to add."Here, my good woman," said the young lord, and as he spoke he put
a purse into Margaret's hands. "In that purse are several pounds, I
don't know anything whatever about you or your motives, but you may
have been cruelly imposed upon, or otherwise. All I beg is that you
will go away as son as possible, and never come here as long as you
live. I have my share of annoyances in
this life, and I don't wish to complain unnecessarily, but, really,
this is a little too much. Look at me once more before you go," he
added, with a half-bitter smile which showed his white teeth. "Make
sure that I am not--bah!--"He stopped, and turned away, laughing somewhat scornfully."No, my lord, you are not Charles Robson, and I thank you from my
heart for this money. Why, it's ten pounds!" said Margaret, who had
counted the coins."Very well; then you may be off as soon as you like," said Lord
Raven.The woman turned round with a half-stifled sob as she was leaving
the room through the French window."Oh! if I only could find him," she said."I am sure I can't help you," said Lord Raven.The poor woman then withdrew."And so, Miss Carruthers, you thought that I would marry a coarse,
common girl of that sort? I thank you, I am sure!""How was I to know, my lord? I know nothing of you.""True," he said gloomily. "I came back because the people at the
picnic were all so insufferably dull," continued Lord Raven; "and I
expected to find you, radiant and pleasant. I thought we were to have
been friends, you and I. Friends, but not lovers. I made you
understand that, did I not?""Oh! my lord, how insolent you are!" cried Vivette. "How dare you
talk to me like that!"And Vivette stamped her foot in a rage."That's right!" said Lord Raven, sitting down. "I admire your
spirit. You are only a governess, and I am a nobleman, but you are not meek and gentle. You tell
me what a brute you think me to my face! I wish I could fall in love
with you, but I can't!""I don't want to know what you wish, or what you can't do," said
Vivette. "You may be a nobleman, but you are not a gentleman!""That is a neat compliment, which I appreciate," said the young
lord, with a smile. "I suppose I have succeeded in my time in making
myself generally odious to women. I once loved a woman who despised my
poverty, for you must know my kind parents can make me poor at their
own sweet will. Since then I have loved nobody. When I saw you I took
an interest in you. I wish you were a lad instead of a girl, for then
we might have been friends. As it is, I know you will fancy I am
secretly in love with you, and you, without caring a snap for me, will
be scheming to become Lady Raven. I shall have to tell you every day
of our lives that that is impossible!""I think you are most insulting!" cried Vivette."So I am, but then I have no intention of being so. I am no more to
blame than the great lumbering truck, loaded with luggage, is to blame
when some awkward porter at the railway-station wheels it over your
toes. The force of circumstances compels me to inconvenience you by
hurting your feelings, but I am innocent all the while!""Not at all!" cried Vivette. "You rejoice, Lord Raven, in making me
feel uncomfortable! It is a joke for you, but I hate you for it.""I know you do," he said coolly; "and it is natural that you
should. But, as I said just now, Miss Carruthers, I am accustomed to being hated by women. I am
getting used to it.""It is a pity he is so distractedly good-looking!" was Vivette's
inward comment. "There is power and thought in those gray eyes, and
the handsome mouth is firm and stern, though the smile is sweet. He is
strong and stalwart, too. But, then, I am not weak and shrinking, and
I have to fight with this world!"There was something half-cruel in the way in which he washed his
hands of that woman, and sent her away with the generous gift of his
ten pounds. He is like a prince in a fairy-tale! I wish that I could
forget that he possessed any other attractions besides the fact of
being Lord Raven, heir to an earldom and the estate of Cotswold!"And I thought I could scheme to make myself his countess, so
coldly, so adroitly, without being one atom fascinated by him as a
man. Now, if he became a beggar, and wore rags, how gladly would I
walk by his side!"Rapidly these thoughts rushed through the quick brain of
Vivette. Her warm, undisciplined heart beat fast, and the color came
and went in her cheeks."You hate me most cordially," continued Lord Raven, "and I am sorry
for it, because I like you immensely, and I mean to try and make you
like me as a friend, not because I am Lord Raven. I hope you enjoyed
the luncheon I ordered for you.""Yes, my lord, and I thank you for it, very much. I am likewise
obliged to her ladyship the countess for giving orders that I was to
see the house.""And what do you think of the house?""It is superfluous to ask," Vivette answered. "Of course, Cotswold
is one of the great English historical houses. It is full of treasures
of art. It is a glorious house, a place to be proud of!""Yes, I suppose it is," said Lord Raven, "and I do my best to be as
proud of it as I can, but I find it hard work. My good mother does all
the dignity.
"'The boast of heraldry, the pomp of
power,And all that beauty, all that wealth ere gave,Await alike the inevitable hour,The path of glory leads but to the grave.'""Yes!" said Vivette, "that is a quotation from one of the English
poets of the last century. I can tell from the ring of it, but I
forget the poet and the poem.""Never mind," said Lord Raven. "A little ignorance in a governess,
a little acknowledged ignorance, is refreshing. I must tell you how I
schemed to get back to you instead of going on with those dull men and
stupid women to the picnic. I suddenly recollected that I had had a
telegram this morning from the colonel of our regiment, which I had
forgotten to answer, so I had to get out at a little station and
return to Malvern, and send the telegram off. Then I felt inclined to
return home and have an hour of quiet; besides, the colonel might
telegraph again.""Oh, and was the story genuine?" asked Vivette."Quite so," the young man answered gravely. "I am, up to the
present moment, Miss Carruthers, incapable of a deliberate lie. Still,
it would not have mattered much if I had sent no answer to the
colonel's telegram. It was only sent to tell me that a horse which he
and I had backed had won a race, so I sent back thanks and congratulations. Don't think me a
professed gambler. I have only won fifty pounds.""Which you will spend in the most foolish manner you can devise?"
asked Vivette, with a saucy smile."Well, yes, I suppose I shall. I habitually think wisely and act
foolishly," said Lord Raven. "But, do you know, Miss Carruthers, that
I am famished? I have eaten nothing since seven o'clock this
morning."Vivette started up with sparkling eyes."Why did you not lunch with me?" she said impetuously."Because, my dear young lady, this house is full of gossiping
women," replied Lord Raven. "They would guess the truth, you see, that
I only came back to see you. They would make out that I was going in
for another romantic attachment, and they would convince my
conservative mother that such was the case. Now, we both of us know
how wide of the truth this notion is, do we not? We could not convince
the household of Cotswold of the fact that our friendship is most
completely and truly platonic. So my dear mother would look out for
another governess, and nothing would annoy me more than that. I intend
to feed now as hastily as some caged lion shut in by cruel men."Let me see what we have left? A cold chicken pie, uncut, a couple
of clean silver plates, my own especial drinking-cup, all unused, and
plenty of knives, forks, and table-napkins. I see that Barnes has
provided amply for my wants. Also, here is a bottle of Burgundy,
uncorked. I will draw the cork and wait on myself. Don't watch me
while I eat. I feel so ravenous. Put on your hat and saunter slowly
toward your home. I will follow you in less than ten minutes. Take the
path across the park by the beeches,
and I will then overtake you by the oak-tree near the Wishing
Well.""Thanks, but I don't feel inclined for a quiet saunter. It is late
October, and the evenings begin to be cold and dark, and mists rise
from the river. I must hurry home.""You are offended at my plain speaking," said Lord Raven, who had
already begun to eat his chicken pie. "But if you are cold, hasten
toward home, and I will still overtake you. I will come into Rosalind
Cottage, and have a cup of tea with you, if you will allow me. I
suppose your landlady is a gossip, like all landladies?""I am quite sure she is very fond of me," answered Vivette. "She is
a dear old soul, and would not say a word against me for the
world. Yes, Lord Raven, I should like you to come and take tea with
me, if even they make a fuss, it can't much matter. I will go and put
on my hat and scarf. They are in the anteroom, and will hurry home and
prepare tea for you."She walked to the door; then, looking over her shoulder, she said,
with a smile:"And do you like muffins?""Immensely," laughed Lord Raven, and so these young persons
parted.CHAPTER
X.AN ACCIDENT."If I had not had my love-dream and found it a hoax and a sham, I
should love that girl. But now I am so very wide-awake that I feel
sure that I shall never dream again. This Carruthers girl is full of
dash, spirit, and energy, but she is totally wanting in refinement. I
can never love again. Lola has utterly cured me as long as I live. I
must marry, though, and I am quite determined that my wife shall be a
lady, otherwise I should walk off one fine morning and leave her."Lord Charles Raven believed that he had become a hardened, reckless
man of the world. He despised the previous ideal of his own character
most thoroughly, still he did not intend by any means to lead a bad or
vicious life.He meant, in fact, to marry Elaine Carruthers, the rich banker's
heiress, if he found her ladylike and gentle enough, since her fortune
was required to pay off the mortgages on Cotswold. Since her parents
and his thought the match an excellent thing, "all the trouble and
bother of courting a girl one does not care for, but must marry, will
be simplified." said the heir to himself, with a cynical smile.Charles Raven fully meant to be a kind husband to the young lady,
that is, as husbands go. He would give her her own way, and have some
money settled on herself, with which she might carry out her own plans
and pleasures.He had not the least intention of being dissipated. He hated and
loathed the coarser kinds of dissipation, but he had made up his mind
to lead a life pleasant to himself, and harmless toward others, loving
none, trusting none. He had had at one time a great enthusiasm for
politics, but he had often said to himself lately that with his faith
in the love of women had perished his faith in the nobler future of
mankind. All the world was false for him. In short, he believed
himself to be the bitterest of bitter cynics, and yet he was only
twenty-three years old!He had heard news that morning from the countess which had
astonished him. Mr. Gervase Carruthers, with his wife and daughter,
had arrived in London, and the very next day they were all three
coming on a visit to Cotswold, that the introduction might take place
which was to settle the future of the two young people."I wonder if this girl Vivette resembles her cousin Elaine?" he
mused. "It would be pleasant if she had Vivette's vivacity, but with
more refinement. I hope she has, yet I don't care. A quiet, easily
pleased woman is the kind of being I require for a wife. Fancy, now,
if this girl were my wife, what a fiercely jealous baggage, or what a
flirt she would be. No, my good young lady, let me keep always at a
most respectful distance from the market matrimonial if you are in the
neighborhood!"Yet, while Lord Raven, aged twenty-three years and odd months, was
making these worldly-wise reflections he was buttoning his coat across
his chest, for the evening was chilly, pulling down his cap over his
eyes, and hastening along in the direction of Rosalind Cottage. Soon
he had left the park by a short cut, and was walking in the narrow shady lane bordered by tall elms, which
led to the humble abode of this girl. Then the moon came and looked at
him through a rift in a white fleecy cloud that was spread over the
eastern heaven like a glorious veil of fine white lace. He looked up
at it, and said to himself:"I suppose that girl Vivette would go into raptures over that
cloud! She is just the girl to do so. Pity her father was a
scamp. This rich Carruthers, her uncle, must provide for her
handsomely. What a fool I am to think of the girl at all. It is only
because she is here. If she were gone I should forget her existence in
a week, but somehow I can't help pitying her. They say pity is akin to
love, but that is, of course, absurd. The world is full of old, false
saws of that sort."Thus far had the young lord proceeded in his cynical cogitations,
when he perceived a man sitting on the top of a five-barred gate which
led into a meadow. The man wore a white shirt, and the moonlight shone
upon that and upon a head of villainous aspect. There was in the whole
bearing of the man the something which in England one associates with
the professional tramp.Lord Raven was courageous. He recollected that he had about twenty
pounds in gold in his pockets, besides a precious gold-enameled
snuff-box, whose proper place was in the drawer of a certain cabinet,
which was always kept locked. Raven had promised his father to take it
to Worcester, to have the hinge mended, but he had not been to
Worcester since, and had gone about for weeks, carrying the precious
heirloom in his pocket.Twenty-one pounds in gold, and a snuff-box in eighteen-carat gold,
with an authenticated portrait on the lid of Madam Du Barry, valued by old Spooner, the
antiquarian, at fifty guineas!"My good man, if you have any idea of springing down from your
perch, I am ready for you!" thought Lord Raven, as he clenched his
fists, for the man did leap down, and almost at the same moment the
young nobleman fell forward on his face, struck by a coward's blow
from behind."Now I think the room looks pretty. How long he is coming, and
those muffins will be dry and hard! How provoking! I am sure, quite
sure, he meant to come! He wanted to see my poor little place, and I
wanted to show him that it could be as bright and as pleasant as
Cotswold. I never knew that I was really alive until I met Charles
Raven. Now I see how selfish and mean my life has been! I am now, what
am I now? a living lie! I have but lived the life I was born to! What
is Charles Raven, that he is to make me despise myself? What is he in
reality better than I am, only that he is a nobleman, born to higher
things? If I had been the daughter of an earl, all England would be
prating of my goodness. Indeed, I believe my instincts are good, but I
wish he would come!"It was an hour past the tea-time of Miss Carruthers. Her kind
landlady, Mrs. Bonner, had been enchanted at the idea of Miss
Carruthers entertaining Lord Raven at tea."What a thing, my dear young lady," she had said. "He will be sure
to marry you if only you play your cards well. I know I have heard my
grandmother talk of the Earl of Cheselden, who married a young servant
at a roadside inn in the North."He was thrown from his horse, and broke his leg, and he was
obliged to be nursed there. She was pretty, and had black eyes like
yours, and he fell in love with her. He was twenty-six, and she was
sixteen, and her father was a cowman, but the earl made her his
countess. He sent her to school first for a year, he meant to have
sent her for two, but he loved her so he could not wait. So they were
married, and lived happy ever after.""I wonder if they did?" Vivette said to herself, but she spoke
aloud, and looked at Mrs. Bonner. "I am afraid that unless his love
was very strong the earl must have been ashamed often of his bride,
and of his father-in-law, the cowman. It must be terrible for a great
noble to be son-in-law to a cowman."Vivette laughed, a laugh that sounded harsh and a little
unnatural. For some reason or other this tale of the servant-girl had
no cheering effect on Vivette. She glanced around at the little room,
"neat as ninepence," as Mrs. Bonner styled it. There were the white
cups and saucers on the little tray; and the bunch of late-flowering
roses in the little glass vase in the center of the table. On the hob
by the brightly glowing fire was the plate of hot buttered
muffins. The small shaded lamp threw a soft light on Vivette's fresh
young face and beautiful figure, clothed in a dark mourning-dress,
with the white rose at her breast."I am not beautiful," she said, as she glanced at her vivacious
dark face in the little mirror over the tiny chimney-piece, and then
Mrs. Bonner left the room."I wonder why he does not come," Vivette said, and she went into
the passage and through the hall door into the little garden, on which
the moon was shining.CHAPTER
XI.VIVETTE BECOMES NURSE.Vivette walked down the gravel path by the side of the grass-plot,
and looked over the gate into the white moonlit road. The trees in the
plantation on the opposite side of the way all whispered together
suddenly, as if they were gossiping over some dark secret. The October
wind came sharply and smote the slender form of Vivette, so that she
shivered, and wished that she had a little shawl to throw over her
head and shoulders.Not a sign of Lord Raven's stalwart form in all the moonlit road,
but then, to be sure, there was a bend beyond the trees, and perhaps
he would turn the corner presently. So impressed was Vivette with this
idea that she resolved to run forward and meet him. As she often acted
from impulse, she put the design at once into execution, passed
through the gate, and along the road. Lord Raven was not there. The
road was deserted. It ran along straight and white between the hedges
and the tall trees, and there was not the shadow of a man, woman, or
child between the earth and the moon.Such a very small proportion of the earth as came under the
supervision of the dark eyes of Vivette Carruthers may seem an
unimportant item in the economy of the universe, but to Miss
Carruthers it certainly was at that moment the most interesting spot
in Christendom. At any time the hero of her dreams might walk along
between the hedges iii the moonlight, swinging his cane."I am afraid that lie has altered his mind, and that he will not
come at all," the girl said to herself. Instead of tossing her head
and feeling what she herself, in some of her moods, called vicious,
Vivette sighed deeply, and her heart swelled with a sentiment of
vague, odd self-pity."What a lonely life, and what a lonely girl I am!" she said. "And
as long as I can recollect it has always been so."Suddenly, she heard the sound of wheels, swift and strong, with the
quick click of a horse's feet approaching. She saw nothing at first,
but presently the moonlit lane was darkened by a moving spot. On it
came, and soon it was thrown up into full relief against the silvery
light. Yes, a trap, and horse, and driver."It is the doctor's trap," said Vivette to herself. "If Doctor
Barker is a squeamish individual, he will find fault with the young
person at the cottage wandering out in the lane by moonlight with
nothing whatever upon her head. Well, there is no reason why I should
not shock him. I like to shock local authorities in villages like
this."So Vivette stood proudly and boldly at the side of the road, and
the moonlight shimmered on her dark hair and white ruffle.On came the doctor's carriage. He was not driving himself, but when
he saw Vivette Carruthers, he stood up, and called out:"Hello!" and the driver drew ran. "Hello!" said the doctor,
speaking in some excitement. "Tell the woman at Rosalind Cottage to
open her door, and put a sofa ready in her front room. Here is
somebody nearly killed, and
perhaps dying! A highway robbery! Do make haste! Run on and get the
door open!""So that when Lord Raven comes," said the girl to herself, "he will
find Doctor Barker, and a patient, and a crowd of chattering old
women! That is simply horrible! If I have to send him away to-night he
will not come again.""The inn is not far," said Vivette."Half a mile farther," said the doctor. "Make haste, for Heaven's
sake, young woman! It is Lord Raven who has been knocked down and
robbed, and almost murdered!"Vivette staggered for a moment, and her heart throbbed wildly, then
there flashed across her mind the memory of the story which her
landlady had told her of the young noble who was thrown from his horse
and hurt, and nursed at a humble roadside inn, where, he fell in love
with and married the servant-girl!"And I will nurse him, and he may love me, and marry me!" said
Vivette to herself.All this time she was running toward the cottage, and her heart was
thumping against her side. Behind her came the doctor's carriage.The gate and entrance-door of the cottage were wide open. She ran
in, calling loudly to Mrs. Bonner, and told her tale in a few
half-breathless words. Then the doctor's carriage stopped at the
door.Vivette rushed out, and spoke with an energetic calmness to the
doctor."There is not a man about the place. How are we to carry him
in?""We must lift him between us," replied Doctor Barker, getting hastily out of the trap. "Will
you hold the horse's head?""Yes," said Vivette.As she went to the horse's head and held it, she heard the doctor
and his man lifting out some heavy weight, which she knew was Lord
Raven.She would not look round. A sort of superstitious, nervous fear
took possession of her, and she fancied that if she saw him while they
were lifting him down that he would die. If she waited to see him
until he was safely laid on Mrs. Bonner's sofa in her little
sitting-room, he would recover.So she bore it all. The slow lifting out and dragging along of the
unconscious young man, the exclamations of the doctor's man, Samuel,
respecting the quantity of blood that covered his hands, and his
declaration that he believed the young lord was stone dead, to which,
however, the doctor answered, "Pooh-pooh!" Then the man came back to
the horse, and Vivette rushed into the little parlor.There stood the doctor and Mrs. Bonner, while stretched out on the
little horsehair sofa was Lord Raven. Mrs. Bonner had clasped her
hands, and was looking with terror-distended eyes at the ghastly face
of Lord Raven and at the blood which came from the wound on his
head."How ever can it have happened?" she was murmuring."The thing is to set to work, and do all we can for him," said the
doctor. "We will try and trace the villain afterward. I will send my
man on to my surgery for the bandages and the various things I shall
require," continued Doctor Barker. "The patient must not be moved. We must make him up a bed
in this room, and I shall not alarm the countess until we have made him
as comfortable as circumstances will admit. Somebody must sit up with
him.""I will," interrupted Vivette.CHAPTER
XII.THE STRANGE MAN.The doctor glanced round sharply at the dark girl, who had been so
silent and swift. She had held the horse's head, and had given no
trouble with "nerves" or any other feminine weakness."You will do admirably," he said.Vivette came and looked at Lord Raven's white, unconscious
face. She bit her lip to restrain the cry that rose to it, and she
said quietly "Will he recover?""I don't know," said the doctor. "I think so. There may be compound
fracture of the skull, but if the brain is unhurt, he will live. Let
us hope for the best. He is a strong, vigorous young man."How the next two or three hours passed Vivette could never
remember. There was much bandaging, bathing, and strapping of the
handsome head. Brandy was forced between the teeth, and fires were lit
to warm flannels. The girl acted with an unquestioning obedience to
the doctor's orders.At half-past ten she was seated in an armchair by the side of the
unconscious patient, who lay now on white sheets and a soft bed placed
under him by Mrs. Bonner and Vivette. Vivette watched Lord Raven
almost with the solicitude of a mother who watches by the bedside of a
sick child.The young men slept--actually slept. Sleep was better for him than
the stupor in which he had lain at first.Vivette had been told what she was to do if the patient awoke. She
was to give him the cooling draft prepared for him, and some brandy if
he had any symptoms of faintness. There he lay sleeping in her humble
little parlor, this gallant young nobleman. It was like a dream that
he was so close to her, and dependent upon her. Already her love for
him was stronger than herself. All the selfish creeds and prejudices
which she had learned from her cradle, and which, until now, she had
meant to make the rules of her life, were as nothing to the love that
now possessed her."Love took up the harp of life,And smote on all the chords with might;Smote the chord of self,Which shrank, and trembling hastened out of
sight!"She repeated these words to herself in a whisper."I cannot remember," she said; "I have forgotten some line which
jangles in my brain like the discordant wire of some musical
instrument. All the same, I know what I mean. I know that I would give
up everything and everybody for the sake of Lord Raven--but I am not
one of those heroines who would give up her lover to another woman
'for his good,' and wish them every blessing. I am not like that, but
I would die to save his life, and I would live in a garret with him if
I were his wife, and call it paradise!"Thinking these thoughts, Vivette sat far into the night. When she
felt sleep stealing over her she roused herself with a start, and
looked toward the sleeping face on the pillows. It was odd, but the
fear that he might die did not torment Vivette. She seemed to have an
inward conviction that he would recover, and live. Her desire was to win his love, and make herself dear
and precious to him. Then she thought of her cousin, the heiress, and
a storm of jealousy swept over her like a hurricane!"I suppose that she will come here to nurse him, since she is his
promised wife! If she does, I will say, 'Mademoiselle, fine ladies
like yourself know nothing whatever about nursing. You will kill the
patient with your wide sleeves and long skirts, which will sweep
everything off the table, and make a noise when they fall. Oh! no, you
cannot watch here. Besides, these are my rooms, and I will not let you
in!'"The night grew late. Nobody came up from Cotswold to inquire about
Lord Raven. By this time the countess knew that her son had been hurt,
and was lying at Rosalind Cottage. Doctor Barker told the countess not
to be alarmed, but he begged her not to send anybody to the house
until Lord Raven awoke."The least noise might prove fatal," he said, "if it awoke the
patient violently out of a peaceful sleep."The household of Cotswold did not extinguish their lights or lie
down to rest that night.Lord Raven dreamed that he was wandering at will in an exquisite
garden. Flowers bloomed, fountains played, trees waved in the summer
air, birds sang in their branches, and delicious fruits hung in balls
of amber, crimson, and purple on the boughs. All the time he was
tormented by a great thirst. He stretched out his hands toward the
refreshing fruits, but they all grew out of his reach. He was sensible
of a feeling of pain and weariness, but the beauty of his surroundings
soothed his senses and calmed his discontent.All at once a man came out of some woods on the right of him, and
he felt by instinct that the man was evil and cruel. He had somehow
lost his usual courage and daring, for, instead of standing on the
defensive, and defying the fellow, he felt inclined to get out of
sight, and hide. It seemed to him that the man was more than mortal,
gifted with some strange occult power. He carried in his hand a couple
of schoolroom globes, and he was apparently studying them as he walked
along under the heavenly blue of that dream-sky. The man was tall,
handsome, and foreign-looking, with sinister black eyes and meeting
black brows, which gave a stern look to his clever, cynical face.All at once there stood in his path a young girl, clothed in
white. She had beautiful dark eyes, and masses of black hair plaited
close to her superb head. The dark face was the vivacious one of his
mother's governess."I wish you would never come to see me!" said the girl to the man;
"I hate the sight of you!""That will not keep one away," the man answered. "I have a right to
be where you are. And here you are, well off, and comfortable. I shall
stay as your friend.""If you do," the voice of Vivette answered, "I will kill
myself!"The man laughed."No, you won't," he said, "you know better than that. You have a
brilliant career before you, and may fly at the highest game.""I am a wretch," answered Vivette, "a miserable, false wretch!
Don't talk of great careers to me. Yon think I am a coward, who fears
death. Very well. Some morning they will come to call me to breakfast,
and they will find me lying stark and cold. It is true!"All at once his dream of the brilliant verdure of the flowery
lawns, the foliage of the trees, the heavenly blue of the summer sky
took homelier shapes. The lawns were only Mrs. Bonner's round table,
covered with a green cloth with a red pattern. The emerald woods
dwindled into a pair of faded yellowish curtains, and the blue sky
became the whitewashed ceiling of Mrs. Bonner's humble parlor. But the
two human beings did not change. There they sat close to the
table. The girl was Vivette Carruthers, the man was the evil genius
with the handsome, cynical face, and he was speaking angrily to Miss
Carruthers."You will have the game entirely in your own hands," he said, "but
I see that you are becoming like all other women, weak and foolish. I
fancied you wise and keen, and hard, hard as I am, as the world has
made me. I find I have a fool to deal with after all.""Thank you," she answered, speaking with supreme composure."No, don't thank me," the man said. "I don't want any thanks. I
have not come here to flatter you, Vivette. I have come because I have
a right to be wherever you are. No earthly power can separate us two,
unless I wished it, but I don't. I mean to have our lives link
together as much as they ever have been. You shall not escape me. I
suppose you think that if this fine uncle adopts you, as he ought to
do, and will do--if he gives you a fortune, I suppose you think that I
am to be ignored, that I must hide out of your way. You will find that
I will not. I shall live near you, see you constantly, and share your
good fortune in every way. I see what it is. Since new arrangements
have been made, since you have got up in the world, you have forgotten
the old tie, but it is of forged
iron. Nothing can break it but death.""I know that," Vivette answered, "nor do I wish to ignore your
claims to my obedience when you only exact what is right, but what you
ask now is impossible.""Because you choose to make it so. With a little care and attention
the scheme might be carried out, and that without the slightest risk
to yourslf, a scheme which would make me rich for life!""For life!" she echoed contemptuously. "And how long would it be
before the whole was spent, squandered in reckless extravagance and
profusion? What has happened once would happen again. In the days that
you had money I starved in a poor apartment in the Rue Fillette, while
you drank and gambled. I heard of it, and said nothing. I only wished
that the day might come when a career might open for me, independent
of you, and now the time has come! I am earning my living and the
respect of those who employ me, and you come to upset all. You throw
your chain over my head and drag me back to you, even as a man throws
his chain round his dog and drags him toward him by his collar. I am
not a slave, nor a dog!""No, but I will make you obey me, nevertheless," the man
said. "Understand, Vivette, that I will never forego my
rights. I--"Lord Raven was listening with the keenest curiosity and interest to
this strange dialogue, which he thought sounded more like a
conversation on the stage than one in the real every-day life of a
country village. His eyes were fixed with an expression of something
akin to admiration, mingled with a half-contemptuous pity, on Miss
Carruthers."Good heavens! then she is secretly the wife of this man!" the
young nobleman said to himself, and he added: "What a very terrible
thing!"The man was shabbily dressed, and his mustache and beard were
ill-kept, but he had a finely curved mouth, an aquiline nose, and
flashing dark eyes. Those eyes met the gray ones of Lord Raven, and
read in them consciousness, penetration, and an intense expression. In
a moment he pointed to the young man, rose to his feet, and said
calmly:"Miss Carruthers, your patient is awake, and requires all your
attention. I hope the sound of our voices has not disturbed him."Charles Raven never forgot the white, set face of Vivette, as she
hastened out with the man. The young man was perfectly convinced in
his own mind that the man who asserted that his life was linked with
Vivette's was her husband."Her husband," said Raven to himself. "But how did she ever marry
him? He is older than she is, and he is world-hardened, slovenly, and
callous. The style of his beauty is not that which would ever
fascinate a young and ardent girl, and yet I am convinced that she is
his wife."Lord Raven lay back exhausted and faint after making these
reflections. Vivette came and handed to him the cooling drink which
the doctor had ordered. He drank it thirstily."Tell me what has happened!" he said presently. "Have I been thrown
from my horse on my head? My head is throbbing so. Why am I here? Is
this the parlor at Mrs. Bonner's little cottage?""Yes," said Vivette quietly. "You have been hurt, and carried in
here. Try to sleep, Lord Raven, if you can.""But who was the man that was in here just now?""Your mind is wandering, Lord Raven," Vivette answered. "I have
been reading. Here is my book," and she lifted one from the table. "I
have not spoken. Do try and sleep."Lord Raven's mind and brain were in a dim and hazy state. He found
it quite impossible to contradict Vivette when she said that she had
been quite alone. He knew that he had fancied at first that Miss
Carruthers and the man had been wandering in the verdant shades of a
leafy garden, but the foliage had turned into Mrs. Bonner's curtains,
the lawn had become the round table covered by the green
cloth. Perhaps it was just possible that the dark man with the
aquiline nose, who said his life was linked with Vivette's, was only
the creature of a dream!"Anyhow," said the young lord to himself, "if I recover, and if I
ever meet that fellow in the world, I shall know him again, not that
it matters much to me!"CHAPTER
XIII.SEPARATION.Lord Raven's head was not vitally injured, though it was seriously
hurt. He was very feverish and ill for some days, and Doctor Barker
would not allow him to be moved. The countess came as soon as she had
permission, to see her son, and she sent for two nurses from the
hospital at Worcester to attend upon him. She managed to remove
Vivette Carruthers from the dangerous post of nurse to the invalid
young nobleman in the most matter-of-fact way possible.Lady Riverswood was a woman of energy and measures. She never acted
without consideration, it is true, but then it never took her long to
consider. Her mind was made up in ten minutes. She came to Vivette on
the afternoon of the day which followed the attack on Lord
Raven. Vivette had not gone up to Cotswold to give her pupils their
lessons. She had passed the whole day between the kitchen, where beef
tea and other preparations were being concocted, and the little
sitting-room where Lord Raven lay, half-sleeping, half-waking, on the
temporary bed that had been made up for him.The countess had been talking to the doctor, who was in the room,
then she came to Vivette. Miss Carruthers was pouring some wine, that
had been sent from Cotswold, into a glass."You are very kind," said the countess, "and I am sure we are all
most grateful. I hear from Doctor Barker that you were good enough to
sit up all night with Lord Raven, but now
the nurses will be coming, and it would not be allowable for you to
remain in the house with him any longer, so I have arranged for you to
remain at Cotswold until he is able to return home. Miss Sparks has
had quite a charming little room prepared for you, and the lessons, of
course, will go on. We cannot allow the children to be idle. You will,
in fact, be resident, instead of visiting, governess."Lady Riverswood had been accustomed to be obeyed ever since she had
arrived at woman's estate. Her stately, imposing figure was arrayed in
black satin, and her iron-gray hair artistically arranged. Her keen
eyes and aquiline features expressed a sort of courteous hauteur that
was inimitable. Lady Riverswood never appeared in her carriage, or
beyond the park gates of Cotswold, save in the toilets of Hyde
Park. It was one of her stately rules. In her own house, in the
morning she always dressed simply, but she was invariably surrounded
by something of the pomp and circumstance of her rank when she
appeared in public, and Vivette Carruthers hated her for it all.Lady Riverswood was surprised at the flash in the girl's dark eyes,
surprised at the knitting together of her straight, dark brows."I prefer remaining in my own rooms," she said quickly, almost
uncourteously.Lady Riverswood answered coldly:"But that is impossible under the circumstances. Your reputation
would suffer. It would be necessary for you to leave the neighborhood,
and you would then be compelled to discontinue your lessons to my
daughter's children."The most insulting and mocking answers rose to Vivette's lips, but she was wise in time, and restrained
herself. In a flash she saw that to quarrel with the mother would be
to separate herself from Lord Raven."I have no doubt that your ladyship is right," the girl, said, with
a smile that showed her beautiful teeth. "I shall be most happy to
profit by your kindness. When, then, shall I come?""At once," the countess answered, "with me, in my carriage. I will
wait while you pack your trunk. If it is large there is room for it in
the luggage-place under the seat. This is my traveling-coach."Vivette bowed and smiled, as she went up-stairs and shut herself
into her room, locked the door, and gave way to a paroxysm of the most
violent anger. She stamped her feet and bit her lips."Terrible old woman, I hate her!" she said to herself. "She wishes
to separate me from him during these days of his recovery when
something tells me that I could and might have won his heart. But even
now I will win it! He has got over that fancy for the wretched
actress. I will yet be Lady Raven, and one day Countess of Riverswood!
When I am a countess I will never tread on the feelings of those
beneath me, but I will trample on all those who have oppressed me like
this!"And the angry girl threw on the ground a little note, written by
the countess to herself, respecting some schoolbooks, and trampled it
viciously. Then she sat on a low chair, buried her face in her hands,
and laughed at her own folly. Soon her laughter gave way to tears."It is so maddening," she said to herself, "to think that I am not
so angry because I have such a prize at stake. A chance in life of
becoming a countess, with carriages and servants at my command. It is
not all this which I am so eager to gain,
so fearful to lose! It is the love for Lord Raven, who holds all these
benefits in his gift. In a garret with him, starving on bread and tea,
as I have starved in the Paris days, or in a wilderness with him,
living in a cave, would be better than riches and a coronet with
another man! This must be love such as I never dreamed of, and have
mocked at, yet what a slavery it is!"Then Vivette began to throw all her belongings into her small
trunk. They were strangely small for a young lady of the world."Such a scant stock of skirts and stockings," she said, looking
ruefully into her box, "as falls to the lot of few who are accounted
genteel. And, what is more, few as they are, I never had so good a
stock before in all my life. Three dresses, and not one of silk. Never
mind, when I draw my pay I will appear in a black velveteen dress and
a silver locket, and people shall say that I look fit to be Lady
Raven, or Countess of Riverswood."Everything was put into the box, which was locked, and a cord was
tied round it by Vivette, who could do almost anything that required
strength and dexterity. She was, indeed, capable of carrying the box
down herself, but that would have touched her dignity. She went into
the sitting-room, which was very small. The countess, the doctor, and
the two nurses, who had now arrived, made a crowd in it. Vivette went
up to the couch. Lord Raven's eyes were closed."He is sleeping," said the countess, but at that very moment the
young nobleman opened his gray eyes and fixed them on Vivette. There
was a wandering look in them. A flush came upon his face as he
said:"Are you the wife of the man with the black hair and the shabby
brown coat?"Vivette was equal to the occasion."Oh! yes," she said gaily. "I am the wife of the man. He sells matches and sings ballads in the streets!""I am afraid you are telling a falsehood, Miss Carruthers!" said
Lord Raven quietly.CHAPTER
XIV.THE DRIVE TO COTSWOLD.Lord Raven was very white, and his gray eyes blazed. There was a
half-conscious look in them, as they searched the face of Vivette
Carruthers eagerly.She could not prevent the telltale blood from flooding her cheeks,
and her heart beat fast when she met his penetrating glance."I think you are telling a falsehood," he said again. "I am sure
that you are married to the man with the long-pointed beard with whom
you walked in that garden where the trees were so green."Lord Raven was again relapsing into unconsciousness.Doctor Barker came forward and put his hand gently on the arm of
Miss Carruthers."Somehow he gets excited when he talks to you," the doctor said,
speaking in a low, hurried voice. "You had better go, young lady."Vivette's heart leaped with a sudden joy at the doctor's words."Then," she said to herself, "I am at least something to him, and I
will become more."She walked away slowly and unwillingly with Lady Riverswood. They
entered the carriage, and were whirled off through the green lanes
toward Cotswold.It was some time before Lady Riverswood spoke, then she
said:"They have already arrested one man on suspicion of being the
robber and assailant of Lord Raven."Vivette looked up. The countess felt her give a great start, and
she saw that Vivette was as pale as marble. The countess had her own
interpretation of this strange fear and excitement on the part of the
young person who taught her grandchildren."The idiot is in a state of sentimental admiration for Raven," she
said to herself. "She has only seen him since his illness, but he is
handsome, and a lord, and she is full of vengeance toward his
enemies. How much she would have liked the interesting position of
nurse to him if I had not prevented it."I don't think myself," pursued the countess, aloud. "that they
have the right man, at all, for there were only five shillings found
on the wretch they apprehended, whereas Raven had twenty sovereigns in
his pocket and a gold box with an authenticated portrait of Madam Du
Barry on the lid. But the man wore a shirt, on the sleeve of which
was a spot of blood. Also, in his pocket was found a sharp instrument,
something like a hammer, and they say that this is stained with blood,
and that brown hairs, the color of poor Raven's, are sticking to
it."Miss Carruthers, are you going to faint? I should have fancied
that you were very healthy. I intend my grandchildren to learn
something of surgery in the course of their education. I have strong
notions on these subjects. A woman should be able to look on wounds
and bloodshed without fainting.""But I am not going to faint, your ladyship.""No, certainly not," the countess answered, with a cold smile, "but
I thought your nerves were stronger. I have no doubt that the man who
attacked Lord Raven is in
custody. Since neither money nor the gold box were found upon him, all
they can do will be to offer him a pardon if he will betray his
accomplice, the villain who has possession of the property."Vivette turned away her head so that the countess should not see
her white, scared face. The carriage had left the lanes now, and was
bowling along a level road, with the blue hills of Malvern close on
one side, and on the other an immense stretch of open hill-and-dale
country. Towns and villages clotted the landscape. With a glass one
could see on a fine day from that point the white houses of the
fashionable town of Cheltenham and the cathedral towers of the ancient
city of Worcester; but Miss Carruthers saw nothing of the landscape,
nothing of those towns flanked by autumn-tinted woods, now all fading
in the fleeting light of the October afternoon. She was filled with a
great horror. If she had dared, she would have uttered a prayer, but
as it was, she only prayed that the life of Lord Charles Raven might
be spared."We are extending our drive," said the countess presently, "for I
have been so much upset by this occurrence, and it is necessary to
brace the nerves with plenty of fresh air. We will return now to
Cotswold. After lunch I wish you to take your pupils, as usual, to
their lessons in the schoolroom. I never wish my children,
grandchildren, or those about me, to neglect their duties on the score
of excited feelings."Vivette thought to herself: "This woman is a countess and an
aristocrat, but she is a brute at heart! She knows I have been up all
night, and sees that I am agitated, and even ill, yet she will pin me
down to the hateful task of teaching those stupid little creatures,
her grandchildren. I cannot do
it. I will plead a violent headache, and go to bed."The carriage returned along the same road, and in due time reached
one of the entrance-gates of Cotswold. The coachman gave his
call-whistle, and a neat, humble woman, all smiles, came and
unfastened the bolt, and the carriage swept in."Let me give way to fancy, at least for five minutes," said Vivette
to herself, as she leaned back. "Suppose me Countess of Riverswood,
and that this haughty tyrant at my side is asleep in the family vaults
below the grand old church where the dead-and-gone Riverswoods molder
together as aristocrats should molder. I am young and strong. She is
in the sear and yellow leaf. I wonder who would care very much if she
were gone? But suppose that ten years are past, and that she, with all
her busy plans and schemes, is gone--and that Raven is Earl of
Riverswood, and I am his countess; this great park my park; these
prancing grays my horses, should I be happy? Why not? Why is one spot,
one memory, to embitter the whole of my life? There is the house, and
what a noble one it is! But, countess, I am not going to the
schoolroom to teach this afternoon. I am going to bed with one of the
most violent headaches possible!"Vivette stood before the glass in her room, a small room
comparatively, in a corner passage of the great house, but it is
charmingly, even luxuriously, furnished. There is a couch and a
wardrobe, a bathroom, and a writing-table, besides some tastefully
arranged shelves, loaded with handsomely bound books. These Miss Sparks has collected from various
parts of the house, and she has brought them to decorate the room of
Miss Carruthers, and to enliven her solitary hours. Miss Sparks has
taken an immense fancy to the dark-eyed governess.Vivette had again changed her dress. She was determined to look her
best before all these proud people, for she had been invited to meet
them at lunch. The countess had intimated, with one of those
condescending smiles that the girl so hates, that she had better make
the lunch her dinner, and after lessons the rest of the evening would
be her own."I wish I were meek and patient," said Vivette, "instead of being
rebellious, discontented, and impatient. Oh! I never, never shall
be. I can read my own face in the glass, and I see that I never shall
be. I have never wished to be handsome until now," the girl added,
after a moment's contemplation of her face and figure. "All those
students in Paris raved about me, and though I knew I was not
handsome, I also knew that I was charming, and I was satisfied. But
though I charmed those boys, I don't think I have charmed him. He is
puzzled and interested, that is all. If he went away to-morrow and
plunged into the world, he would forget me at once. Only he can't go
away to-morrow, and if I only have time I may win his love yet."Vivette wore a dark-green dress, with a white ruffle add cuffs, and
a white rose, which she had gathered in the garden at Rosalind
Cottage. Her magnificent dark hair was gathered into a rich smooth
knot at the back of her shapely head; and it curled low on her square
white brow. She was not handsome, even with her great black flashing
eyes. Her features were not pretty, though her lips were red, and her
teeth were white, and the
whole face bespoke vivacity and an eager intelligence. But her figure
was superb."Why should I not be a countess?" the ambitious girl said. She
actually spoke aloud, and asked the question of herself in the
glass."Do you think you would make a worthy one?" said a voice from the
bathroom, into which Miss Carruthers had not looked since she had
entered her sleeping-chamber. She had been too busily engaged in
making alterations in her toilet, and finding room for her belongings
in the wardrobe.The person who asked the question walked out of the dressing-room,
and looked straight at Vivette. She was a young woman, dressed in a
dark-blue velvet robe, plainly made. She was very fair and slender,
with hair of pale-gold, a pale complexion, an aquiline nose, and blue
eyes, which were calm, yet inquiring. She wore a white lace shawl,
fastened by an enormous, almost priceless, diamond.Vivette knew her at once as her cousin and rival, the rich heiress
who was to marry Lord Raven and pay off the mortgage on the
estate. She hated her at once, and prepared to manifest her
hatred.Vivette often allowed temper and feeling to mar her prospects in
life, and was scarcely a woman of the world."So, whoever you are, mademoiselle, you have been acting the part
of an eavesdropper, have you? Watching me when I believed myself
alone, and listening to the words which I spoke to myself. I cannot
compliment you on your good feeling, still less on your good
taste!""I do not wish you, or anyone, to compliment me," the young lady
answered. "I dislike flatteries of all sorts, but I will endeavor to
defend myself from the charge
of being an eavesdropper. I have been watching you, I admit. I came in
here because I wished to make your acquaintance, and Miss Sparks has
told me that this was your room. You were not here, so I went into the
dressing-room; then I heard you come in. I resolved to watch you, and
judge for myself what kind of a girl you were. When you spoke you
uttered some unwise words, and I answered them.""And you answered them!" said Vivette, in a mocking voice. The
girl's brown face was flushed, and her black eyes flashed. She raised
her head haughtily, and looked angrily down upon the slender young
person in blue velvet."I am afraid you are headstrong," said the fair young
lady. "Perhaps when I tell you who I am you may regret your
roughness. I am Miss Carruthers, daughter of Mr. Gervase Carruthers,
and I will frankly own myself your first cousin."As the heiress spoke she extended a long white hand, which Vivette
would not take."I am not meek, or humble," she said, "and I can't cringe. I feel
annoyed at your watching me. I don't see that you have the right to
lord it over me because you are rich and I am poor, and I don't care
who I offend," she added, speaking as if to herself. "I can't bow down
to a girl of my own age, who is not better than I am."She paused and bit her lip, as if she had said too much. But it
took more than this to upset the self-possessed calmness of Elaine
Carruthers. She took a seat on the little couch, unasked by Vivette,
and said:"You are certainly very headstrong, but, fortunately, I have a
large stock of patience. I will admit frankly that I have confidence in you to a certain
extent. Such a character as yours may be offensive, rude, and foolish,
but it is quite sure to be honest."While the heiress spoke, she was looking down at the gay pattern of
the carpet, and, therefore, did not see the look of wrath, pain, and
shame that swept over the fine face of her cousin.Vivette bit her red lips, and tears started to her eyes, but she
dashed them hastily away."Am I honest, oh! merciful Heaven?" she asked herself
bitterly.CHAPTER
XV.ELAINE CARRUTHERS."My father and myself both knew that you were here," said
Elaine. "My parents have felt very much for you, and they do not
intend to discard you if you behave well. My father was pleased to
find that you had the energy to look out for work, and the courage to
accept it when offered, though you might naturally have been afraid of
undertaking the position of governess in the family of an English
nobleman.""That kind of thing would not alarm, me. I am not at all afraid of
English noblemen," said Vivette insolently.The heiress looked up at her cousin in alarm."I hope," she said, "that you are prudent. If you are frivolous,
and unprincipled, I cannot consent to live with you, but if you are
modest, as a girl in your position should be, I will make you my
companion.""Your paid companion, Miss Carruthers?" asked Vivette."Certainly. You will have a sufficient salary on which to
dress. Sixty pounds a year my father thinks would be enough. You will
have to write my notes, read to me when I am tired, drive out with me,
and give me lessons in painting. You have some skill as an artist, I
hear?""I shall be a humble companion," said Vivette, "but no power on
earth shall make me a toady or a flatterer.""I told you just now," said the heiress, "that I did not like
flatteries, but I think you a little too rude and rough.""I have no wish to be either," said Vivette; "but I find it
difficult sometimes to avoid speaking my mind."All the time she was saying in her own heart, "I am an idiot! The
object of my life has been to obtain a footing in the family of this
banker, and now, when it is offered me, I am ready to quarrel with
this girl through whom I ought to make my fortune. Why should I not
induce my rich uncle to make me an heiress, he has sufficient fortune?
When Raven comes courting this yellow-haired girl, with her high nose,
narrow forehead, narrow soul, and cold, precise manners, I will show
him how different I am! and charm him, yes, and win him away from her,
if I know anything of my own powers!"Miss Carruthers, the heiress, looked, meanwhile, on her cousin, the
poor orphan, with a great deal of pity. She contemplated her as from a
lofty height, and said to herself, "Poor creature, she will learn how
to behave, and gain juster notions, when she has been some months with
me!"For Elaine had been reared in an atmosphere of flattery and
adulation from her cradle, and had learned to look upon herself as one
of the most perfect beings on the face of the earth. She had not an
original mind, and, consequently, since nurses and governesses had
perpetually asserted that she was beautiful, amiable, and the most
perfect person under the sun, she firmly believed all that they had
said. Thus the young heiress had grown to be the most extraordinary
egotist. Her teachers had corrected her mistakes in her French and
German exercises, and had actually made her believe that she had corrected them herself. It was the
same with her music, painting, and singing.Elaine had been told on all sides that she was a genius, and she
fully believed it. She was not naturally spiteful, or ill-natured,
unless, as had happened perhaps twice in her life, she had been
deprived of something on which she had set her heart, and then her
rage had known no bounds. But all that had happened more than a dozen
years ago, in her childhood. Since she had come to woman's estate she
had never heard it hinted that she was anything less than an angel,
until Vivette spoke so roughly to her to-day.Since she could afford to pity Vivette, as a plain, poor, ill-bred
girl, who would depend for everything upon her good pleasure, she did
not allow the insubordination to vex her. Indeed, there was something
piquant and almost refreshing in Vivette's spirit, but the heiress, it
is true, called it her ignorance.Elaine thought Vivette ugly because she was "swarthy," as she
phrased it, though in truth Vivette's complexion was a clear
olive. But then Elaine had one standard of beauty, which was her
own!And was she not beautiful? Had she been a poor governess very few
people would have called her even pretty. She had regular features, a
high, aquiline nose, rather thin lips, and a very fair skin. She was
pale, and her eyes were pale-blue, and her forehead was very
narrow. Her hair was certainly pretty, being very abundant, and of a
pale-gold, but she had undefined eyebrows and scanty eyelashes. There
was nothing striking in her long, narrow face, which bespoke delicacy
of health, as did also her slender, fragile form.It would be quite impossible to imagine a greater contrast than these two young cousins Carruthers
presented to each other, physically and mentally. Elaine was the
heiress of a fortune in bank-shares, mines, and railways. She had
always been told, since she had entered her twelfth year, that she
could marry any one short of a prince. Then, though she was only
twenty-one, she had already received, either by letter or through her
father, as many as twelve offers. She was by no means one of those
sensitive heiresses who set down every kind look that a man gives them
to the score of their fortune. Elaine firmly believed that her grace
and beauty had won for her all those hearts. She had a great ivory box
full of the notes which devoted and despairing suitors had sent her;
in these she was called "divine, lovely, enchanting," and she believed
every word they contained.She was quite prepared to become Lady Raven. She had seen Lord
Raven's photograph, and she had condescended to say that she thought
him handsome. Indeed, the prospect of becoming Lady Raven first, and
afterward Countess of Riverswood, was a very pleasant one to this
young lady. It never entered her head that Lord Raven, who had never
seen her, might be going to marry her for her money. She believed that
the fame of her beauty and talents had reached him, and that, in
consequence, he was willing to lay his heart, his title, and his
estates at her feet.Elaine liked to rule. On her father's estate, a splendid one in the
county of York, she had model schools and farms, all under her own
direction. She was not generous, but she strove to be just, according
to her lights. In reality, Elaine had never won the genuine love of a
single human being since first she saw the light, if we except her
parents, who doted on her. She herself was cold, precise, and methodical, and would have thought
it beneath her dignity to give strong affection to any creature. In
her heart she was reserving what power she had in her of loving for
Lord Raven, with whose likeness, in her own cold fashion, she was
charmed."You will find," said Elaine, "that it does not answer in society
to speak your mind. You will learn a great deal from me if you are my
companion. But I can hardly promise that you shall come, until I have
introduced you to my father. He may not take quite the same view that
I take of you, so don't build too much on what I have said to you. Now
I hear the lunch-gong. Will you follow, me down-stairs?"Then the heiress swept down the grand staircase, followed by
Vivette.CHAPTER
XVI.LORD RAVEN'S APPEARANCE.We pass over hastily the events of the fortnight which followed on
the arrival of the Carruthers family at Cotswold.Vivette found the banker a white-haired man, with a handsome face,
which looked thirty years younger than his white hair. He had black
eyes, full of inquiry, and a pleasant, though rare, smile. He received
her as his niece kindly, but said she did not bear any resemblance to
his brother, her father, who had been fair, and with aquiline nose,
and more like Elaine.Vivette said that she was like her dead mother. She wept some
genuine tears as she spoke of her. Whereupon the banker tried to cheer
her by offering her the position of companion to his daughter.Vivette answered very modestly, "I am engaged to teach the
grandchildren of the countess up to Christmas." She was surprised to
learn that the Carruthers family purposed staying at Cotswold to
within a week of Christmas, when they were going back to their town
house in Belgrave Square. Therefore, she was to continue to give
lessons to the children, and to leave with her newly found relations
at the end of six weeks.Meanwhile, Lord Raven progressed toward recovery. Every-day the
countess drove over to see him. A great doctor from Worcester called
every other day upon him, and held consultations with Doctor
Barker.Vivette tried hard to get an opportunity of seeing him by calling at Rosalind Cottage,
but the countess was on her guard, and foiled her at every turn. She
set her tasks of needlework, and, in short, monopolized nearly her
whole time.Elaine was calm and patient in regard to her betrothed. She
scarcely ever condescended to make any inquiry after him. The young
lady was fully persuaded in her own mind that the very moment Lord
Raven saw her he would fall in love with her, and she calmly awaited
the time when this would happen, feeling as certain that it would
happen as she was that the sun would rise. She and Vivette saw but
little of each other during those weeks while Lord Raven lay ill at
Rosalind Cottage.The man suspected of being his assailant was in Worcester County
Jail, awaiting his trial, The earl was about again now, hobbling on
crutches. Vivette was one day introduced to him by her Uncle
Carruthers. He was a little man, with a proud, clean-shaven, handsome
face, and iron-gray hair. He was polite to Vivette, "as one is polite
to a servant," so she said to herself, and so the days followed the
days.We have not said anything of Mrs. Carruthers, the mother of
Elaine. She was a very stout, splendidly dressed woman, with very
little to say for herself, and her daughter ruled her completely.November came, with howling storms, which stripped the trees. The
north wind blew, and the hills were tipped with snow, but still Lord
Raven was at Rosalind Cottage. It was a fine afternoon for the time of
year, piercingly cold, but the sun shone, and the sky was
blue. Vivette sat alone in the schoolroom, and for once it seemed to
her that the vigilance of the countess slept. That august lady had
gone out for a drive with the earl and the three Carruthers in a waggonette. The children
had gone to Cheltenham by train with their mother, and would not
return until the next day.Vivette had dined at the luncheon-hour. The rest of the evening was
virtually her own. She made up her mind to walk to Rosalind Cottage
and see the invalid, and she was just debating within herself what she
should wear, when a shadow came between her eyes and the sunshine. The
next moment Lord Raven unfastened the French window and entered the
room.Vivette rose to her feet with a glad cry, which she could not
repress.Lord Raven was very pale, and had that gentleness of manner that in
some men follows after recovery from illness."Heaven bless you!" he said kindly. He took both the girl's hands
in his, and sat down, with his feet toward the blazing fire. "Why have
you not been to see me, Vivette?" he said gently."Because the countess would not let me. She employed the whole of
my time so that I could not get away.""I thought so," he said. "I know what my mother is. She is
dreadfully afraid that I shall fall in love with you, Vivette. She
does not know how utterly impossible that is. I have no love left," he
sighed; "but I like you better, I think, than any one else I
know."The girl's heart leaped."They are all out," continued Lord Raven; "I heard that, and that
you were here. Mrs. Bonner told me. She is a capital old woman, and
is, I think, as anxious that I should fall in love with you as my
mother is that I should not. Don't blush so, Vivette, it is not worth
while. You know that I can
never be anything but your friend. The doctor gave me leave yesterday
to come home, but I waited until they were all out, and have now
returned in a hired carriage, and have walked round from the
front. Vivette, have you seen my fiancée?""Oh! yes," Vivette replied, looking dreamily into the fire."Well, is she ugly, or beautiful?""Neither," said Vivette."Is she gentle, or a female Turk?""Neither," said Vivette; "but I hate her!"Lord Raven laughed. These strange moods of Vivette delighted
him. The girl's nostrils and red lips quivered with intense
emotion. She was pale, and there were tears in her black eyes."Why do you hate her?" asked Lord Raven."Because she is cold, and can't feel, and exalts herself above
every one else, and she is to be the Countess of Riverswood.""Yes," replied the young man coldly, "that must be. It is a
marriage which is arranged, but she is cold, and will not love me,
and, better still, will not expect me to love her.""How dreadful such a marriage is!" said Vivette."Not at all," said Lord Raven. "I have no love for her, or for any
one, yet I must marry. And you say she isn't ugly?""No," said Vivette, who was crying.Lord Raven kept smiling, and looking at the fire. Did he guess
Vivette's secret?"What are you crying for?" he said, at length, looking up into the
girl's dark face, but the expression he saw there was one of
horror.Vivette was looking through the window into the garden, and Lord
Raven saw a man slinking off among the trees."That is the man I dreamed of," cried he. "Who is he,
Vivette?"CHAPTER
XVII.VIVETTE'S SECRET.Lord Raven was convinced, when he looked at the white,
terror-stricken face of Vivette, her dilating eyes and parted lips,
that no fiction of the fancy, no dream of the imagination, had
presented itself to him while he lay ill at Rosalind Cottage, but a
real, tangible, living presence. A face, as he remembered it, with a
handsome aquiline nose, and large, dark eyes, but a face crafty and
hard, cruel and sensual.Lord Raven was very young, but he was very observant. He was fond
of studying the various types of characters that he met, and he knew
something of classes and orders of persons far below his own rank. He
had more than once met with men of the exact type of the unpleasing
personage who was now slinking off among the trees.Good heavens! had he power of some kind over Vivette, this
creature, all fire and warmth, and generous enthusiasm?She must be his wife, or she has promised to marry him, and
repents, or there may be a yet sadder story to unravel. Poor
Vivette!All this time Lord Raven's keen gray eyes were searching Vivette's
face, and she was looking toward the bushes where the man was
skulking."Vivette," said Lord Raven, at length, speaking now in a tender
voice; "Vivette, who is that man, tell me?"She looked at Lord Raven, and made an effort to speak but she only laughed
hysterically. Then she arose, and leaned on the mantelpiece, hiding
her face in her hands."I am such a coward," she began. "I--I am afraid of that man, and I
cannot help it. I saw him once at Rosalind Cottage!" she went on, now
speaking rapidly.All the while that she was talking, Lord Raven was watching her,
and saying to himself:"She is telling lies, and I cannot prove that she is, but I will
watch her, and find out her secret trouble, and relieve her from it,
if possible. It is my own firm conviction that she had contracted a
marriage with that wretch, perhaps even unknown to her careless,
selfish father up to the time of his death. The fellow threatens to
come forward and disclose the fact, unless she keeps him supplied with
money from her earnings. When she really enters the family of
Mr. Gervase Carruthers, her uncle, he will be forever levying
blackmail, and threatening to tell the banker that she is his
wife."How much better for her to tell the truth at once, and get a
judicial separation from the vagabond."Vivette continued:"The other night, a few days before you were attacked, my lord, I
was coming home to Rosalind Cottage rather later than usual. I had
taken a walk, and had seen the moon rise over the hills. I am fond of
moonlight and summer sunrise, and I walked along at last toward home,
dreaming, as fools dream who do not dare to think of life as it
is. And then I came down, my lord, to prosaic thoughts and commonplace
wishes."Vivette laughed, but Lord Raven was not mistaken, for there was a
sound of tears in her voice."I thought that I was hungry. I hoped that Mrs. Bonner would have
provided something nice for my tea, as she so often did, good soul. Then I saw a man leaning on
the gate of the garden, and I felt my heart contract, for I was very
much afraid that I had seen him somewhere abroad during the lifetime
of my poor father."She paused, as if a lump in her throat had risen and prevented her
from speaking, but Lord Raven would not help her by word or sign or
look of encouragement. He studied the pattern of the schoolroom carpet
with gloomy, abstracted eyes, and left Vivette to tell her own strange
story in her own fashion."When I came close to the gate," continued Vivette, "the moon shone
on the man's face, and I found that I was right. I knew him to be a
person whom my father was once intimate with. I had not seen him for
two years, but he knew me again; he took off his hat, claimed
acquaintance, and invited himself to tea.""And you," cried Lord Raven, now striking in angrily, "why did you
allow yourself one moment's conversation with him? What claim, in the
name of Heaven, had he on you, if he was ten times your father's
friend?"His vehemence, his passion, made the heart of Vivette thrill with
the sweetest hope."He cares for me," she said to herself, "or he would never be so
angry. This is jealousy; there is never jealousy without love."In thinking this, Vivette uttered a fallacy. Surely, the man or the
woman who is habitually jealous knows nothing of love in its noblest,
most self-sacrificing aspect. In the same way people of very violent
tempers are frequently supposed to have strong affections, whereas
they are oftener cold, hard, unfeeling, and armed with a stock of
brutal selfishness.Lord Raven was none of these. His temper was fiery, but he had learned to curb it. Within him
slumbered the capacity for deep and true affection, though he believed
that his heart was dead, while it only slept. Vivette judged him now
wrongly. She thought him jealous of her love, while in truth he was
only jealous of her reputation and her welfare, as a brother might
have been. However, her young heart began to sing a joyful song, and,
for a space, all creation seemed rose-color."I could not help speaking to him," she said demurely. "His name is
Terrance. I asked him into the house, and he had tea with me. He told
me my father had owed him five hundred francs. He was so poor, he
said, that he had not enough left to support him for a week., He asked
me to pay him, for he called it a debt of honor. I gave him a
sovereign, and I must work out the rest. I--"Lord Raven interrupted her by striking the table loudly."The infernal scoundrel!" he cried. "Excuse me, young lady, but
this makes the heart of a man rage within him. To come to you, a weak
girl, a child, for twenty pounds! Oh! I should like to take him by the
throat and shake him!"Vivette was very white now. Lord Raven was watching her with a deep
curiosity.Some of this tale was true, he felt convinced. Doubtless it was
quite true that the man had watched at the gate for the return of this
young girl. Most likely he had taken tea with her, and it was certain
to be true that he was persecuting her for money. But, then, in what
relation did he stand to her, or in what relation had he stood to her
father? Why was she so much afraid of him?"I hope, I entreat, Lord Raven, that you will not hurt him!" she
said."Is he, then, dear to you?" the young lord asked scornfully."In some degree, yes," Vivette answered, speaking quickly, her
breast heaving, the color coming and going in her cheeks. "He was a
friend, my father was fond of him, and for the memory of my dead
father I would wish to be at least gentle toward him.""Vivette," said Lord Raven, after a pause, "I see that you are in
this man's power. Is it so?"She turned away her head, and tried to laugh, but some inward
feeling stronger than her pride overcame her. Scalding tears came into
her eyes, and Lord Raven, looking at her, asked himself what kind of
tears they were. Tears of sorrow for the dead, or tears of humiliation
and bitter shame, such as a girl might shed who had, by some caprice
of fate, tied her life to that of a man like that "scamp," as Lord
Raven called him in his thoughts?"I am almost sure either that she is married to him," Lord Raven
thought, "or else that she has promised to become his wife, and is
afraid to fulfil or to break the promise.""You are in this man's power," continued Lord Raven, "in some
way. Let me help you. As for this twenty pounds, I will pay him if he
will give a receipt, but I will not give him a farthing unless he
promises never to attempt to speak to you again as long as he
lives."Vivette uttered a hasty ejaculation in French. Was it joy, or fear,
or surprise? Lord Raven could not tell."I am afraid, under the circumstances, that is impossible," said
Vivette.Lord Raven smiled sadly, and he said to himself:"It is as I fancied, she is the wife of that man. Then is this
Mr. Terrance--you said his name was Terrance, did you not, Miss
Carruthers?""Yes," Vivette answered, in a low tone."Is this Mr. Terrance to haunt your steps, to take tea with you at
your cottage, and to come to Cotswold Castle after you? Is it not too
much?""Yes," Vivette answered, "and he must not come again here. Indeed,
when I go away with my aunt and uncle he must not follow, but until I
have paid him this money I most see him from time to time. My father's
memory is dear to me, and--""And he, perhaps, has it in his power to pelt dirt at his
tombstone," said Lord Raven gravely. "Well, you see, Miss Carruthers,
you only honor me with half of your confidence. I am afraid I cannot
help you, at least, I will give you the money this man claims, if it
will do any good--but will it?""Yes--yes," Vivette answered eagerly. "If I paid him that he would
go away, and he need never know that I am going away with my
relations."Lord Raven looked at her curiously. He would have given ten times
twenty pounds to know what was passing in the mind of Vivette. But,
then, to be sure, he was a young nobleman with extravagant notions,
and two hundred pounds was a small sum in his eyes."I would give ten years of my life," said Vivette to herself, "to
know how much he cares for, and what he thinks of me. He likes me, I
know he likes me, but, does he love me?" Vivette sighed as she thought
how much she loved him."I must give her this money," said Lord Raven, to himself; "and she
must pay the fellow off."He went slowly from the room, and, left alone, Vivette sat down,
and covered her face, and wept violently. She was afraid to look out
through the window, for she fancied the terrible man Terrance was all
the time watching her from among the trees. Presently, the door
opened, and she heard the footstep of Lord Raven on the floor. Another
moment, and he stood by her side."Here is a bank-note for twenty pounds, Miss Carruthers," said the
young lord. "Will you give it to this man Terrance, and tell him never
to set foot again within the gates of Cotswold; because, if you won't
tell him so, I must.""I will tell him so, Lord Raven," said Vivette. "And since I am now
an inmate of Cotswold, I don't see how he can follow me. I hate to
have him to follow me," and she shuddered."You had better see him soon," said Lord Raven. "He is not an
agreeable person to be trusted alone with an unprotected lady. So if
you will tell me where you would like to see him, I will keep
watch.""No, no!" said Vivette, with a look of terror in her 'dark eyes. "I
am not afraid of him as one is afraid of a robber. He was too fond of
my father to injure me. No, I will put my shawl over my head and run
down to those trees, and give him the money. Oh! Lord Raven, how kind
you are! How can I thank you enough?""Don't thank me at all, please," the young nobleman said
coldly.How pale his handsome face was, yet how grave, thought Vivette, as,
with a shawl thrown over her head, she rushed across the frosty lawn
toward the belt of trees where the mysterious man was
hiding.CHAPTER
XVIII.AN EVENING IN THE DRAWING-ROOM.Lord Raven folded his arms and watched the belt of trees at the
farther end. A gloomy frown brought his level brows together. He was
deeply interested in Vivette, this daily governess of his little
nieces, who had come so suddenly and oddly to vary the stately
monotony of every-day life at Cotswold Castle. Strange that she should
be the first cousin of his fiancée, the millionaire's
daughter!"If it had not been that I had dreamed my dream," he said to
himself, "I might have been idiot enough, perhaps, to fall in love
with her. Good Heaven! what a torrent of troubles I am spared by being
henceforth armor-proof against all the darts of Cupid! He lurks now in
the corners of Vivette's eyes. Some poor wretch has fallen, or will
fall, into the trap, will give her his heart, and receive, perhaps,
nothing in return. Not I, thank Heaven, and yet I believe honestly
that it is in her to love as a man dreams and hopes to be loved before
he knows the world and the ways of women."But, my sweet Vivette, your smiles and storms are all thrown away
upon me. I only hope you are not the wife of that ruffian, for I am
sure that he is a ruffian, and that you are not telling me all the
truth about him. There she comes."Vivette was, indeed, hastening across the lawn with her shawl
wrapped over her head "like a handsome factory-girl in a novel of
Manchester life," said Lord Raven, with a smile, to himself. "How like a saint her face
and attitude were just then as she looked up, and the gray shawl
framed the face like a nun's hood. It is not a beautiful face, but it
is more interesting than many a beautiful face."Vivette walked up to the French window, and smiled at Lord Raven,
who turned the handle, and held back the glass door for the girl to
enter. She flung the gray shawl on the table, and sat down before the
fire, shivering a little."It is cold, my lord," she said, and her white teeth chattered."I know that," he answered, a little testily, "but I want you to
tell me, if you will, what arrangement you have come to with this man
Terrance?"Lord Raven waited for a reply, but Vivette looked in gloomy silence
at the fire. He was distressed, but not in the least angry with
Vivette, whom he pitied from his very soul."I think," he said, "that you are very unhappy, and that you have
reason to dread that man? I am a shrewd observer for my years, and I
think I have found out that Mr. Terrance is more to you, far more,
than you have admitted to me."Vivette uttered a cry of terror, but stifled it at once."Oh! Lord Raven!" she said, "what do you mean, what do you suppose?
how you must despise me if you think--" She stopped short now, and
wrung her hands, as if afraid that she had said too much. She looked
imploringly into the handsome, yet keen, face of the man she
loved. "What do you mean? What do you suspect?" she asked
passionately."I don't know what to think, Vivette, but I see you are afraid of this man. You think
that you are in his power. Perhaps you make a mistake, or perhaps you
even love him, or have loved him. I don't wish to pry into your
secrets, Vivette, and yet you must know that I take an interest in
you. Our acquaintance began through a wild freak on my part. I only
thought you a dashing, amusing girl; now I see that you are much more,
and I feel as if you were my sister!"Vivette started. It was as if Lord Raven had struck her. Sister!
When she felt that if another woman became his wife she would drown
herself, but she said nothing."I want to deliver you from the power of this man. Who is he,
Vivette?""He is Mr. Terrance, Lord Raven, a friend of my poor dead
father's!""You said that just now, but a friend of your dead father's should
have no claim upon you. Did you promise to marry him, and does he seek
to hold you to that promise?"Vivette buried her face in her hands, and held secret counsel with
her own soul. At last, she lifted up her face, and looked straight
into the face of Lord Raven."You have guessed my secret," she said slowly. "My father promised
him that I should marry him, and he wishes to hold me to the bargain,
not because he loves me, but because I am to be adopted by my rich
uncle, and he thinks I shall inherit a fortune. He threatens, if I do
not marry him, that he will tell my Uncle Carruthers of some
transaction in which my father cheated at cards. He says that he will
not only tell him, but he will publish it all in the papers if I do
not consent to become his wife!"'And what answer did you give him?" Lord Raven asked."I, oh! I--I--said that I must have time to think it over,"
faltered poor Vivette."Time to think over it?" Lord Raven spoke sternly. There was not
the shadow of a smile upon his face. "You consider this man to be a
scoundrel, and yet you contemplate possibly becoming his wife? Oh!
Miss Carruthers!""Does he love me?" Vivette asked herself; "is he jealous? Oh,
idiot, if I should risk everything upon so desperate a scheme, and
speak the truth!"But Vivette did not speak. She arose, and began, as was her wont
sometimes when excited, to pace the room rapidly."I cannot run the risk of his covering the name of my dead father
with shame," she said, at length, and she came and stood before Lord
Raven. "I do not know, you see, what may happen! If I can only gain
time! I have told him to leave me three whole months in which to make
up my mind, and in that time who knows what may happen? Somebody may
love me, and I may return his love, and we may marry, and defy that
man!"She spoke these last sentences slowly, distinctly, in low, clear
tones. Lord Raven listened, and there was a deafening sound in his
ears. His blood tingled in his veins, and his heart thumped
wildly.Was this girl going to offer to become his wife, a present Lady
Raven, a future Countess of Riverswood? If so, of course he had his
answer ready. He had already, told Vivette that he must marry for
wealth, that he must marry her cousin, Miss Elaine Carruthers. Still,
his heart would
thump, and his ears would tingle, and he felt most miserably confused
and uncomfortable."I can't give advice," said Lord Raven quickly. "I am shocked that
you did not dare and defy such a man to do his worst.""Forgive me," said Vivette, and she began to sob. "Remember how
unprotected I am, and that man threatens to pour shame on my father's
memory, and I am afraid that my uncle would discard me!""Well," said Lord Raven, "you know best; but it seems to me that if
ever you do marry such a man your uncle will most likely discard
you. Listen! I hear the sound of carriage-wheels! My mother and the
whole party have returned, then, this evening, instead of in the
morning. I must wish you good afternoon, Miss Carruthers. I must call
Wilkinson, and go to my room."He bowed to her courteously, and left the room to call his valet,
Wilkinson, but the smile on his face was cold and
stern.Vivette was treated as "the governess" in the family of the Earl of
Riverswood. She was an unreasonable, restless, and ambitious girl, as
anybody must admit who has taken the trouble to follow her strange
story up to this period of her life. When she was treated as "the
governess," she rebelled in her heart, and thought herself
ill-used. It seemed to her the height of injustice that, after
breakfasting and dining with her pupils, she should be condemned to a
solitary tea in the schoolroom, and a lonely evening with her books,
or her work. A wine-decanter and a box of biscuits were brought in on
a tray at half-past ten o'clock to show that people knew she was alive, while the
great people and their visitors were enjoying music, and wine, and
social intercourse in the grand drawing-rooms.Her cousin and uncle were among these visitors, but neither of them
had ever attempted to ask for her to be invited to enter the rooms
during the evening. She had never cared about it until this evening,
but now she did care, for Lord Raven was among them all. He had dined
with his parents, and had been introduced to his future bride. Even
now he was talking to her in the green drawing-room.The schoolroom-maid, a neat girl, with a long, thin face, who loved
gossip, spoke to Miss Carruthers when she took that young lady in her
solitary tea."He don't seem a bit in love with her, not a single bit, Miss
Carruthers," said Perkins, folding her hands primly, and pursing up
her lips.Vivette's face was flushed. The wind, or the shawl which she had
wrapped over her head when she went down the lawn to speak to
Mr. Terrance, had made her dark hair rough, and the scarlet knot of
ribbon at her throat was crumpled. She looked sad and a little angry,
and there were traces of tears in her eyes. The schoolroom tea was
dainty enough, and daintily served. The silver cream-jug was filled
with rich cream, and there were delicate morsels of buttered toast,
preserves, a new-laid egg, and a bunch of fine grapes from the
hothouse. Somehow, this girl was vastly popular with the male and
female servants of the household, and they all strove to please her,
and serve her well."Can't you fancy an egg, Miss Carruthers?" Vivette shook her
head."No, I thank you, Perkins, but the tea and toast are
delicious. What o'clock is it, Perkins?""Half-past eight, miss. Dinner is over. They are all in the green
drawing-room. I went in to help the footman put up those long
shutters. I asked leave of him, for I did so want to see my lord and
his young lady keeping company.""And what did he say? how did he look? Tell me," said Vivette."He looked as if his thoughts were ten thousand miles away. Oh!
Miss Carruthers, we all know that my lord is in love with you!""Is he?" said Vivette doggedly. "Then he has a strong way of
showing it, Perkins." But all the same her heart beat wildly.She stirred her tea, and she was so glad that when she drank it
seemed like nectar. Then she heard the sound of pattering feet in the
corridor, and the door burst open, and in rushed the two Misses
Taylor, her little pupils. The children were in great excitement."Miss Carruthers, my mother says--""No, granny.""Grandmama--""Uncle Raven.""It was Mr. Carruthers--""No matter who says it," Vivette interrupted impatiently, "only
please tell me what they say.""You are to come in and play a waltz that Miss Carruthers heard
abroad, and she used to play it, but she has quite forgotten it. Uncle
Raven so wishes to hear it.""So that he sends for me! Indirectly, it is true, but he sends for
me," said the girl to herself. Then she said aloud, "I am not dressed for the drawing-room,
and I will have my tea, change my dress, and come in less than a
quarter of an hour."In a little more than ten minutes Vivette entered the grand
drawing-room. She walked with the pride and grace which was hers by
nature. She wore a plain dress of black silk, and a crimson rose at
her belt. She took her place at the piano, and played the dreamy waltz
for which Lord Raven had expressed such a liking. Her eyes did not
rest on the page, for she knew the piece by heart. She had once spoken
of that same piece to Lord Raven, or in his hearing, and he had known
that if asked to play it she could play it well. While she played she
watched Lord Raven and Elaine. Elaine looked supremely and perfectly
self-satisfied.She wore an exquisite robe of green velvet, and a necklace of large
emeralds. It was a rich and tasteful dinner-gown that might have been
designed for a princess. She was lounging back, smiling, and looking
at some photographs, and Lord Raven sat on the end of a couch in a
respectful attitude of attention.Vivette could not hear their words, but she knew that Miss
Carruthers believed that already Lord Raven was willing to die for her
sake, and all the while Lord Raven was listening to the waltz that
Vivette played."I am surprised you don't like chess," said Miss Carruthers. "I
have always heard it is a sign of a well-balanced mind when a person
likes chess.""Mine, then, is ill-balanced," said the reckless Lord Raven."Excuse me, but I object to jokes of that kind," said the
bride-elect, speaking with the gentle severity of one who reprimands a
child."I suppose you object to jokes of all kinds," said Lord Raven, with
a curious smile."Not to sensible ones," said the prim heiress.The waltz came to a close. Vivette arose, and left the room. Nobody
attempted to detain her. She was half-choking with rage. She mounted
the stairs, and was rushing along a corridor, when she heard the sound
of a voice that she knew. It was no spoken word, it was only a cough,
the constitutional cough of an asthmatic patient. She rushed into the
room, it was the chamber of the countess, and beyond it was a
dressing-room, in which a fire burned brightly.Vivette entered and saw a face at the window, a man's face, cunning
and evil, with aquiline nose, and dark, sinister eyes. The man stood
on the steps of a ladder reared against the window, and in his hand
was a white box of mother-of-pearl. Vivette Carruthers knew that it
contained the diamonds of the Countess of Riverswood, diamonds worth
five thousand pounds! She rushed up to the window, and strove to
wrench the box out of the man's hand."I will throw you down!" she said.CHAPTER
XIX.AN ATTEMPTED ROBBERY.It was a terrible moment for Vivette. Any one who had seen her at
that time could hardly have forgotten her. The beautiful even teeth
were clenched, and the dark, level brows were knitted into a frown
that made the face look unwomanly. There was terror, courage, and
desperate, unflinching determination which meant that she would face
death rather than yield.She held on to the ivory box which contained the jewels, held on
while the one hand of the ruffian wrenched her arm just below the
shoulder with a violence that threatened to dislocate it. The anguish
must have been great, but the girl bore it like a martyr. Only as the
pain grew she smiled, and then she spoke:"If you don't give up that box, I will call the house!"The man answered by a fearful curse."I care nothing for your life, Vivette!" he said. "You are no more
to me than any other, and I swear I will murder you if you don't let
go of that box! I will possess every diamond it contains. I care
nothing if I leave your dead body on the floor of this elegant little
room. Think what startling paragraphs the papers will have on the
occurrence in a day or two! Yes! I will silence you forever if you
don't give me that box!""And you shall have that additional crime then on your conscience!"
the brave girl answered. "I assure you I care very little for this
life of mine. It holds nothing particularly attractive for me, and I
would quite as soon die! Yes,
you may break my arm if you like, but you will not get this box out of
my hands! Can't you see that I too could kill you if I chose to throw
down the ladder on which you stand?"The man was in some peril. The dressing-room of the countess was on
the second story in the west tower of Cotswold Castle, and the descent
from the rung of the ladder on which the ruffian stood to the stone
terrace below was a dizzy one to contemplate.If Vivette chose, she could easily push the burglar down, and in
that case he must inevitably have been killed. He was aware of that,
and perhaps only the fear of what she might do, if he drove her
desperate, prevented him from struggling with her. As it was, he stood
on the ladder, and his right hand clutched the girl's arm, while with
his left he was compelled to steady the ladder. Vivette pulled at the
box with all the strength of her disengaged right hand. Her left hand
was almost powerless, for the man's muscular fingers had closed with
cruel tension round her arm.Neither of them would let go. Only the anguish which Vivette
endured was so acute, that great drops stood on her forehead, and her
breath came thick and fast. In another moment she would faint. The
thief smiled, for he saw his advantage. The hold on the precious box
grew weaker.All at once somebody rushed in through the doorway, and aimed a
strong blow at the box, which went spinning out of the hands of
Vivette to the other and of the dressing-room. The lock burst, and a
cross and chain of diamonds came streaming out.The ruffian saw them, and was desperate. If he beat his retreat now
down the ladder without any portion of the booty for which he had risked his liberty, and almost
his life, he might easily fall to the ground. Ten to one his adversary
would wait until he was near enough to the ground in descending to
break his leg or arm by the fall; then he would shake the ladder, and
the thief, when he reached the ground, would be unable to make his
escape.This idea must have rushed through the man's mind, for he threw
himself head foremost into the room, instead of retreating down the
ladder, as might have been expected. Making straight for the
glittering jewels, he seized the cross and chain, then found himself
struggling in the dark--the draft had extinguished the flame of the
large wax candle on the dressing-table--with a young powerful
athlete.During those few moments of wrestling, he panted these words:"Vivette, I give you my curse! It will stick to you through all
your life as truly as you sit there!"The girl had sunk, exhausted by pain and excitement, upon a low
couch. The moonlight just indicated the outline of her form and bowed
head where she sat.In a moment the ruffian was on his knees, at the mercy of the
younger man, who had rescued Vivette and the casket from his
clutches. But the diamond cross and chain were still in the thief's
pocket."Miss Carruthers," said the voice of Lord Raven, "strike a
light."He gave the command with a shortness that hurt her.He heard the man call her by her Christian name, and he knew that
her associate was a thief. How he must despise her!Whatever this secret was which connected her past with this man whom she called Terrance, it would
all come speedily to light now, and be printed in the papers before
many days were over. There were reasons, Vivette knew, that would make
these revelations dangerous for her, and yet it was quite true that
she had led a life that the strictest moralist could not
criticize.There was not a prouder girl, in the correct sense of the word,
than Vivette. Still she knew that the robber could, if he liked, cover
her with shame and reproach from that night forth, if he chose, and
that only by speaking the truth.All this time the arm which the ruffian had grasped, throbbed with
intense pain which she suffered without wincing or uttering a
sound."Miss Carruthers," said Lord Raven, speaking in a more commanding
voice than he had used before, "strike a light!"His hands were well employed in holding down the ruffian, who was
on his knees."If you do, Vivette," the man said, "you shall die within this
year, I swear it!"Somehow the words, and the vulgar threat they conveyed, had all the
grim meaning of a prophecy for Vivette.She was giddy from pain, fear, and excitement, and sick at heart,
and these may be sufficient reasons for the thrill of horror that went
through her whole frame when Terrance threatened her with death.The fact remained, however, the same. Vivette felt certain, when
she arose and stretched out her hand and struck the light, that she
would die."Shut the window," said Lord Raven, in the same grim fashion.And Vivette shut the window."Now," said Lord Raven, "will you ring the alarm-bell on the landing
as hard as you can? You know where the rope hangs."Vivette paused."Wait one moment," she faltered; "he has hurt my arm so, I feel
sick and faint."And she sank down on a couch near which she stood. Lord Raven
shouted at the very pitch of his lungs "Help! Some one come here!"But the corridors at Cotswold were wide and long, and the
dressing-room of the countess lay far from those parts of the house
where people were assembled. The loud shouts of the young lord died
away in the corridors and met with no response. Vivette lay
half-conscious on the couch, dimly aware of her pain, but unable for
the time to stir hand or foot to help the man she loved, or the man
she hated. She hated and despised the man Terrance quite as much as
she loved and reverenced the young lord with the keen, wise, gray
eyes, and the varying smile.It is certain that Vivette heartily wished the thief could escape
without the jewels which he still held in his possession, without
injuring Lord Raven. The struggle between the two men began again and
she could not help. There was a closet at the farther end of the
room. Lord Raven suddenly thought of it. There was a strong bolt on
the outside, and Lord Raven managed to thrust Terrance inside, turn
the lock, and shoot the bolt into its place. The ruffian kicked the
door and demanded to be released.CHAPTER
XX.VIVETTE ATTEMPTS SUICIDE.Lord Raven passed his hand across his face and looked at
Vivette. She was really badly hurt and suffering more than if she had
relapsed into unconsciousness. He flew to the silver pitcher filled
with water, and poured some into a glass, then sprinkled some on the
white face of Vivette.She started up and shuddered, then opened her beautiful eyes, which
met his in a mixture of pain and happiness. The sight of Lord Raven's
face above her was rapture to Vivette."Miss Carruthers, compose yourself, and I will send one of the
servants. You must have some wine."He took her hands and the girl shuddered and moaned, "It is agony,"
she said. "I think he dislocated my arm.""The ruffian! And you were very brave if you were trying to save my
mother's jewels. Yes, you deserve a medal."His voice was kind and gentle now, but then Vivette said to herself
that the kindness and the sweetness were only compassion for her
physical pain. She bit her lip, she looked up entreatingly into his
face."Where is--" she began."He is safe. Your acquaintance will have to answer for his
attempted crime before a judge, and he will most likely end his days
in prison, so that he can no longer pursue you with his threats. Would
you not be glad if he were
shut up where he could never trouble you again?""Oh, yes! how glad, but, Lord Raven, he, in revenge, will tell a
great he about me.""Will he?" Lord Raven spoke coolly. Then he added, "After all,
lies, you know, fall to the ground. Now lie still; I am going for
help. That man must be bound hand and foot and locked up, while we
telegraph to Malvern for police and a prisoner's van. He is a
desperate character." Then Lord Raven left the room."Vivette, open the door! Let me out, I command you!""It is impossible. I shall be turned out of the house as your
accomplice. You must know that.""You will be turned out when I tell them what I have to tell about
you!""Who will believe you?" the girl said quickly. "You have no proofs,
and you will be an idiot, for if I remain and inherit a fortune and
marry a lord--" she spoke the last words faintly to herself, and the
man did not hear them.He thundered at the door."Promise me," he said, "that you will help me to escape, if not
now, during the night.""I promise," she said, and the next moment she heard voices and
shootings. Lord Raven reentered the room, accompanied by four stout
men. They had with them a coil of strong rope, and Vivette turned away
her head and shuddered."You must go in there," said Lord Raven, opening the door of Lady
Riverswood's chamber. He lifted Vivette almost in his arms, and made
her sit in a luxurious chair. "Now, I will come again when this
disagreeable work is over,"
he said. "Don't be alarmed at any howling the fellow makes, only tell
me, is he dear to you? Was he ever so?""Once," said Vivette dreamily; "but it is so long ago that it is
like a fairy-tale I have half-forgotten. At the time I thought him a
hero, but lately I have suspected him. But believe this," and she
caught the aristocratic hand of Lord Raven passionately between her
own, "I never knew until to-night that he was so wicked and vile, and
I have saved the jewels, have I not?""Yes," Raven said moodily, "yes." Then he went out of the room and
shut the door, and Vivette was left alone in the
darkness.The man Terrance was the same man who had sat in the little parlor
at Rosalind Cottage before the table covered by the green-and-red
cloth. The same man who had been lurking among the trees that wintry
afternoon which preceded this eventful night, the man whom Vivette had
told Lord Raven she had been affianced to without her own consent by
her reckless father. Vivette had just paid twenty pounds of Lord
Raven's money to him as a bribe to leave her in peace for the space of
six months, and it was he who was now a prisoner in the hands of Lord
Raven and his servants. Vivette knew this.There was but little noise in the next room, for Terrance
understood how useless it would be to struggle against five men,
therefore he did not exert his strength. He appreciated the value of
it too well to waste an atom of it, and he submitted with a sullen
doggedness, to be dragged down the wide staircase, from there to the
back offices, and so
outside to the stable-yard. He was then pushed into the coach-house,
and the key was turned upon him.There was nothing very strong in the lock of the
stable-door. Almost any man of ordinary strength and determination
might have forced it with no other tool than a large rusty nail or
piece of old iron, and doubtless such things were to be found on the
floor of that coach-house. But then it must be borne in mind that Lord
Raven and his men had taken the precaution to bind the ruffian with
strong ropes, that unless he were gifted with extraordinary powers it
would have been impossible for him to extricate himself.Vivette thought of this as she sat sobbing in the chair in Lady
Ravenswood's chamber. Her face was buried in her handkerchief and she
was crying now as if her heart would break."It is horrible. Oh! I can't bear it! To think of his being
handcuffed and standing in the dock. With his insolence and his great
opinion of himself, how will he bear it! I should be glad, if he were
dead, for his life is but one record of evil and selfishness, and now
he has begun to add those crimes against the law which the world
scorns more utterly than those other vices which only wreck the lives
linked with the wrongdoer's. So my cheeks must burn with shame, for he
hates me now as the cause of his misfortune. If it had not been for me
he would have been now safe on his way toward Paris with five thousand
pounds' worth of diamonds fastened under his coat, Oh! it is more than
he can bear, and when he speaks in his spite, as he will speak, and
tells the truth, will he be believed?"She paused a moment in her wild rocking to and fro, to ask herself that question. At length
she decided that inevitably, whatever the secret was that linked her
lot in some degree with that of Terrance, that secret would be
published to the world. Likely it would be believed in by those whom
she wished to conciliate, if he were once sent for trial."My Uncle Carruthers will, in that case, turn me adrift," she said
to herself aloud, with a bitter laugh. "Oh, I can never stay here to
face that possibility. I will go out in the morning, at the first
gleam of daylight, and drown myself in the pond below the fir
plantation. That will solve the problem for me. As women go, I would
not exchange my intellectual or spiritual nature for any one. I have
been reared in a rough school. I don't think, since my mother died, I
have ever had anybody to point out to me the difference between right
and wrong, but her feeble teachings all pointed out my line. Honestly
tell the truth and remember you have good blood in your
veins. Remember that you are by birth a lady, though your poor little
shoes have holes in them, and you have only one dress, and no winter
cloak."Poor mother, why do I think so much of her to-night? She was,
after all, weak, and loved, and served her unworthy husband to the
end. Selfish, too, in her inordinate love for a thankless wretch" and
Vivette stamped her feet furiously against the floor, but the thick
pile of the carpet deadened the sound."I will drown myself in the morning," she said to herself after a
pause, "for the only human being for whom I care will hold me in
abhorrence when he hears the truth. Yet I am as good, twenty times
better, than the perfect heiress, my cousin.""Place her, with her vain, selfish nature where I have been placed in my life, and
surround her with poverty and all the mean shifts which it
entails. Would she have been able to look back along her past as I can
look back along mine, and say as I can, 'I have lived a life which no
girl, however highly placed, need blush to have led!'"Until I met Lord Raven, I have lived as a nun might live, never
even suffering the thought of love to enter my heart. I have, in
general, spoken the truth, and I have not forgotten that I have good
blood in my veins. I have not been idle and I wish I could work
now. Why should I not, instead of seeking death in that pond in the
morning? But I love Lord Raven, and the moment that he despises me I
shall go mad. I am sure it is better to die."In this passionate way Vivette reasoned, or rather raved within
herself, when the door opened suddenly, and there appeared lights,
ladies and servants on the scene.First the countess, in her shining robes; kind, stout Aunt
Carruthers, and Elaine, stately and calm with a rather severe look in
her light-blue eyes.For perhaps the first time in her life the banker's heiress felt
that she was a little overlooked, not quite the queen of the
situation, which was the normal condition under which she lived.Everybody, even the countess, Elaine's future mother-in-law, seemed
to have "run mad," so the heiress thought, about her cousin
Vivette."Brave, courageous girl, and she might have been murdered herself,"
said Lady Emily Taylor, the mother of Vivette's pupils. "To think, my
dear, heroic girl, of your saving all my mother's jewels! We should
never have recovered
them. I, for one, am grateful to you forever!" said Lady Emily, who
had a passion for diamonds."She is, indeed, brave!" said the countess. "I only wish that
lessons of courage were earlier instilled into the minds and hearts of
children.""My dear, I am afraid that you are hurt; you look ill," said stout
Aunt Carruthers kindly."Miss Carruthers must have some wine," said the gracious countess,
"and sit before a good fire in her own dressing-room. When she is
thoroughly warmed, she must go to bed.""For my part," said Elaine, "I do not so much admire physical
courage in a woman as a quality. It always gives me an idea of a
masculine woman. Still, in this case it was fortunate that Vivette was
not too delicately organized, either physically or mentally. She is a
sort of Amazon in courage and daring!""She is a very, very good and brave girl!" said a voice in the
anteroom, "and I am proud, indeed, to own her for my niece."It was Uncle Carruthers who spoke, the little man with the keen,
young-looking face, and iron-gray hair. He had ventured to follow the
ladies up-stairs, in company with the gouty earl, who cried out, in
husky tones:"Well done my dear Miss Carruthers! You are, indeed, a brave
girl!"Vivette was not insensible to a feeling of triumph when she heard
all this praise. But there was a bitter voice in her heart, which told
her that, before to-morrow night, all these kind people would be
execrating her name."And that cousin of mine is beginning to hate me already," she said
to herself. "Is it because instinct whispers to her that he cares a
little, just a little, for me? But it is all over. I cannot face my life after to-morrow!
I will go down to the pond and drown myself, but first I have one
request to make of Lord Raven."Vivette was very impetuous and cherished feelings of envy, hatred,
and uncharitableness toward people whom in her impassioned,
undisciplined heart she regarded as tyrants and shams. She was not
gentle, or patient, and what was this secret which linked her past,
present, and even future with the ruffian who had tried to steal Lady
Riverswood's diamonds? For feeling that the thief has it in his power
to tell Lord Raven something which will have the effect of making that
young nobleman despise her, she is weak enough to tell herself that
she would rather die than bear the shame that would be poured upon
her."Is it like a 'heroine,' as they called me, to be standing here
when I am supposed to be in bed? 'The clock in the castle at length
sounded one,'" said Vivette, quoting from an old song, for the great
clock in the stable-yard had first chimed, and then came that dull
sound, which fell like a knell on the stillness of the night.It was a bleak, bitter night; seldom is damp, dark November so
cruelly cold as it was that year. The north wind blew and morsels of
snow came swirling down few and far between. The moon rode high on
mountain ridges of cloud.Vivette stood in the castle-yard. She knew that Lord Raven's
smoking and billiard-room looked into this yard, and she knew that the
young noble, invalid though he was, had said that he should go in
there to read that night. The idea had struck her that she would steal
upon him in his solitude, and ask him to set that dreadful Terrance
free for her sake, but now she hesitated."It would be quite unwomanly," she said, "and I never did act in
that fashion in my life, except, perhaps, when I said he might come to
tea at Rosalind Cottage and he never came," she sighed. "No, I will
die! One can but die once!"She wore a hood of black velvet, and she had wrapped herself in a
large gray shawl. She crossed the park, and made her way swiftly
toward the fir plantation and the deep pond."I wonder if it is freezing," she said aloud, when she reached the
brink of the lonely water. There was not the sound of a fox or a
squirrel among the trees."Oh, how cold it is! And once in the water there is no help near
even if I cry and struggle! May not life hold something for me! I am
young, strong, and warm, but in the morning I shall be dead, and when
he hears that tale, I could not--could not look on his face. Its scorn
would be more cruel than this icy water."The rash girl made three steps toward the water, then paused."It looks so cold!" she said, then she heard a step among the
bushes, and, turning, saw Lord Raven.CHAPTER
XXI.LORD RAVEN'S SECRET.His greeting was not loverlike. He started back a step or two, and
then said coldly:"Have you taken leave of your senses, Miss Carruthers?"Her answer was quick and impulsive, like her nature. She pointed to
the freezing pond, and she said sharply:"I was thinking of jumping into that water. Do you disapprove of
such a proceeding, my lord?""Half-past one o'clock on a November morning, when the wind is
northeast, the snow sprinkles the ground, and the pond is freezing, is
not the hour, the place, or the season for a cold bath. I really
thought the fright had brought on brain fever. Besides, that pond is
dangerously deep. If you had plunged in, you would inevitably have
sunk, and it is by the merest chance that I am here. I might have
saved you, perhaps, as I am a capital swimmer. But, on the other hand,
the night is so cold that I should most likely have been seized with
cramp, in which case I should have been drowned myself.""You would have been a loss, Lord Raven," said the girl
bitterly."Yes, I should have been insured by my parents, doubtless," the
young lord said, with a quick sigh, "but I don't feel disposed to give
up the game of life just yet, at twenty-three, with all the world
before me."He paused, then said suddenly:"What, in the name of folly, brought you here, Miss
Carruthers?""To take a cold bath," she answered, with a mocking laugh."Then you must be mad, simply mad," said Lord Raven quietly."Yes, my lord, mad, but not simply mad. Mad in a puzzling,
perplexing, and inscrutable fashion. Mad with a touch of method in my
madness. Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, went mad, did he not? And he
walked about like a strange, wild figure of despair, and nobody could
have called his royal highness simply mad. His madness was a species
of metaphysical and psychological problem which has hardly been solved
to this day. I am no more simply mad, my lord, than he was!""Then you are, if you like, metaphysically mad, Miss Carruthers. In
any case, I must request you to accompany me to the house, where I
shall give you in charge to some of the maids. I shall tell them you
are ill, and they are not to lose sight of you. In the morning I will
ride myself into Moorcup and see the doctor, and bring him back with
me here.""Thank you," said Vivette, with a mocking laugh. "How considerate
you are! Do you know that, after all, I think I prefer the pond, cold
as it is, to facing the world in the morning?"And she made a step toward it as she spoke.Lord Raven sprang forward, and held her in his strong arms."Miss Carruthers, come to the house," he said sternly. She suffered
him to draw her arm through his, and to lead her toward Cotswold
Castle."Miss Carruthers," said Lord Raven, after a pause, for she was
resolved not to speak first, or give any reason for her strange
conduct, unless he seemed anxious to hear one--"Miss Carruthers, you
are very foolish!""Am I?" with a little, mocking laugh."You know you are. I really believe you contemplated drowning
yourself in the pond."Vivette was silent."Did you or did you not?" asked Lord Raven."I don't know at all whether I intended it or not," she
answered. "I went down there, it is true, telling myself that my life
was not worth living; but when I felt the cold, and saw the water, I
shuddered and hesitated. I think most likely it would have ended in my
walking back quietly to the house, and postponing the day of my death
to a more convenient season. I don't know positively what I should
have done. I fancy, perhaps, if it had been a sultry August night, and
I had been oppressed with heat as well as sorrow, I should have
plunged in and drowned myself comfortably.""No," said Lord Raven, "I don't think you would, after all. You are
too full of life and vigor, and your mind is strong, though your
temper is violent. Your nervous system is too highly strung, and you
have seen too little of life to seek death recklessly at twenty-one
years old. You have too much common sense, and you anticipate too much
from the future, to commit suicide."I tell you I was afraid of the cold water," said Vivette. "Don't
attribute any higher motives to me." She was bitterly annoyed that he
should so coolly tell her that she had a violent temper. "I have not
made the least impression on his heart," she said to herself. "It
must have frozen up and become
fossilized since Lola Lomond jilted him.""Yes, you shrank from the idea of the cold plunge on such a night
as this," said Lord Raven kindly. "Any sensible person would, but
there were higher and better reasons for your choosing to live, not to
die. Still, tell me, if you will, why you are so horribly unhappy. Is
it about this man? Do you care for him so much that you dread his
being punished?""I despise him! I hate him!" said Vivette; "but, oh! I don't want
him punished. He will tell lies, so that my Uncle Carruthers will
perhaps believe him, and will turn me away from his family. You must
know that he has promised me a cheerful, luxurious home, and all my
life, Lord Raven, I have trembled and shrunk from poverty. How I hate
it!"She shuddered as she spoke.Lord Raven could feel how desperately she was shivering, for she
clung closely to his arm."Don't excite yourself," he said, in a grave voice. "I have every
wish, Miss Carruthers, to make you happy as far as it lies in my
power. But what can this man have to say about you that you are so
much afraid should be heard? Perhaps you exaggerate some little piece
of indiscretion into a crime. I have some faith in you, Vivette. I
don't think you have been guilty of anything of which you need be
ashamed.""Not once in all my life! I have been the most prudent girl,
considering, too, what a life of makeshifts, and hardships, and
humiliations mine has been. Your life, Lord Raven, nurtured in comfort
and luxury, and surrounded from your childhood with all that is
beautiful and refined, your
life, compared to mine, has been as a glorious summer day compared to
a night like this!""Yes, certainly, the outside of my life is brilliant, as compared
to yours, but life is not all trappings and adornments. However, don't
talk of me, please. I want to know what on earth this man, whom our
fellows have locked into the coach-house, can possibly have to say
against you?""Not against me," said the trembling Vivette; "against my
father. So that I am positive my uncle will turn me away when he hears
it!""Then your uncle must be a very unjust man, Miss Carruthers. Why,
suppose that your father had been hanged, even that would not have
been your fault. But I see how it is. I conjecture that your father
was a dissipated and even unprincipled man, and this man Terrance will
expose some painful family secrets to spite you. Well, you are
sensitive. I will set the fellow at liberty on certain
conditions. Don't ask what they are. In the morning the prisoner will
be missed. Nobody will know how to account for his escape. As for you,
you must promise to make no disturbance, and not to show in any way
that his escape concerns yourself. You have saved the family
jewels."Be as calm and dignified as you know how to be, and take no notice
of the excitement attendant upon that rascal's escape. He won't be
quite so free, perhaps, as people will imagine; in fact, I mean to
contrive to ship him off in an emigrant-ship bound for Canada. I shall
give him money and a chance of improving his fortunes abroad, but he
has transgressed the law, and I am determined he shall not again
persecute you or levy blackmail on you.""He will tell you what he has to tell," said Vivette. "If he does,
it will be a secret locked within my own breast," said Lord Raven."Only, if he tells any monstrous and unlikely tales, you--you will
not believe him?" asked Vivette."No, not any monstrous and unlikely tales," responded Lord
Raven. "But now, Miss Carruthers, here we are at the courtyard. I must
go to the billiard-room, and I would make you come and sit by my fire,
and have some wine to warm you, but what would be said of us both if
you did? Besides, we must abstain from the appearance of evil. Have
you the key of the side corridor which leads up the back stairs to the
third floor?""Yes," said Vivette."Good night, then," said Lord Raven, when she had turned the key in
the lock and had entered the dimly lighted passage. "Good night."He clasped her hand for a moment, and then left her.Vivette crept stealthily to her room, quite unobserved. All the
inmates of the castle were sleeping soundly. There was still a fire
glowing red in the low grate. She threw off her cloak, knelt down, and
stirred the coals into a ruddier blaze, and tears gathered slowly in
her eyes."It is all over!" she said. "He will tell him the secret, and
Raven, who is the soul of honor, will keep it; but whenever I see him
after to-night I shall feel that his penetrating eyes are on me, and
that, if he does not quite believe the tale, he has his
suspicions. Yet courage! He takes quite a deep interest in me. Fancy
his seeing me cross the courtyard at that unseemly hour, and following
me! How late he must sit up himself! What a strange, contradictory,
but always noble, character he is! His faults are surface ones, his
virtues, belong to his own elevated soul. Oh, Raven, Raven, would to Heaven I were worthy
of you!"A tempest of sobs shook the youthful figure, and then at length she
knelt and lifted up her tempestuous heart in the first earnest prayer
she had prayed since they had laid her mother to rest in the
grass-grown graveyard near that quaint town in far-off
Germany.CHAPTER
XXII.THE CONTEMPLATED MARRIAGE.Several weeks had elapsed since the attempted robbery of the jewels
of the countess. The thief, though bound hand and foot, and locked up
in the coach-house, had escaped in what seemed a miraculous
fashion. People in the neighborhood were inclined to think that the
man must have had confederates among the servants at the lordly
castle, but my lord and my lady had the very greatest confidence in
their servants. Nearly the whole staff of domestics had lived with
them for many years. It was supposed that the robber's associates in
crime had cone and liberated him in the night. It was a nine days'
wonder, and then conjectures and interest all died out.Vivette now found herself placed quite on the footing of a daughter
by her Uncle and Aunt Carruthers. Instead of sixty pounds a year, she
was to have one hundred wherewith to dress herself. She was to be
useful companion to Elaine; but her duties were to be light, and such
as her energy would discharge in a couple of hours. The countess was
most gracious to her in her own haughty fashion, but she made her
feel, without saying one unkind word, that she quite regarded her as
the poor cousin of the wealthy Carruthers, and never would regard her
as the equal of Elaine. Still, she was positively amiable toward the
governess. She told her to discontinue the daily lessons, and to busy
herself with preparations for her departure with her uncle and
aunt.Meanwhile, had Lord Raven spoken the irrevocable words to Elaine Carruthers? Were they
engaged? The dependents at the castle, with Miss Sparks at their head,
all thought that the young lord had proposed and been accepted by the
fair-haired young lady with aquiline nose and pale-blue eyes.Vivette watched her, talked with her, and wondered, but was not
able at all to arrive at the truth. Lord Raven was attentive and
studiously polite to Miss Carruthers as his mother's guest. What he
thought of her, and if he was falling in love with her, or if, without
falling in love with her, he had made up his mind to take the final
plunge into matrimony and wed the heiress, whose huge fortune was to
pay off the mortgage on Cotswold, not a soul in the castle, from the
earl to the lowest stable-boy, could tell."Only she knows and he knows," said Vivette, to herself. "They are
talking to each other now. I only wish that I could hear what they are
saying!"Of late Vivette had been invited to dine with the earl and his
guests every day.Dinner was over, and, the whole party had adjourned to that very
elegant room where Vivette had partaken of that dainty lunch, and had
afterward given a meal to poor, deceived Margaret Fisher. This
apartment was smaller and snugger than the rest of the reception-rooms
at Cotswold. Since the weather continued bitterly cold, it was decided
that the evenings were to be spent in that charming study up to the
time when the Carruthers family should leave.Vivette wore black, with silver ornaments, and her favorite
flowers, crimson roses, were at her breast. She was engaged in some
fanciful needlework that she said the nuns abroad had taught her. She was making a cover for a
favorite cushion of the countess. She had spent all the money she had
received in dresses. It was her aim, certainly, to appear as
beautiful, as fascinating, and as amiable as possible in the eyes of
Lord Raven. Ever since that night when she had gone out and looked at
the cold pond, and wished herself dead, she had watched Lord Raven
with an unceasing watchfulness and anxiety."What does he know?" she asked herself a dozen times a day, but she
read nothing save kindness in those grave gray eyes, a kindness that
was all too calm to satisfy her ardent, impassioned nature. Still,
there was no aversion, no contempt, such as he might perhaps have
manifested had he really listened to the poisonous words of the man
she called Terrance.Meanwhile, what had become of that man? Once she had ventured to
ask Lord Raven that question, when she was left alone with him for a
moment, and he had answered: "He has gone to Canada, but ask me no
more questions. Forget that man. It is the best advice I can give
you," and he had looked at her, she felt, almost sternly for a
moment. "I wonder how much he knows, and if he knows anything, and if
he knows all?" she said to herself. "But no, he does not know all. He
would not look so kindly at me, I fancy, if he did."For whatever the secret of poor Vivette was, it was an ugly
one. Whether she was in any way to blame, or her dead father alone,
she would almost have died rather than that it should have been
revealed to the world. Now she sat engaged in that fancy lacework
which the countess so much admired and coveted, as great ladies often
do admire and covet like trifles, and she offered, with every show of
a charming humility, to teach her ladyship the intricate pattern, if her ladyship
should be so disposed."I shall be charmed, Miss Vivette," said the now gracious
countess.It had been arranged by the banker and his wife and daughter that
this poor cousin was to be henceforth known as Miss Vivette, so as to
distinguish her from her cousin, the heiress, who, of course, was
always styled Miss Carruthers."I shall be charmed," said the countess, "but I am not so young as
I was, and I must not try my eyes at night. In the morning I shall be
delighted to learn."It was not, after all, a very cheerful party assembled in the
lovely blue room, as enthusiastic Vivette always called that
brilliantly harmonized little apartment in the great castle. There
were natural reasons enough for this. The earl and the countess both
belonged to an old-fashioned, conservative school, and though their
courtesy and hospitality toward the banker's family knew no bounds,
they never themselves felt at home with those who were not quite on
the same elevated plane as themselves. Neither did the banker,
cultivated, polished, and wealthy man of the world as he was, feel at
home with these Norman-descended nobles, whose ancestors had ruled
half of Worcester County in the centuries that were past."It is as if one wore a strait-jacket on one's soul," said Vivette
to herself. "I wonder what those two are talking of? They are going to
play at chess, and I will watch them. Will he propose? Is he falling
ever so little in love? And what of her! Oh, I wish I knew what they
were talking about."But not one word could she catch, though she strained her ears and
listened eagerly."I suppose my cousin Elaine is a pretty woman," Vivette said to
herself after a while, when she had watched the faces of the
chess-players. "They are a graceful couple, and there is more
refinement about that fair wax doll than there is about me. Oh, yes,
she would make a countess, exactly like that one in Dresden china who
stands there on the cabinet, and who is valued, so Miss Sparks says,
at fifty guineas."Certainly Elaine Carruthers was looking her very best that
night.When a woman is only twenty-two, white-and-pink complexioned as
Dresden china, slender, well-bred, and exquisitely attired; when her
features are regular, with aquiline nose, thin lips, well-molded chin,
and white, long throat; when that woman is well satisfied with herself
and her surroundings, and looks as calm as the moon in a summer-night
sky, it would be singular if she did not appear charming.Elaine was frequently called lovely. She had been styled so in
newspaper paragraphs, which gave descriptions of fashionable and
charitable meetings where she had presided. Yet Vivette gave but a
tardy and grudging acknowledgment of her rival's charms.Elaine wore an evening toilet of pale straw-colored satin, trimmed
with rich velvet a shade or two deeper in hue. Some precious lace was
fastened over her slender shoulders and caught with a magnificent
diamond. Her fair hair was gathered into a large knot, worn low at the
back of her head. Yes, she was like a Dresden china doll. How the
sheen of the satin gown glistened in the lamplight, while the gems on
her slight fingers, rubies and diamonds, flashed like fires every time
she moved her, white hands.Lord Raven looked s inscrutable as a statue, so Vivette thought to
herself.Now and then she saw his gray eyes resting on the pink-and-white
face of the heiress, and the color deepened once on the fair
cheek."She is beginning really to love him," said Vivette fiercely; "to
love him! Now will be the tug of war. She will make him marry her,
and, the moment she does, I will go away and die, or marry a hideous
rich man, if one asks me, and then I am sure I should die!"Vivette went on with the dainty lacework, and she smiled over it,
but her white teeth glittered and her black eyes shone. Nobody knew or
guessed what a tempest was raging in her soul."He won't love her, he can't love her! She is too dull, too
soulless! What is the use of wedding a man if you have not his love? A
body without a soul!"Then the door opened, and the powdered footmen carried around light
refreshments. The players were obliged to leave their game, and Lord
Raven moved the table back, then crossed the room and deliberately sat
down by the side of Vivette."How industrious you are!" he said, with a smile. The girl's heart
gave a jump, and then beat so fast that she could hardly breathe."I suppose I shall be obliged always to be industrious, my
lord.""Perhaps so," he answered, "and it might not be the worst thing for
you.""Keep me out of mischief?" asked Vivette."Yes," he said, looking at her with a kind and merry gleam in his
gray eyes."No, he knows nothing that he should not know," the girl said to
herself."Now, you had better take some wine and water," said Lord
Raven. "You look tired. The night is bitterly cold, and the wind is
howling. Ugh! how dull the country is in winter-time!"Then he arose, and went and sat between his mother and Elaine.Had he proposed? Did he mean to propose?Poor Vivette was not the only individual who asked herself that
question so eagerly.The mortgage on the lands of Cotswold was heavier than the outside
world dreamed of. There had been a ruinous speculation some years back
in which the earl had embarked. The result had been a failure and
liabilities to the extent of sixty thousand pounds, and a mortgage for
that amount had been raised upon Cotswold. The interest had always
been regularly paid up, and some part of the mortgage cleared away,
but it was desired that the whole should be got rid of, and that the
heir of Cotswold should inherit his ancient acres free of claim or
tax.So the countess, who was as great a lover of money as she was of
education, was really most anxious that Charles should marry Miss
Elaine Carruthers and her million of money, for that was the banker's
reputed fortune.The banker himself would be well pleased, she knew, to see his
child a countess, as would also the banker's wife."The young lady herself is anything but averse to the match," so
the countess decided, when she had watched the heiress for a day or
two with her lynx eyes.There only remained, then, Lord Raven himself. He held the keys of
his fortune in his own hands. But then, Raven was as obstinate, eccentric, and romantic as he was
honorable, generous, and brave. He was accomplished and full of
whims."Until that boy is married," the countess often said to the earl,
"I never feel sure that he will not marry a housemaid, and Elaine
Carruthers is very nice. After she is married, and with a little
training, she will become chic. I hope he will propose before they
start for London. I wonder if he has proposed?"Mr. Gervase Carruthers was likewise rather anxious about the
matter. The alliance with the family of Riverswood was gratifying to
his natural pride. Besides, he was a great observer of other men, and
he felt that Raven was every inch a man and a gentleman. He would have
welcomed him, therefore, heartily as a son-in-law. Meanwhile, he hated
all uncertainty, and if Lord Raven did not propose soon,
Mr. Carruthers said to himself testily that he would have nothing more
to do with it.As for Lord Raven himself, his politeness and respectful courtesy
toward the heiress was most pleasing. Only it seemed as if he had not
made up his mind yet.That evening Mrs. Carruthers laid her hand on the shoulder of her
daughter as they were together ascending the grand staircase, and
said;"My darling, I want to speak to you. Come into my
dressing-room."Seated before a glorious fire in the exquisitely fitted up
dressing-room appointed for the use of the banker's wife at Cotswold,
Elaine extended her fair, jeweled hands toward the blaze."Elaine, my love," said Mrs. Carruthers, who was a gentle old lady,
"has Lord Raven proposed? Your father wants to know.""No," replied Elaine, with a calm and confident smile, "he has not
yet taken courage. I have not thought proper just yet to encourage him
sufficiently. His anxiety and devotion deserve a reward, but I have
always made up my mind never to yield too soon to any candidate for my
heart and hand whom I may be disposed to accept. There is one quality
in which I shall never fail, womanly dignity."Vivette was in the room, Vivette, whom the self-satisfied heiress
regarded as no more than a refractory girl, a poor cousin, to whom it
was necessary to be kind and compassionate. She had entered the
boudoir, at her aunt's request, to rearrange the trimming of a velvet
dress which had been crushed. She lifted her great dark eyes, and
scanned her cousin's face, and a red flush dyed her dark face."Oh, the conceited creature!" said the uncomplimentary young lady
to herself. "Does she think that Lord Raven lacks courage, or waits to
be encouraged? I believe that, without knowing it, this wax doll is
desperately in love with Lord Raven!"And Vivette was right."I don't think you do wisely to discourage him, my love," said Mama
Carruthers. "You know 'there is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the
lip.'""Proverbs are vulgar, my dear mother," said the heiress
testily. "How can you think that any one would dare to draw back after
my father had consented to entertain the idea of receiving him as a
candidate for my hand? Believe me, that I never once for a single
moment forget who I am."Elaine spoke as if she were the heiress to the English throne. She smiled calmly,
most inexpressibly provoking to Vivette."If that is all you have to say to me, dear mother," continued
Elaine, relenting as she kissed her mother and bade her good night,
"make your mind easy. I have decided to become Lady Raven, and one day
Countess of Riverswood."Soon after this the ladies separated for the night.Christmas eve. The Carruthers have been established at the town
mansion, a palatial house in Belgrave Square, for some days. Vivette
is now virtually one of themselves. Already she is a vast favorite
with her uncle. She has a charming room, and plenty of
pocket-money.Six months ago, when she was starving in a Paris garret, if any one
had told her that the lines would have fallen to her in such pleasant
places, and that still she would have been discontented, she would not
have believed it. But she was most violently uneasy, and she asked
herself night and day one question, whether Lord Raven will marry her
cousin. There seems no answer to the problem.The Raven family were in town also, at the house in Grosvenor
Square. Lord Raven calls three or four times a week, sits alone with
Elaine, talks to her, smiles at Vivette, and goes away without
proposing."I have not yet given him encouragement," says Elaine, with her
lofty smile; "when I do, he will be on his knees, of course."There is to be a party to-night at the banker's. Such great
families as remain in town have had cards of invitation, and the house
is a blaze of flowers and lights.Vivette, dressed in dark, clinging crimson, in which she looks like
a queen, is not in the drawing-room with the rest. She is in a small,
warm room, in which there is no light save that of the fire, and she
is looking eagerly into the snowy street. Presently she beckons to
some one.CHAPTER
XXIII.THE BEGGAR-GIRL.Vivette was acting entirely on impulse when she stood behind the
thick silken curtains in that little elegant room called the study,
and beckoned to the forlorn figure in the street. Many wise persons
would have called it a mad impulse. In after years Vivette was
accustomed to say that she must have been impelled to act so oddly by
some blind yet unerring instinct, which guided her.In her rich costume, she looked what she was, a young lady of the
English world of fashion. Guests were arriving every moment, guests
gay and glittering in the garments which wealth and skill had provided
and manufactured. Guests fashionable, elegant, some of them titled and
distinguished.The carriages of these great folks lined the square, and policemen
stood near the steps to keep away the pushing crowd who thronged the
pavement, eager to catch a passing glimpse of fairy-land and the
fairies, the many-colored silks, the gleaming jewels, the fair and
beautiful faces of some of the ladies as they stepped from their
carriages, assisted by their footmen in powder and plush. The open
door of the banker's great mansion afforded glimpses of marble floor,
crimson velvet curtains, great precious vases, in which bloomed
glorious hothouse flowers, and the vision of a brilliant fire gleaming
in a low grate, polished like silver, and a Persian carpet in the
center of the white expanse of paved hall floor. All these must have
seemed like a dream to many of the cold, ragged, and hungry people who stood in the frost and
bitter wind of that winter night to watch the arrival of the rich
man's guests, and look with longing wonder into the great man's
house.And it was one of these miserable ones to whom Miss Carruthers
beckoned. She was a girl of about her own age, who was standing under
the lamp, and watching the gay guests pouring into the great
mansion.The misery of the girl's pale face was striking, and she was
wretchedly attired. The pathos attached to rags is not always a
picturesque one. There are stages of raggedness, and this girl looked
forlorn and desolate as a sparrow alone upon a housetop.She wore an old hat, a thin coat, and a skirt which clung close to
her slender limbs."I should like to see her shoes," said Vivette, to herself. "I
wonder if she has any on. I fancy she has just such horrible old shoes
as I myself wore during one terrible winter in Brussels!"She shivered at the recollection."Heaven help the poor!"She spoke the words aloud. There was nobody to hear her, for she
was alone in Mr. Carruthers' study. There was no fire in the grate,
yet the room was warm, for it was supplied with hot-air pipes.Vivette beckoned again to the girl. She was surprised that the
individual in question did not obey the summons, until she remembered
that she herself was in darkness, and therefore could not be seen."How am I to get to her?" Vivette asked herself. "There is
something in that girl's attitude and wistful eyes which reminds me of
myself, of what I was, of what I might have been now! I have never
been dressed quite like that since I
was thirteen, and that was one winter, when my father was--ah! never
let me think of it!"She covered her face with her hands, and then said aloud:"Shall I ever stand again in the streets of a large town, and
shiver in rags like those? I--I--Vivette, who am almost an heiress,
and hope to be a countess, dare to hope it, in spite of the insipid,
conceited doll up-stairs! How am I to make that girl understand that I
long to help her? She reminds me so of my past self. Oh, girl, you
must not, shall not go until I have given you money and clothes, and
asked you what makes your face so sad. You don't look stupid, either,
from this distance! Yet most likely you are, and when you speak you
will have that drawl that I hate, and you will drop your h's, and
murder the English tongue. Yet there is something so wistful in your
look. Oh, she is going away!"Vivette tapped at the window loudly. This had the effect of making
the policeman imagine that some of the people in the lordly dwelling
were displeased that the lower class should presume to cluster about
the doorsteps of the great house, and stare open-mouthed at the
bejeweled beauties and gallant gentlemen who passed from the carriages
into the lighted hall. Consequently, the policemen began to scold and
drive away some boys and women and slouching, half-savage-looking men,
who were watching the house.Vivette threw open the window, and put her head out."No, no! don't drive them away! It's that girl, the one who stood
under the lamp! I want her. Call her, there she goes! I have something
for her!"Immediately the policeman hastened after the retreating figure, and
Vivette lost sight of both in the shadows of the night."I wonder if he will find her, and if she will come. She may be
afraid. I would go after her myself if the hall were not so thronged
with guests."But Miss Carruthers had no need for such impatience. Soon she saw
the burly policeman returning, and the girl walking slowly by his
side."Here she comes, then!" said Vivette; "and she will be stupid and
commonplace, after all. Not the least like I was when I was dressed
like that and was hungry. I could chatter in French like a magpie, and
sing. I could dance like a fairy when I was thirteen and wore rags,
but I had a clever father, and I had good blood in my veins. Here she
comes, as commonplace and vulgar, no doubt, as poor Margaret Fisher,
married to goodness knows who, and calling her poor, little, dirty
baby 'the Honorable Miss Raven!' " Vivette advanced boldly, and with a
smiling face, into the lighted hall.She looked very beautiful in her sweeping gown. A bracelet on her
round arm was a gift from Uncle Carruthers. There was color on her
usually pale cheeks, and her great, beautiful eyes, which looked so
good at times, so full of gloom and evil at other times, flashed upon
the pale, pinched face of the girl in miserable clothing."Come in," she said, with a gracious, condescending smile. "I want
to speak to you."She bowed to the advancing guests, who were thronging up the wide,
grand staircase toward the drawing-rooms. She knew none of them. Then,
having put some silver into the hand of the policeman, who looked
in astonishment on the whole
eccentric proceeding, and would fain have made inquiries of the
solemn, powdered footmen, Vivette led her new protegée into the
study, closed the door, lighted the gas, and drew down the blind, then
looked into the dazzled eyes of the girl in rags."I saw you standing under the lamp, and I took pity on you. You
looked so forlorn and so cold.""It is seldom," said a sweet voice, "that the world pities the
wretched so quickly. But then, wretchedness is such a common element
in these London streets, and there are so many whose trade it is to
wear rags, and sit or stand at the corners of the houses or on
door-steps. Perhaps you, young lady, are not hardened yet to London
life?"Vivette was astonished. The girl's language was good, her h's well
aspirated, her accent the accent of a lady, and her voice was
singularly sweet."I--I will not claim for myself tenderer or more compassionate
feelings than of right belong to me," Miss Carruthers said
hastily. "There were other unhappy-looking people in the street whom I
did not pity as I pitied you. But you, you reminded me of a
friend."She could not say you reminded me of myself. The girl said nothing,
but looked down at the rich carpet of gold and dark-gray.Vivette saw that her face was a refined one, with delicate yet
rather pronounced features, and a pale skin that health and happiness
would render radiant with a creamy fairness. The aquiline nose and
delicate chin reminded her of some one, but she could not tell
whom. The girl's hair was brown and smoothly brushed, and her wretched
hat had fallen back."Yes, if she were dressed with white lace about that slender
throat, she might be introduced up-stairs, and men would look at her
and call her pretty. I can imagine, too, that when she is animated she
would be sparkling, and could be charming. Who on earth is she, and
what has reduced her to this condition?" The idea that the well-spoken
girl might be an impostor never entered the head of Miss
Carruthers."I wish to help you," said Vivette awkwardly. "Will you tell me
what I can do for you, and if you really stand as much in need of help
as you appear to?""I am starving!" said the girl, with a little hysterical laugh. "I
have not tasted food since early this morning, then it was a cup of
weak tea and a slice of dry bread. But, young lady, I am accustomed to
being hungry by this time, and I ought to be more patient than I
am. Less envious of the rich and the happy. Less--""No, you ought not," Vivette said, stamping her foot in indignant
wrath and rebellion against the ruling proprieties of the world, which
in her hot, suffering, impatient youth she had learned to hate with a
fierce hatred. "No, you ought not. You should be impatient,
rebellious, against what is evil. I, too, hate the world." She paused,
checked herself, then said: "Tell me who you are, and what has reduced
you to this poverty and sorrow?""I am the daughter of a poor, struggling artist, an unsuccessful
musician. He is proud as Lucifer, and poor as Job. He now lies ill,
dangerously ill, in a garret in the top story of a house in one of
those dingy streets. Some time ago he met with an accident, was thrown
on his head, and lay ill of fever for weeks. He recovered, and we came
to England. This happened abroad, and he had an idea that he might obtain pupils in London, and
so support himself and me, while he was writing an opera that was to
take the world by storm. Instead of that, he became ill a second
time. We have not a friend nor an acquaintance in all this great
city. My father gave me this watch to sell, and then his best coat. I
then pledged all my clothes, a few at a time. I have a profession,
that is, I love oil-painting, and had a few of my pictures with me. I
sold them all for two pounds, to a dealer. Now I cannot work any more,
for I have nothing with which to buy colors or canvas. I came out
to-night for the first tine in my life to beg, because I want fire and
food for my dying father, but I have not begged yet.""Is your father a good father" asked Vivette, with a frown that was
almost a scowl.The girl smiled."As the world reckons, he is not good," she answered. "He has been
wild and headstrong all his life, "extravagant and fond of pleasure;
but oh! I love him with all my heart!""Then he is a good father," said Vivette. "I know a father who was
hateful, and his daughter hated him. That was my friend of whom you so
much reminded me as you stood under the lamp-post. Tell me your name,
will you?""Christine Ellwyn.""Spell it, please," said Vivette, taking out a pocketbook and gold
pencil. "Are there two l's in your name?""Yes," said Christine."And the address?" continued Vivette, looking with keen yet
compassionate eyes at the face of the starving girl. "The address in
the dingy street.""It is called Percival Street," replied Christine, "and our number
is seventeen."Vivette wrote it all down, then she closed the book, put the pencil
in it, and concealed both in her dress. "Now you shall have some
food," she said. "You must eat and drink before you leave this room,
and I will give you a bottle of wine for your sick father, and a
sovereign. To-morrow or the next day I will call.""You are too trusting, young lady," said Christine, and she raised
a pair of bright, brown, penetrating eyes and fixed them on
Vivette. "If, when you come to No. 17 Percival Street, you find there
is nobody there of the name of Ellwyn, you will vow that in future you
will never again trust a girl with a pale face and plausible
tale. Don't give me a sovereign to-night, only some bread and wine for
my father, and accept the grateful thanks of a suffering
heart."CHAPTER
XXIV.ELAINE'S PROPOSAL."No, you shall have the sovereign," Vivette answered. "If you are
an impostor, you will have taught me a lesson worth learning. I will
never again rely on my own impressions and instincts in reading human
faces and interpreting human voices. I will henceforth believe that
there is not a better girl or woman than myself under the sun, and
very few half so good. As for pale, refined faces, and thoughtful,
honest eyes, I will laugh them all to scorn for all time. But if I
find that you are what you seem to be, then it may have a better
effect on my disposition than you can possibly think. Take that."
Vivette laid the sovereign upon the table.Christine hesitated."Poverty is a tyrant," she said, with a half-sob. "It makes one do
terrible things. If you would give me, instead, five shillings!""No," Vivette answered, "I will give the sovereign. And now I will
see you eat some cold roast fowl and drink some wine. Sit down." She
pointed to a chair and left the room.She soon returned, herself carrying a tray on which was a cloth, a
cold roast fowl, some dainty rolls, a glass, and a decanter filled
with port."Eat, drink, and be merry," said Vivette laughingly as she placed
the tray before Christine Ellwyn. "There is a knife and a
fork."Christine's bright brown eyes shone at the sight of the food. She
began to carve the fowl.Vivette watched her eat. She had refined manners, and she was very
hungry, starving, in fact, but she did not devour her food in unseemly
haste. At length she poured herself out a glass of the wine. Before
drinking she bent her head to Miss Carruthers."I have told you my name and history, young lady," she said. "I
will venture to ask your name.""Carruthers," Vivette answered quickly.The girl started, and looked up, surprised, into the dark face of
Vivette."The daughter of the great banker who is so enormously rich, and
gives this great ball?" she asked. "How stupid of me not to guess
that, and yet I had heard that the great heiress was fair and had cold
manners. I supposed that gossip was true, and you I fancied to be some
generous lady visiting in the house, some one who knew more of the
world than the heiress, whom I judged to be narrow, conventional, and
an egotist. How falsely the world talks!""How truly in this instance!" said Vivette to herself. But she
obeyed another instinct in concealing the true relation in which she
stood to the banker's family from this stranger. "Let her suppose me
to be whom she likes, it does not matter. I mean to be very good to
this peculiar girl," said Vivette to herself. "The world is always
talking scandal," she said aloud, "and we won't waste our time in
repeating its foolish sayings. I shall call on you, and find some way
of getting you employment. You must tell me what you can do, and what
you would like to do.""I like only painting," Christine said; "but I would do anything to
earn an honest livelihood.""You would not consent to be a kitchen-maid, I suppose?" Vivette
cried, with a good-natured laugh. "Your hands are the white, shapely
hands of a lady."Christine shook her head sadly."If I could cook, or sew, or scrub, I would become a servant
cheerfully. "It is more honorable, as you must know, than starving in
the streets, hoping that some compassionate person might put a
shilling into one's hand. But I am an idiot at all useful work. I
can't help it. I have tried hard to learn to sew and to cook, and I
have failed. I am more humiliated when I reflect that I am not a
useful, domesticated woman than I am by my poverty itself.""And I," said Vivette, "could serve up an omelet or make any
article of wearing-apparel, male or female, from the robe of a judge
to the shirt of a little shoeblack. I could, but what is the use of
boasting and crowing over you, poor child?" she added, with a
laugh. "No, I won't do that. Drink your wine. Put the rest of the fowl
and bread into this bag, which I have brought for you to carry to your
father. Pour some of that wine into this bottle, also for your father,
and then get away as quickly as you can. If all you say is true, you
will see me at 17 Percival Street very soon. But if I don't find you,
why I shall only laugh at myself, and forget the heroine of the
lamp-post."Christine quietly poured some of the wine into the bottle, and
stuffed the fowl and bread into the bag. Then she said, with a strange
smile:"Even if I am as honest as you hope I am, you may some day regret
that you condescended to notice me, but I shall always, always remember you with gratitude as the
sweetest, frankest, noblest--"The girl's voice broke down, but she repressed a violent
inclination to hysterical weeping, and bent deeply and gracefully to
Vivette, then passed out through the brilliantly lighted hall into the
wintry street.Half an hour afterward Vivette was in the brilliant suite of three
drawing-rooms, whose upholstery and exquisite furniture and cabinets
were much talked about in London society. The banker had presented her
as his niece.This assembly was not a ball, as Christine had supposed. The banker
had engaged opera-singers, and then there was to be an elaborate
supper.Around the fair heiress, who, true to her colors, was attired in
blue satin and white lace, with pearls, are gathered a knot of devoted
male admirers. Elaine lays down the law with her usual composure, and
a humble assent is given to all she says. Vivette had attracted the
attention of a tall, fine man, with very blond mustache and very
prominent blue eyes."I suppose he is a captain in the Guards," Vivette said to
herself.But the gentleman was not a captain in the Guards. He had been
watching Vivette for a long time."The dark girl in red," he called her, to one of his
acquaintances. "Introduce me, please." Then he added: "She is only
talking now to an old lady."The person he asked to introduce him was an old, white-haired
gentleman, who was a junior partner in the great banking-firm of
Carruthers. The old gentleman
crossed the room and introduced Miss Vivette Carruthers to
Mr. Hatton. Mr. Hatton had very restless eyes, and Vivette decided
that, although he was handsome, he had a coarse mouth."I don't think I like you, monsieur," the girl said to herself.And Mr. Hatton said to himself:"What a refreshing change it is to look at the black eyes and
vivacious face of this cousin of my insipid divinity. Nevertheless, I
have made up my mind to marry her, by hook or by crook, and thus
become the third millionaire in England, in spite of his lordship of
Raven. I wish that this black-eyed girl was the heiress! I am fickle
in love-matters, but I think I could be constant to this one for
twelve calendar months."Gravely Mr. Hatton bowed to Miss Vivette, and he looked at her so
strangely with his restless eyes that she blushed faintly, an unusual
thing with Vivette."I hate him," she said to herself. "I think he is odious. I wonder
who he is?""Miss Carruthers," said Mr. Hatton, taking a seat near Vivette, "I
ought to apologize for intruding myself upon your notice, but I am so
closely connected with your uncle in the way of business that I take a
deep interest in your fair cousin." He paused a moment, and looked
sharply at Vivette, to see how the land lay in this particular
direction, and he was shrewd enough to perceive at a glance that
Vivette was not very fond of her cousin Elaine."She is my fair cousin, as you remark," said Vivette, with a
sarcastic smile, "and I am her dark cousin.""Her most divinely charming cousin," said Mr. Hatton, in a low,
passionate voice.Vivette raised her eyebrows and looked at the man scornfully."You form an opinion too quickly, sir," she said, with a little
laugh. "I am really afraid that you will find there is nothing at all
divine about me. I am unamiable to a degree--""And jealous and spiteful, perhaps, against the fair cousin," said
Mr. Hatton, who had as much candor, it seemed, as Vivette herself.Perhaps he divined, by the intuitive cunning of a crafty nature,
that this young lady was only to be mollified and pleased by what was
unusual and extravagant, that the ordinary commonplaces of society
were not to her liking, and that if she condescended to talk to him at
all, it would only be because she acknowledged his intellect, and
believed that he did not wish to flatter or to conciliate her.Vivette laughed and her eyes sparkled."Why should you fancy that?" she said. "I am not jealous or
spiteful, I hope. My cousin is pretty, elegant, and an heiress. I am
rather plain, unamiable, and I am as poor as Job, but not as
patient. Still, I am not jealous of my cousin, I think.""No doubt you love her very much indeed," said Mr. Hatton, with a
smile that showed his white, even teeth."If I love her or hate her matters little to you, I suppose," said
Vivette.Mr. Hatton looked down at his boots. His next remark did not bear
reference to the love between the cousins."We expect a very gay season in London this year," he said.Vivette smiled faintly."I am a nobody in society," she answered. "I am a poor cousin, but
as my uncle is so kind and generous, I shall contrive to enjoy
myself.""You might become the rage, with a little scheming," said
Mr. Hatton. "Would you like to see your portraits in the shop-windows,
and to be mobbed in the park, and to set the fashion in hats?""Yes," said Vivette, "if there is nothing better to do, but perhaps
there is.""What an odd girl she is," said Mr. Hatton to himself."Have you any objection to promenading in the conservatory, Miss
Carruthers?" asked Mr. Hatton. "They are delightful, those
conservatories, perfect winter gardens."Vivette glanced at her little gold watch, a present from her good
Aunt Carruthers. She was getting impatient. Lord Raven was to arrive
in about ten minutes from that time, and when he did arrive, would he
seek out Elaine. Nobody knew if they were yet pledged to each
other. But if Lord Raven found Vivette alone he would perhaps come and
talk to her. The girl counted every moment of his society, every word
that fell from his lips, as misers count their coins of gold. She
treasured them all. She longed for his coming as the hungry long for
bread, and as the cold long for fire and shelter."On the other hand, I don't want him to find me moping alone." she
said to herself. "I will walk through the conservatories with this
man."So she arose, with a smile, took Mr. Hatton's arm, and accompanied
him toward the beautiful conservatories that were more like
gardens. The flowers were glorious. There was a fountain in one recess, round which clustered
a number of large-leaved shrubs of tropical growth, and there were
crimson velvet seats near this place."Let us sit here and watch the fountain," said Mr. Hatton.Vivette obeyed. Her thoughts were far away from this man, with his
unpleasant manners! All at once she heard a voice that she knew, on
the other side of the screen of shrubs. Two sofas must have been
placed back to back, with the shrubs between them. The voice set the
pulses of Vivette Carruthers thrilling. Her blood rushed madly through
her veins, her head swam, and her heart beat fast. It was the voice of
Lord Raven that she heard, and the voice that answered was that of
Elaine, the great heiress. It was the voice of Elaine that struck like
an electric shock on the nerves of Vivette."I think you fail in courage, Lord Raven," the heiress said. "You
are not daring enough for a man and a soldier.""In what respect, Miss Carruthers, have I failed in courage and
daring?" asked the calm, grave voice of Lord Raven."Well," said the heiress, "you see, it is not of physical bravery
that I speak. I mean that, knowing that your estates are mortgaged,
and that you are poor, while I am an heiress, and reckoned by the
world a beauty and a genius, I mean to say that you, in short, are
afraid--""Afraid of what?" asked Lord Raven.CHAPTER
XXV.LORD RAVEN REFUSES ELAINE.Elaine coughed gently, and then she said calmly: "You are afraid of
me, Lord Raven.""Of you! In what way, Miss Carruthers? I am quite innocent of
having given you any offense. I am--"He stammered a little. He was half-afraid of what Elaine might be
going to say, and yet how preposterous was the idea that she could
mean to, no, not to propose to him! Let him drive the idea from his
thoughts."Oh, you need not fear; you have not given me any offense
whatever," said Elaine, speaking in a tone that told Vivette she must
have been smiling. "No, but you are afraid. You know that my father is
so enormously rich, and that I am rich. Our parents, yours and mine,
have wished us to marry," said Elaine, speaking now calmly, and
without the least hesitation, as if she were a princess arranging the
preliminaries of her own marriage, with a view of benefiting, first
the State, next herself."Well, you think, perhaps, that it is so much a mariage de convenance that my heart is not in it,
and that I think myself too rich to marry a poor nobleman, when I
might marry a foreign prince, or even a potentate. Of course, being,
as I am, beautiful, I have many men at my feet. I dare say you think I
am vain and spoiled, and that I despise you. Nothing of the kind. I
see you are so timid that I am obliged to speak out. I tell you
plainly, dear Lord
Raven"--the voice of the heiress shook now a little with
emotion--"dear Lord Raven, that I love you with all my heart. Yes, I
will indeed try to make you a good wife."The woman, and the loving woman, spoke now in Miss Carruthers'
voice. The absurdity of her own speech never struck this girl of dull
comprehension, who had been reared in an atmosphere of praise until
she had no more real notion or experience of the world than some rare
hothouse exotic has of the keen, pure air of English frosts. A sharp
frost was, indeed, to nip the hopes of poor Elaine. Vivette listened
with her very soul in her ears to the reply of Lord Raven. The words,
which sank like molten lead into the quivering heart of poor Elaine,
were as trumpet-calls of joy and hope to the soul of Vivette."My dear Miss Carruthers, I wish there had been no mistake, and
then we might both have been spared some pain. What has been proposed
and wished for by our relatives is now impossible. In short, I don't
mean to marry at all!"There was blank silence for a moment, and then Elaine said, still
speaking in that calm way which told Vivette that she was smiling:"It is nonsense to talk so. It is all arranged. My father is
prepared with the settlements, very heavy ones, all to be in your
favor. There will be no need for your pride to take offense. I am so
very glad I spoke, because I see that you really had these delicate
scruples. Much as you, of course, love me, you found it still
impossible to surmount them. But now all will be right. We are engaged
to become man and wife.""But by George! We are not!" cried Lord Raven impetuously. "I won't be married or engaged
against my will! I must speak plainly, Miss Carruthers.""Charles Raven," said Elaine calmly, "will you force me to say such
things? I love you, and you love me!""But, indeed, I don't, not in the least! It is a sad mistake to
suppose it. Great Heaven! What have I done, dear young lady, to make
you think that I loved you? I thought my manner had been cold to
bruskness."Again there was silence, but when the voice of Elaine spoke again
it did not sound like her voice at all, it was so broken and weak."Lord Raven, you have deceived me! You--you--you shall answer for
this! You shall be fined, imprisoned! Whatever penalty the law exacts
you shall suffer! You have ruined my happiness forever!"It then seemed that the poor, pretty young heiress broke into weak,
hysterical weeping."Miss Carruthers--" began Lord Raven."Get away, get away! out of my sight forever and ever, viper,
reptile! Oh, what will my father say? I will go abroad at once! I will
not stay in this hateful England. I wish I was dead! I wish some brave
man would call you out, and put a bullet, yes, my lord, a bullet,
through your false heart! I will speak to my father now, this
instant. I will have you turned out of this house at once!"Vivette's great black eyes were fixed on Mr. James Hatton in a
mixture of wonder, alarm, and shame, for she was mortified at her
cousin's want of dignity. Her sense of overpowering relief amounted to
delight. All these mingled feelings gave a peculiar look to her
piquant young face, a look that fascinated Mr. James Hatton more than he had ever been
fascinated in his whole life. She was flushed, and her dark eyes shone
and swam in tears. She pitied Elaine, for when that hitherto calm,
self-possessed, and perfectly self-satisfied young heiress spoke of
her great love for Charles Raven, her words found an echo in the deep,
passionate heart of Vivette. But while tears shone in her eyes, there
was the shadow of a smile on her red lips."This girl is quite entrancing!" said Mr. Hatton, to himself. "What
a pity that she is not the heiress, and what an idiot the heiress is
making of herself, to be sure! I did not think there was anything in
Mademoiselle Elaine but vanity and selfishness. Now I find that she
has all the weakness of a foolish woman, and the headlong impetuosity
of a schoolgirl. Yet I have made up my mind, which, in some respects,
is like the laws of the Medes and Persians, and alters not. I have
made up my mind that mademoiselle is to become Mrs. Hatton within the
next six months!"Meanwhile, Elaine Carruthers, the hitherto calm and stately
heiress, who had grown up in the firm belief that every unmarried man
who ever saw her must fall deeply in love with her, walked out of the
conservatory, feeling that Lord Raven had done her a most deadly and
mortal injury, and firmly, honestly believing that the fascinating
young lord, with his cynical gray eyes and sweet smile, was the
greatest ruffian unhung.Poor Elaine! She had found the earth a paradise, or, rather, a
fairy-land of enchantment, where she reigned the queen of an ideal
world. It was as if the palace of sugar candy, the structure within
whose walls dwelt some lovely golden-haired fairy princess of our
childhood's stories, had suddenly melted with the heat of the sun. It
was like a child's house
of cards, reared high and gay upon the nursery table, until some
unlucky jerk upsets the edifice, which falls in harmless ruins on the
cloth.The mortification, tears, and stinging anguish of a young lady of
twenty-one years was like the quickly hushed grief of the urchin who
weeps for the fall of his house of cards.CHAPTER
XXVI.A REVENGEFUL PLOT.Poor Elaine's sufferings were likely, it is true, to last longer
than the grief of the nursery child. But then, there was so much spite
and wrath mingled with her sorrow that we cannot pity her as we would
wish.Was it even worthy of being called love, this sentiment she had
entertained for Lord Raven, who had only been coldly polite to
her?If it had been love, would not at least some portion have survived
after that rude awakening, when she discovered that she was
self-deluded?Poor Elaine hated Lord Raven now with the whole strength of her
narrow, prejudiced, spoiled soul.She was such an egotist that it seemed to her as if, of all sins
under the sun, none were so black as those which injured her.Elaine Carruthers was not one to reason about things.Hitherto not a soul had ever opposed her slightest wish, and now
this rebuff seemed to her to make the perpetrator of the outrage
worthy almost of death.Elaine fancied that she was suffering the pangs of love. She was,
in reality, smarting from the wounds which Lord Raven, a little too
roughly, had inflicted, though without desiring it, upon her sensitive
and excessive vanity.She went through the conservatories, and into the gay salon,
seeking her father. She was so worked up with rage and mortification
that she did not care who noticed
her pale, angry face, with eyes already swollen with weeping.Gentlemen bowed and made room for her, and ladies asked her if she
were ill. She only said very hastily:"Yes, I am ill. Please let me go to my father."At last she found him, in an inner room, where he was engaged with
a party of card-players at a round table. The banker, with his hands
in his pockets, stood by, smiling, and looking over the shoulders of
his guests. Elaine came up to him, and whispered into his ear:"Papa, something has happened. Come to the study. I must speak to
you alone."A look of alarm crossed the banker's face. In these days of gilded
dishonesty and insane speculations, Mr. Gervase Carruthers may be
excused if he feared that something more serious had happened than the
love-quarrel of his daughter.He hastily excused himself to his guests, and then followed his
daughter through the suites of rooms down the stairs, and to the study
where, on that very evening, Vivette had in such an eccentric manner
made the acquaintance of Christine Ellwyn.The gas was still burning, and the curtains were drawn
close. Elaine shut the door, then she said hoarsely, looking at her
father:"I have been insulted shamefully. Tell me, tell me, how are we to
punish him!"The banker was relieved. This "something" had nothing to do with
money."Punish whom, my dear child?""That infamous scoundrel Lord Raven!""Good heavens! What has he done?""He has told me in the most insulting manner that he does not love me one atom, that--that he would
not marry me for the whole world!"The banker looked terribly vexed."What a puppy to dare to say such a thing without being asked! What
a horrible want of manly feeling! I could see, so could your mother,
and the earl and the countess both feared it, that he was not
struck. That, in short, you and he did not seem to get on well
together at all. He was always as cool, as unconcerned, so it seemed
to me, as if the subject had never been broached to him, and had never
entered his head."I should never have mentioned the subject to him, but it was an
idea between us, the parents, to allow you and this fellow to see how
you liked each other. All on earth that was required of him was to
hold his tongue and keep away. He has kept away lately, until I
especially asked him to this party. And you mean to say that he coolly
volunteered these statements, and to you, the insufferable young
fool!"Elaine was white as death. Humiliation seemed to be poured upon
her. She knew that she had told Lord Raven that she loved him, and
wished to marry him; but then, how sure she had felt that he adored
her, and only wanted encouragement."How on earth did the fellow presume to tell you such a thing, my
child? I hope you told him not to distress himself, and that such a
thought never entered your mind?""No, papa, no, no! Oh, I was so humiliated. Fancy being humiliated,
I, Elaine Carruthers, humiliated! Oh, it is too much! I told him,
papa, that I thought he was afraid to ask me. That he need not be,
for, that I--I loved him, yes, loved him, and would marry him. He said no, never, that he had not an
atom of love for me, and that he would not marry me. I wish--I wish
that I could take his life! Such a wretch is really not fit to
live!""My poor girl!" said the banker. "And do you really love him?
Perhaps this is only a lovers' quarrel, my child.""No, no, no, he has never, never liked me, and I--I thought he did,
and was afraid. You know everybody that sees me falls in love with me,
papa!""My child, what a horrible mistake to make! I think sometimes that
Raven is in love with Vivette. I have seen him watching her.""Vivette! Oh, impossible! She is so plain and has such large
features, no culture! No, he must look in surprise at her, and wonder
how two such dissimilar beings could be cousins. One all loveliness,
grace, and refinement, and the other--"Just for a moment it struck Mr. Carruthers that his daughter was
praising herself a little too much, but he did not speak."Tell me, Elaine, did he seem insolent in his manner, as if he
thought we wanted him for you?""Very insolent," said Elaine. "Very hatefully insolent! Tell me,
papa, what shall I do to punish him? Can he not be imprisoned?""My child, for what? For not falling in love with you? Think, my
dear, with your usual good sense. You will soon come to the conclusion
that there is really nothing whatever to be done expect to go back to
the rooms among your guests, and behave as if nothing had
happened. You see, Lord Raven was not even supposed to know that a
marriage with you was contemplated by his parents and yours. He has never by word or sign allowed it to
appear that he knew a single thing about the matter.""You are my father," said Elaine, who was white with wrath, "and
you take the part of this villain. You will not even help me to punish
him? No, father, you may go back to your guests yourself, but I will
not. For a very little, I would demand a separate establishment, and
leave your house forever!""Why, Elaine, you must be mad !" said the poor banker. But Elaine
turned away, and walked out of the room, holding her head very
high.In the hall she was met by Mr. Hatton, who came forward and
presumptuously seized the white hands of the pretty heiress."Miss Carruthers, I am your slave. I am at your service. You have
been cruelly insulted. Command me in any way. Tell me what I can do
for you?""Punish Lord Raven!" said Elaine, speaking between her fierce,
short sobs. "Punish him, and I will be your friend forever!"CHAPTER
XXVII.CHRISTINE, THE ARTIST.Vivette was sitting alone in the conservatory, when suddenly Lord
Raven came and stood before her."Good evening, Vivette," he said. "We meet seldom now.""I often see you, my lord," she answered.Her heart was beating wildly. The young lord sat down by her
side."You see me, yes, but we never have any chat. We are not the
friends we once were.""If so, that is not my fault," said Vivette. "I am as much your
friend, as grateful to you, as I ever was.""I suppose that this season you will captivate some rich fellow,
and marry," said Lord Raven, with a half-sigh.He was plucking a leaf from a flowering shrub as he spoke. His back
was turned, and Vivette could not see his face."You speak with a touching pathos, Lord Raven," she said, with a
little, nervous laugh."Are you mocking me?" he asked. "I wish I quite understood you, but
you are a riddle hard to understand.""Am I?" To herself she said: "Not so hard as you are, my Lord
Raven!""If I had fallen in love with you, Vivette, I should have been
miserable to-night.""Why?" she asked very quickly."Oh, because you have been flirting with Mr. Carruthers' chief
clerk, a man I detest.""Since you never were in love with me, and since you are not
miserable, suppose we change the subject?" said Vivette. "I have a new
protegée in whom I want you to be interested."Then she told him the strange story of Christine Ellwyn.Lord Raven turned round and faced Vivette. There was a strange look
in his eyes."I must, indeed, see this remarkable girl," he said. "I take a
strange interest in her. Paints, does she?""So she says," Vivette answered.A spasm of jealousy contracted her heart when she saw those
deep-gray eyes of Raven's filled with a curiosity too subtle for her
comprehension."Seventeen Percival Street," he said, and he wrote the name down in
his pocketbook, still looking at Vivette. "And you," he said, "what on
earth attracted you toward this romantic young pauper? Not beautiful,
you say?""Better than insipid beauty," answered Vivette. "Intelligence,
refinement, with something lofty in her face, despite its pinched,
worn expression.""We will bring her out, and make a countess of her!" said Lord
Raven.Something in his words rang like a prophecy.So it seemed to Vivette.Elaine Carruthers did not appear again that night, among her
father's guests, A sudden indisposition was pleaded as an excuse for
her non-appearance. But
Vivette knew in her heart that her fair cousin was suffering the
tortures of humiliated pride and slighted love, and she pitied
her. There is an ancient song, set to music by one of the old masters,
and two lines of this song rang in Vivette's ears all through that
night, for she was too excited to sleep:
"Her griefs so lonely shown,Made me think upon my own."Thus the chords of a kindly sympathy were vibrating in Vivette's
heart."I love him. We both love him," she said to herself. "And he loves
neither of us. Not the fair-haired heiress, with a huge fortune. Not
the poor cousin, with nothing to recommend her but her vivacity, her
black eyes, and her devotion, yes, devotion to him! I could think it
pleasant to die for Raven's sake. I have lost all the ambition that I
used to think was the strongest element in my character. Now I would
not marry the richest duke in England if he asked me. It would be
sacrilege while my heart clings to him. But he shall never know it. I
am so strong and vigorous, so full of health, with such a promise of a
long life before me, yet it seems to me it would be sweet to die for
Raven's sake!"And thinking these romantic thoughts, Vivette sank off into a calm,
dreamless sleep.Her life in Belgrave Square was as pleasant, as luxurious as she
could desire. Her own chamber was filled with every luxury. The
library and the music-room were open to her. Her supply of
pocket-money was liberal, and she had so completely won her way into
the hearts of her aunt and uncle that it is quite probable a
feeling of jealousy would have
awakened in the soul of her cousin had not events marched on quickly
toward a somewhat tragic ending.It was early in the year, and the greatest of the great families
had not yet returned to town. The season had not fairly commenced, but
still there was gay visiting going on, dinner-parties and
balls. Vivette went everywhere, always dressed in the most becoming
gowns.She already numbered on her list several ardent admirers. Among
them was Captain Blake, a brave officer, about a dozen years older
than herself. He had a fair landed estate in a southern
county. Blond-complexioned, stalwart, and worthy, he proposed to her,
and was gently and courteously refused.Her uncle took the opportunity of questioning Vivette. He told her
that Blake had spoken to him, declaring that he did not wish for a
shilling with such a bride."Which shows it was genuine love on his part, my dear," said
Mr. Carruthers. "I am rich, but I am speculative, and if you had
married Blake, I would have given yon seven thousand pounds, to be
settled on yourself. But if you throw chances away, the time may come
when I shall not be able to give you so much, or anything at all.""Uncle," said Vivette softly, "I never mean to marry at all. I have
loved, and I shall never love again.""And where is the man you love?" asked the banker. There was a
searching look in his eyes, which Vivette did not like."He is dead, uncle," she answered quietly. But she added to
herself: "Dead to me, for I know that he will never, never love
me!"A month had glided away since that eventful night when Elaine had
told Lord Raven that she wished to marry him; that night when Vivette
had called in the poor girl from the street.Christine Ellwyn will now be introduced under rather different
circumstances. It was the afternoon of a fine but deceitful
February. The sun had been shining, and was now sinking into the
west. The wind had been southwest all day. One not well acquainted
with the bitter and treacherous climate might have fancied that the
spring was coming quickly.A girl in a neat, plain black jacket and black hat was walking
along Trafalgar Square, carrying a portfolio under her arm. She was a
slight girl, with a sweet, pale face and delicate though pronounced
features, with soft brown, penetrating eyes. We have seen this girl
before in the room at the banker's house in Belgrave Square, when
Vivette gave her sympathy, and food, and money. Christine Ellwyn had
lost the look of sorrow which had been on her face. She looked calm,
and there was the light of hope and youth now in the brown eyes.All at once a smile, bright as the sunshine, broke out over her
face. She extended her hand to a young man who came along, smiling, to
meet her, and likewise with extended hand. He was tall and straight,
with a soldierly bearing, and a handsome, patrician face."So you have been studying in the National Gallery? You must let me
see your pictures when we get home. Tell me what is it you are
copying?""An old fifteenth century head of the Virgin," she answered. "Oh,
it is divine! That is the work that shows one how great the soul of
man can be!""And of woman, also.""Yes, Lord Raven, but we have not the power, as a rule, that Heaven
gives to men. How happy I am, now that I can keep on learning the
great lessons which the old masters teach, and all the time I am able,
through your kindness and that of Miss Carruthers, to sell my little
paintings. There is such a ready sale for them, thanks to your
patronage and recommendation, and that I owe to her. She is noble,
whatever her faults may be!""She is noble," Lord Raven answered; "but she has, nevertheless,
done you a wrong.""She is unconscious of it," Christine answered. "She has no idea
that what she has done has wronged any one.""When she knows it she will be humiliated to the dust. But she is
not to know it yet. You promise me that, do you not, Miss Ellwyn?""For my part, and if it were left to me, she would never know what
I know of her," Christine answered, with a dreamy, far-away smile. "I
would never have told you if my father had not. I had rather, with a
little help up these first slippery steps of fame, toil on in
obscurity for a few years. I am pale and thin, but I have youth,
health, and vigor. I know, if I live, I shall reach the light at
last," she added, looking down thoughtfully at the dusty London
pavement at her feet."I believe you will be famous," said Lord Raven. "The fates were
against you, Christine, but genius cast a halo over your head while
you were in your cradle. One can read that in your eyes."They were walking along, these two young friends, between whom had
yawned such a social gulf, but yet their hands met.As they came into Oxford Street the lamps were alight, and they
walked on through the crowd, taking no heed of the crash and glare of
the life around them.Vivette had been following the pair down Oxford Street."Are they already lovers, and I have not introduced them to each
other three weeks," she said to herself. "Yes, my heart was like a
prophet. I knew, I felt, there was a chord of harmony between those
two. Merciful Heaven! to think that I should call a beggar-girl from
the street, feed her and clothe her. I have given her many of my
clothes and half my money. I have removed her and her strange
uncompromising father to a neat, respectable lodging, and then
introduced her to Raven, who sells her pictures for her, meets her as
she leaves the gallery, as I meant to have done, and loves her with a
true and noble love. He could love in no other way. And that pale,
sad-eyed child will one day be Countess of Riverswood! I said it would
be sweet to die for Raven, but will it not be as bitter as death to
see him happy with another? If it is, I will endure it."Vivette knew that Lord Raven was on his way to Seymour Street,
where the Ellwyns were lodging. She turned suddenly, called a cab, and
was driven to Belgrave Square.It was near the dinner-hour, and Vivette was hastening up the
stairs to make some alterations in her dress, when a door on the wide
landing opened, and her uncle stood before her."Vivette, Vivette, my child, come here. Here is terrible news for
us! Elaine--" he paused."What of Elaine?" asked Vivette. Her heart was filled with a sudden
shapeless fear.CHAPTER
XXVIII.THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ELAINE.Vivette followed Mr. Carruthers into the first room on the lauding,
a small, snug, richly furnished back drawing-room. The crimson velvet
curtains were drawn close, the fire was flaming in the polished grate,
and the crimson velvet couch was drawn close to it. Everything spoke
of luxury, comfort, and peace, but the distracted face of the banker,
his clasped hands, his wide-opened though tearless eyes, showed that
some dreadful misfortune had come upon him."What is it, uncle?" asked Vivette."Elaine, my peerless girl, is unworthy, and has disgraced her
parents in their old age. She has brought shame upon us, Vivette,
shame and ruin!"A piteous sound of sobbing here startled Vivette. She looked up,
and saw her Aunt Carruthers.That lady had been sitting on a low couch in a recess behind a
large flowered screen. She came forward, and fell upon Vivette's neck,
weeping bitterly."Oh, my child!" she said, "tell your uncle not to be so harsh and
stern. Tell him there is no shame! Elaine is, of course, married. She
would not hesitate a moment if she made up her mind to a thing. Of
course she has always been used to having her own way almost entirely,
and she ought to have consulted us, not to have run off like that. We
would have given our consent in time.""Never!" exclaimed the banker. "Not if she knelt at my feet
forever. I would never forgive her! And now she is, I must suppose, married to him, I
will never forgive her as long as I live, never! If she starves it
won't matter to me. I hope she will starve, and the rascal who has led
her into this low, disgraceful marriage!""What marriage? Has my cousin married?" asked Vivette. "I am all in
the dark.""We think she has married Mr. James Hatton," said poor
Mrs. Carruthers, between her sobs."And the rascal has embezzled money to the amount of twenty
thousand pounds! Do you see the diabolical cunning of the man? He
feels that I can hardly prosecute my own daughter's husband, thus he
persuades her to elope with him. He takes with him twenty thousand
pounds and my daughter. And since it was well known that she is the
heiress to ten times that sum, he makes sure that, even if I never
give her a farthing more, I shall not put him into prison, but just
make the best of a bad bargain. The accursed hound!"The banker was in a rage. He spoke through clenched teeth. Vivette
was afraid he would have a fit."Dear uncle," she said gently, "calm yourself, and drink some
water. Things may not be so bad as you think. I know how proud Elaine
is. She would never marry Mr. Hatton, your clerk. There is nothing in
him to love or even to like, certainly nothing to captivate a girl of
Elaine's fastidious tastes. I am so confident, I feel so sure that she
was not in love with him, not up to yesterday. I am positive of it,
for we were in her dressing-room, she was getting ready to go to the
opera after dinner, and I advised her to wear a sprig of holly in her
hair for a change from the blue-and-white flowers she always put in
it, and she said, 'No, that upstart Hatton was praising holly to me
yesterday, and if I wear it I am afraid he will think it is in deference to his
taste, the beast!' Yes, uncle, she actually called him a beast. Now,
is that the way in which a girl, a proud girl like Elaine, would speak
of a man she intended to make her husband?""That was a part of the diabolical cunning she has learned from
him," said Mr. Carruthers. "Because we have it in Hatton's own
handwriting that they have gone off together to be married. Read
that," and he put a note, written on thick glossy paper, into the
hands of Vivette.She went close to the lamp, and read as follows:"My
DEAR MR. CARRUTHERS:For the last five years I
have been your clerk, and within the two last years you have made me
your confidential clerk. You have trusted me with everything, and
have always said most complimentary things of my business ability. The
handsome salary you have allowed me of seven hundred a year, the
hospitality you have so kindly extended toward me, all of these acts
of kindness may seem at first to be ill-requited when I tell you that
I am about to make your lovely daughter my wife. Love laughs at all
social distinctions. I am but a paid clerk, with neither family
connections nor wealth to boast of, yet your beautiful daughter
deliberately chooses me from among the list of her gay and brilliant
acquaintances, and deigns to become my wife."Possibly, Mr. Carruthers, you will never forgive your daughter
this step that she has taken. In that case, we shall set sail for New
York next week. At the present time we await your decision, which will
decide our fate. You will find that I have helped myself to the
surplus cash under my care. This you will not grudge to the daughter
for whom you had meant to provide so magnificently. Of course, I
should never have dreamed of touching a shilling, unless it had been
for the sake of my lovely bride, but she has lived so luxuriously that
I am forced to put up at
the most expensive hotels. A cessation from the extreme of luxury
would be the cruelest hardship for beautiful Elaine. Will you address
your answer to the post at Brighton in my initials? At the same time,
I think it right to tell you that you will not find us there until we
have the assurance of your forgiveness in 'your own dear handwriting,'
as dearest Elaine says.""That is not an expression of Elaine's," said Vivette, folding, the
letter neatly in her hands, and looking very thoughtful indeed. "There
is a terribly false ring about that letter. When did it arrive,
uncle?""By the last post," said the banker shortly. "And what do you mean
by the false ring? Answer me quickly. You must know that Elaine is
gone, has packed up several of her things, taken some money and a few
jewels, and left a note for her mother.""Here it is," said Mrs. Carruthers, taking a note from her pocket
and handing it to Vivette, who opened it, and read as follows:"DEAR
MOTHER:Don't be alarmed at my absence. I am on
the eve of a great discovery, and it is important that the whole
proceeding should be kept quiet. I leave by an early train, and may be
absent some few days. The object that is nearest my heart is about to
be attained. The greatest secrecy is necessary, but I hope by the end
of the week the whole will be made clear as
noonday."Your
lovingELAINE.""What a very puzzling, unaccountable circumstance!" said
Vivette. She drew her black brows into a frown. "Tell me," she said,
"when did that arrive?""That was left on her dressing-table at lunch-time when her maid
went to call Elaine," replied Mrs. Carruthers."You were out, Vivette. It threw us into terrible consternation,
and then by the five-o'clock post came that impudent scoundrel's
letter," said the banker. "By George! I'll prosecute him. He shall
have ten years' penal servitude if he is ten times my daughter's
husband!""Oh, no, no!" cried the weeping mother. "That would kill our child,
Mr. Carruthers. We must think of her.""Do nothing rashly," said Vivette slowly. "The whole of this case
is wrapped in mystery. Write a diplomatic letter addressed to Hatton
at Brighton, and then let some of us go down there and make
inquiries.""I'll not write a letter to that scoundrel," said the banker."Let me write one," said Vivette. "I have my theory about this. I
won't tell you what it is, but I am sure we shall find out things that
will astonish us very much. Some of us ought to go down to Brighton at
once."But Mr. Carruthers said that, if he stirred in the matter at all,
it would only be to take out a warrant for the apprehension of his
thievish clerk."Promise, then, not to do that just yet," cried Vivette. "Keep him
in this country. Don't let him escape with the money, and--"She paused, and bit her lip, as if she had said too much. Vivette
had seen many a wily game played in her own short, turbulent life. She
knew more of some of the deeds of dishonest men and women than did the
astute banker three times her age.He looked at his tall, black-eyed niece in mingled admiration,
perplexity, and affection."She is a dear girl," he said to himself, "but a very strange
one."Indeed, had the banker and his wife known the dark and terrible
suspicions that were at work in Vivette's vigorous mind, they would
almost have gone mad with fear and horror.As it was, the girl bit her lip, kept her counsel, and did not
express one word of the fears that haunted her mind."Certainly Elaine has not been like herself of late," said
Mrs. Carruthers. "She has been so cross, and silent, and has sat in
corners at all our parties, talking to Hatton.""Yes," said Vivette, "that is true, but she dislikes that vulgar
upstart, I am sure.""Schoolgirls' trash!" said the banker. "By this time, or at any
rate by this time to-morrow, she will be his wife!"I shall wash my hands of the whole affair!" continued the
banker. "Henceforth I shall ignore the very existence of my
daughter. Yes, let the thief keep the money he has stolen and the
worthless girl who has broken her parents' hearts!""That much is gained!" said Vivette to herself. "He does not mean
to frighten the wretch off with the warrant. I hope sincerely that he
will be caught."Vivette herself wrote a very polite letter, and sent it to
Brighton, addressed to Mr. Hatton. She asked for an answer, and said
that, if her cousin Elaine were the wife of Mr. Hatton, and would
write and tell her so, she would do all that she could to make her
uncle relent toward her.This letter she posted, but several days passed and she received no
answer. And all this time her mind was pre occupied, for she was racked by the
tortures of an unrequited love. Vivette believed that Christine Ellwyn
had, without an effort, won the heart which she would have given
almost her life to win.She more than once followed Christine out of the National Gallery
herself unseen, and on two occasions Lord Raven met her, joined her,
and walked with her in the direction of her home."He loves her!" Vivette repeated to herself night and day, until
she had learned the bitter lesson by heart, and all the world grew
gray and dull to her.This love of hers for Lord Raven was, notwithstanding, the noblest
and the most elevating. Vivette could scarcely recognize her inner
soul as being the same that had animated her material form. when she
had come up to Malvern in the summer.Then self had been her object. Now she felt that the chief purpose
of life was to do good to others. She saw her aunt and uncle both
bowed down with grief at the loss of their child.
The banker vowed that, if she came back the next day repentant, he
would never forgive her, and added in the same breath that his heart
was broken, and that Vivette should inherit all the wealth that should
have been Elaine's."Never, never, uncle!" cried Vivette. "Never, if she never comes
back! Don't think of me! Give all to charities, to the poor, to
anybody, but I will never touch a shilling that should have been
Elaine's!"And she rushed out of the room, to walk up and down her own room,
with the door locked."A chance in life," she said. "That was my idea when I brought
myself under the notice of the rich banker, and it has fallen out beyond my
expectations, so that he puts me in the place of his child, and calls
me his heiress, and yet my heart is broken, for I am unworthy. I feel
my own unworthiness. The man I love has, in truth, never had any other
feeling for me than a pitying contempt, and now he loves, loves
worthily!"Let him be happy with her, that girl who is so truthful and
honorable. She had been through all the terrible trials which poverty
and a reckless father have brought upon her! I will go and see her
now. This is not students' day. I shall find her in her little room at
work, with her large soft eyes turned upon me with gratitude. She does
not know what a wretch I am, how utterly unworthy!"Soon after this Vivette dressed herself, called for the carriage,
and went out driving. She gave orders to be set down at the new
lodgings of the Ellwyns. They occupied some plainly furnished rooms in
Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square. As Vivette mounted the wide old
staircase, she heard the voice of Mr. Ellwyn raised higher than he
usually spoke. She paused and listened. The words she heard set her
heart beating to suffocation, made her blood rush madly through her
veins. She was obliged to pause on the landing, and clasp the
balusters, or she could inevitably have fallen to the floor, for the
whole house seemed to rock and heave like the deck of a vessel in a
storm at sea."I tell you," said the voice of Mr. Ellwyn, "that I will not
consent to allow this girl to usurp your place any longer! You are the
niece of Gervase Carruthers, I am his brother. She is the daughter of
that adventurous scamp Hillary, the son of old Sir Richard Hillary,
who cannot keep his title from descending to his ruffian son, but who has cut off every
shilling from him in his will. This girl is an imposter, and--""I know it! Lord Raven has known it a long time," said the sweet
voice of Christine.Those were the words which were as a death-blow to faulty,
passionate, yet noble Vivette!CHAPTER
XIX.RETRIBUTION."Known it a long time! Lord Raven? What is there left for me, save
to die?"But Vivette was armed with a strange courage which impelled her now
to go forward with white face, shining eyes, and smiling lip. To dare
the worst, and brave the worst that the fates could offer her!"I will tell them everything!" the girl said to herself. "All my
past history, with its trials and temptations, yes, its fiery
temptations! And that Christine, with the pitying eyes! Christine
Carruthers shall hear the story of Vivette Hillary from her own
lips!"Then Vivette passed into the plainly furnished room, which looked
through two front windows into the rather gloomy old-fashioned
street. A good fire flamed in the grate. The furniture consisted of
some very ancient horsehair chairs, and an old sofa covered in faded
chintz. Green curtains and a faded red carpet completed the adornments
of the apartment.But the room was well swept and dusted. A man with a pale, haggard
face, and restless, though deep-sunk eyes, filled with fire and
intelligence, leaned back in an old horsehair armchair. He e wore a
long, comfortable, flannel dressing-gown, and had the appearance of a
confirmed invalid. His brown hair was fast turning gray. When Vivette
entered he looked up.Then he bowed his head to her stiffly and ceremoniously, as had
always been his custom ever since Vivette had made the acquaintance of Christine, and rescued
both her and her father from the depths of misery.Vivette advanced toward Christine, who stood before an easel, brush
in hand, looking with dark eyes at a half-finished painting. Christine
was dressed in a plain gray gown, without any ornament or relief save
a large white collar. Her hair was arranged with perfect neatness. She
was so completely absorbed in the contemplation of her work that she
had not noticed the entrance of Vivette until that young lady stood
before her."Christine," said Vivette, "look at me."Christine started, smiled, and held out her hand to clasp that of
Vivette, but Vivette shrank back from the girl."I am unworthy to touch your hand," she said hoarsely. "I am a
living lie. I am Vivette Hillary, and you are Christine
Carruthers!"Christine's sweet, thoughtful face flushed deeply."I should never have betrayed you," she said simply, "for you
rescued me and my father from poverty, and rags, and hunger. It was so
hard, so difficult to see the light shining through all that
darkness. Only the eye of faith could see it. But you came like a
pitying angel to give us comfort, compassion, and hope in life.""I was all the time a fiend in the guise of an angel. I am an
impostor! Come with me quickly to my uncle, I mean to your Uncle
Carruthers, and announce yourself, and--denounce me.""Never!" said Christine. "Not if I live to be a hundred years
old. I want nothing of my uncle, now that I can earn my bread.""Nothing now that she has won the love of the noblest man in England," said Vivette to herself;
"but I will not hold her place another hour now that I know the
truth."Vivette turned round, and faced the pale invalid in the
armchair."Mr. Carruthers," she said, "now that I look at you I recognize
your strange and striking likeness to your brother."Mr. Carruthers bowed his head, and pointed toward his daughter."Justice ought to be done to her," he said."Justice, the fullest and freest that one woman can render to
another, shall be done to her. Christine Carruthers stands as my
highest ideal of all that is patient and long-suffering, noble, and
sweet in a woman," answered Vivette. "She has genius. I have but the
shadow of it. She has patience, while I, under less trying
circumstances, was violent and headstrong, selfish and--yes, even
criminal."She paused to stifle the sob that rose in her throat.Christine would have laid her slender hand lovingly upon Vivette's
shoulder, but that young lady drew back."No, no, no, do not pity me. Do not try to soothe me, only listen,
both of you, to the story of my miseries and temptations. When you
consider what hot, impatient blood runs in my veins and from what a
rebel stock I spring, perhaps in your hearts you may have some
compassion for a girl who feels now very little but contempt for
herself. No, I will not sit down. I am not worthy to sit in your
presence, Christine. You say, Mr. Carruthers, that you know something
of my father, Eustace Hillary. Well, he ran through a fortune left to
him by his uncle on the mother's side, before he was twenty-five. Then
his father, Sir Richard, who was and is an avari-cious, mean old man, vowed he would never leave him a
shilling of his fortune unless he studied for some profession, and
lived economically, and showed a capacity for work. Instead of that,
my father bet, gambled, and threw the dice. Then he married my mother,
the pretty orphan daughter of poor parents. I have heard that he grew
tired of her within the year, soon after I was born."My first recollections are of poverty, debts, and quarrels between
my parents. When I was twelve my mother died in a little distant,
dreary German town. Soon after that my father wrote to his father, and
asked him to adopt me, and take me, his lawful grandchild, under his
care. The old wretch returned the letter torn across, and accompanied
by these words, 'Your beggarly child, if sent, will, like this, be
returned.'"How well I remember what a vengeful spirit, what a hatred of the
rich and great and prosperous woke up in me when my father showed me
that letter of old Sir Richard's. I vowed within my heart that, by
hook or by crook, I too would be rich some day."I passed the years, the scrambling, shabby years of my youth,
picking up my education for msyelf, reading all that came in my way,
learning to paint and to play with the scantiest instruction, but
always rating myself highly, and making up my mind to be a rich man's
wife."All these details might excite your contempt if you, Miss
Carruthers, were less good, less gentle, than you are."Well, my father made your acquaintance while we were staying at
Friburg, in the Black Forest, Mr. Carruthers, and I was at that time a
sort of pupil teacher in a convent near the town. I never met you, and
never, never knew that you had a daughter."One day I was told suddenly that my father had called for me. I
was to pack up my few belongings, and leave the dull life which, by
its monotony, was driving me mad, for I had not been used to
monotony. I was to accompany my father to London. We traveled night
and day, and when we arrived here we took some respectable apartments;
then my father told me what his plans were."He said that a certain Mr. Carruthers had been so much injured by
a boat accident that the doctors all said he could not live three days
from the time that he had quitted Friburg. He told me that this man
had made a confidant of him, and had told him he was the only brother
of Carruthers, the great London banker."'I have all his papers which contain all the information I
require,' continued my father, 'and now I want you to write to that
man, and say you are the orphan daughter of his dead brother. Do this,
and ten to one he adopts you. Though he had quarreled with his
brother, the banker is enormously rich, and has only one child. Ten to
one he adopts you,' repeated my father. 'Think what a chance in life
this offers you. You will be in all probability a great
heiress. Certainly you may marry well, and when you are so well off,
you must make your poor father an allowance.'"Well, Mr. Carruthers, I confess I did not hesitate. I sprang
forward with eagerness to play this false game. I had been brought up
without any proper code of honor. I would never have done this, had I
known that the Mr. Carruthers, whose child I claimed to be, had a
child whose place I was usurping. I succeeded in deceiving the good
banker, and I am now his favorite. How he will hate me when he learns
the truth!"Vivette paused, and dashed away the bright tears that rose to her eyes when she thought of the
kindness and love of the banker and his wife."It will be hard to lose all that and earn their hatred," she said
to herself. "But I deserve it, and it must be done.""Your father, young lady, is an unmitigated scoundrel," said
Mr. Carruthers, "but you are noble, and you shall not be crushed or
ruined through us. We will befriend you. As for my brother, he thinks
I am dead! Well, I shall try to convince him that I am alive, and at
the same time that Christine and myself owe our lives to your
compassion and charity, when you had no idea whom you were
befriending."Vivette made an impatient gesture."Don't praise me," she said, "I am unworthy, and my father one of
the blackest villains in the world. I shall only stay among you until
I have seen you righted, Christine, and your father and his brother
reconciled.""That I should never have sought from Gervase," said
Mr. Carruthers. "But I thought I was dying, and my poor child was
working for a few sous a day and her food in a large warehouse in
Strasburg. I knew Christine had genius, patience, sweetness, and all
the qualities of a saint. I praised her to your father, and gave him
my brother's address, asking him to do what he could for me. He left
me, thinking I should die of the low fever which consumed me, and he
took away his daughter instead of mine."When I recovered, I felt uneasy at having trusted Hillary. I did
not write to my brother, somehow fearing treachery. I went to seek my
child, who had not heard a word about my accident, and was in great
distress at say silence. I found she knew nothing of Hillary. It was a long time before we could get funds
to travel to England. When we reached London I fell ill, and we pawned
or sold all that we had. We both shrank from applying to my brother,
but one night poor Christine, driven desperate by want, went and stood
outside the house of her rich uncle in the square, when you, who had
usurped her place, acted the good angel and called her in. You know
the rest.""The tale is not complete, Mr. Carruthers," said Vivette, as she
looked at him, with her dark eyes filled with a strange gloom. "I am
very young and I have done nobody harm willingly. I must pay the
penalty for my own faults and the crimes of others. Your daughter
shall be righted, only give me a little time."Then she bent her head gracefully, and left the
room.The mild air and the bright February sunshine were deceitful.Before the end of the week all the ponds were frozen hard, The
bitter north wind blew, and the snow fell. Then came a day bleak and
bright, when all the world turned out on the ice.Vivette, who had not yet made her confessions, for reasons to be
told hereafter, was on with a Lady Emma Brent and her daughter. All at
once there was a loud noise of cracking heard, and everybody rushed to
land. Vivette had been for some time watching a fair, slight girl,
plainly dressed in brown, who was making notes in a sketch-book of the
life around her. The girl, with eager artist's eyes, was Christine
Carruthers. She was struggling in the water. Her hands were on the
ice, and she was immersed up to her waist.If the ice broke again she was lost.Vivette's nostrils dilated. Her large eyes flashed with a strange
fire. She made a step forward, and sprang upon the unsafe, cracking
ice, holding out her hands toward the sinking girl."She is mad!" said the crowd. "They will both be
drowned!"CHAPTER
XXX.DARK SHADOWS.Vivette went forward, without fear, along the smooth, treacherous
ice. She had even the shadow of a smile on her face."I said it would he sweet to die for Raven's sake, and now I die to
save the girl he loves, for I am sure he loves Christine Carruthers,
and she is worthy of his love," Vivette thought.Meanwhile the cries of the crowd were in her ears, the warning,
terrified shouts of excited lookers-on, who knew not how filled with
anguish, remorse, shame, and humiliation was the heart of the graceful
girl, with aristocratic bearing, so daintily dressed in costly velvet
and fur.She went on toward the half-submerged figure of Christine, whose
face was pale with terror. Christine's head was thrown backward. Her
hat had fallen off, and the wintry sunshine, caught and entangled in
her hair, turned it to gold. She was sinking slowly, and was submerged
to the waist. Her hands grasped the ice-blocks on each side of her. It
was all the work of a moment.Soon Vivette stood within a couple of feet of her, and she held
toward her a walking-cane of which she had somehow obtained. She could
not have told how herself at that moment."Take it and raise yourself!""I can't; my hands are so numb with cold, I have no power!"
shrieked Christine. "Oh! Vivette, it is hard to die and
none--""Hard! Yes, when life is so sweet for her with his love," Vivette
spoke aloud to herself, though through shut teeth."It is a risk," she said, with a half-smile, "if the ice will bear
me. They are breaking the ice, and launching a boat. If you could hold
on a few minutes longer--""Come off the ice! Don't go so close to the hole! You will both be
drowned!" shouted the voices of the crowd upon the bank."My hands are numb! They slip--they have no power! Oh! save me,
Vivette! This death is too cruel!"Vivette sprang forward lightly, leaned forward, and seized the
wrists of the sinking girl, and dragged her up with an almost
supernatural strength.Another moment and Christine was out of the water, kneeling upon
the insecure ice. Vivette still held her hands."Come," she said, "get upon your feet, and let us run."Christine struggled upon her feet, but the moment that she stood
upright the ice cracked again with a loud noise. The next instant both
the girls were struggling in the water.Vivette turned and caught Christine by her long hair, which had
come unbound, then she struck out toward the shore with bold strokes
through the ice-cold water. Her hat floated away from her.The people on the banks cheered her wildly in the excess of their
admiration and excitement."One young lady can swim a little, but is cruelly hampered by her
costume, is dragging another girl toward shore. It's a piece of
madness! Both will drown!"It was a little fussy, pale man in spectacles who made these remarks to a tall young man, with a
dark, pale face and keen bright eyes, who had arrived upon the
scene. "Oh, Heaven ! and not a soul stirs to help them!" The little
pale, fussy man in spectacles heard him. "Sir, I never was a swimmer,"
he cried, "and I am suffering with lumbago."The tall young man had pulled off his boots and coat. He gave his
watch to the little gentleman with lumbago to hold for him, and then
he plunged into the water and struck out toward the almost drowning
girls. The strength of Vivette was failing fast, hampered as she was
by the weight of Christine, whose head was above water. Vivette
dragged her along, lifting her up by her hair. The agony this gave the
poor child was excruciating, but love of life and fear of death made
her endure it without flinching. She had the sense, directed by
Vivette, not to hamper her by fruitless struggles. She let herself be
dragged along. Another moment, and the dark face of Lord Raven was
close to Vivette's in the cold water."I am then dying, and your likeness is sent to comfort me!" she
spoke aloud.Her brain was whirling, and she felt dizzy and sick; but Raven did
not know that. Nevertheless, he heard the wild words the girl spoke,
and his soul drank in their full meaning. Another moment, and he had
encircled the helpless Christine with one of his strong arms. He
placed her on his back, and told her to hold firm."And you," he shouted to Vivette, "you can swim; think of
yourself. Strike out straight for the shore, brave heart. Oh, my
darling!"Vivette heard him utter these words. Oh, the depth of tenderness in
his tones."Christine, no queen holds dominion over a grander kingdom than you do, for you rule the heart of
Charles Raven. I said it would be sweet to die for your sake; but she
will live to bless you. Yes, happy Christine. But, I have helped to
save her life."Lord Raven was so strong, so superb a swimmer, that he reached the
shore while Vivette was feebly struggling toward it. How the shore
about the water whirled round and round! Where was she going? A
thousand voices rang in her ears, cheering her in vain. She had no
power left now, only for vain, aimless struggles. A great darkness
closed round her."Where am I? What has happened? I feel ill or dying, or am I dead?
Have I been dead a hundred years? What does this awakening mean, then?
I do not wish to wake. I know the world has grown very dark and
weary."Vivette lay weak and helpless, on a luxurious bed in a luxurious
chamber. It was midnight, and a shaded lamp burned in the
sick-chamber. An old woman, worn out with watching for long nights,
slept heavily in an armchair.Vivette could see her where she lay, but she did not know who she
was nor what brought her there. She tried to speak, but found it
useless. She was too weak to stir hand or foot, and the effort to
remember what had happened made her brain whirl as it had whirled in
the water. The room spun round and round, so that she closed her eyes,
and a species of dread crept over her."If that woman would wake and tell me something! How soundly she
sleeps, and how selfish her face is! I
may live or die, it matters not to her, so that she gets another one,
and is well paid."What am I musing about? Where am I? What has happened?" and
Vivette tried hard to remember what had happened, but it was
useless. "I have lost some one or something," she said to
herself. "Whom? What?"At that moment came a light tap on the door, and the fat old nurse
awoke with a start, causing a fit of coughing which ended in a
sneeze."Bless me," she said, "who is there at this time of the night?" and
a voice answered:"I am here, nurse. I could not rest until I asked how she was."Vivette's large black eyes were fixed on the door. She saw the
nurse go and open it, and a slight, graceful girl entered, dressed in
costly and fashionable garments. The girl was fair, with delicate but
pronounced features, and an expression of bright but thoughtful
intelligence.In a moment Vivette recognized her, and the whole story of the last
seven or eight months rushed to her mind."Christine, Christine Carruthers, whose place I took," she said to
herself. "She was starving, and I called her in from the street, and
fed her, all unconscious who she was. After that she won his love. I
had never even gained the shadow of it. He only thought me an amusing
and eccentric girl, while I--I would have given away my life to serve
him, and I think I did."At this point in the unhappy thoughts of Vivette her dark, restless
eyes attracted the attention of Christine, who cried out:"Look, look, nurse! You did not tell me she was con-scious. Oh, my poor child! You who have twice saved my
life. Oh, that yours, too, might be spared--"Then Christine checked herself, and bent over the wasted form of
the girl who had once been so strong, with the youthful pride of
conscious vigor and health. Christine's whole soul was compassionate
and tender. She had the truest sympathy for all who suffered, but now
her heart seemed ready to break when she met the searching glance of
those dark eyes, and looked on the white, wan face, with hollow
cheeks. That pitiful, strange, yearning expression which one sees now
and then upon the faces of those who have been very ill.The doctor had said, only that very day, that the patient was
sinking fast. Three weeks of raging brain fever, after Lord Raven had
rescued her from the water just before she sank. Three weeks! They had
brought her straight home in a cab to the great house of the banker in
Belgrave Square. She was then unconscious. Not half-drowned, for Lord
Raven had conveyed her to the shore before her head was quite
submerged.Unconscious from the effects of the fatigue and the shock upon an
already overwrought mind, all the efforts made by her friends and
attendants had failed to restore consciousness to Vivette, and she had
been put to bed. An eminent doctor was called, but in spite of every
care, a raging brain fever set in, and though all those violent
symptoms had abated within the last ten days, she had sunk into such
utter weakness, and there was such danger of stimulants bringing on
again the fever that the girl lay in the very jaws of death.Christine sank on her knees by her side and cried softly. Then
suddenly springing up, she said "I am a useless wretch. We must give
her milk, with brandy in it. You will
swallow some now, darling, will you not?"The pale lips of Vivette's moved, but she could not
speak. Christine hurried the sleepy nurse, and then a cup, filled with
milk mixed with brandy, was put to the patient's lips.Vivette made an effort and swallowed some, then she smiled
faintly. Thoughts, memories, and dead hopes crowded in upon her
mind.It seemed to her that she was done with life, and that this girl
was the successor to her joys. After her return to the house of her
supposed uncle, and the return of Christine to her humble home in the
Charlotte Street rooms, Mr. Carruthers--when his daughter was out
danger--went to Belgrave Square, asked to see the banker, told him who
he was, who Christine was, and who poor, faulty Vivette was."She promised to tell you herself, but now she may not live to tell
you. She is a noble, erring girl, and she has given her life to save
my child, whom unconsciously she wronged, for she did not know of her
existence. but I, who am ill and poor, come to tell you the truth. I
am your brother, my Christine is your niece."The banker never once doubted this statement. Indeed, Mr. Gervase
had recognized his brother before he announced himself.He at once opened his house to Christine, loaded her and her father
with gifts--but what of Vivette?"A noble creature, but dangerous," he said. "Dangerous, clever, and
deceitful. How do I know that she not, for some reason, a schemer in
this plot of my wily daughter's most disgraceful marriage?"Had Vivette been in health and strength at this time, it is certain that the banker, who was
bitterly angry at having been deceived, would have given her a couple
of hundred pounds and have sent her away, telling her never to let him
see her face more.As it was, compassion, duty, and pride, all conspired to make him
pay every attention to the hapless young patient who had been so
lately his pet, and second only to his daughter in his heart. As for
Christine, she was the most faithful and devoted of nurses."She has won my place," mused Vivette. "Her father has told
Mr. Carruthers, and she is adopted in my place. That is just, and as
it should be. She has won his heart. How lovingly they walked up
Oxford Street, arm in arm, that evening in the winter. Let me die, but
before I go I should like to see his face.CHAPTER
XXXI.HAPPINESS AT LAST.Neither Mr. Carruthers nor his wife ever visited the room of
Vivette. They paid most liberally for her comfort and attendance. They
had the most eminent doctors to attend her, but in their eyes she was
an adventuress and an impostor. In Christine's she was an angel who
had wandered by intricate paths into an unknown and sorrowful
world--one who had lost her way, and was to be loved and pitied, but
never blamed."And she is so lonely, and so friendless," said Christine. "Not a
soul will shed a tear for her but myself, and the doctor says she will
not live."Christine remained with Vivette all through that night. The raging
thirst of the fever had abated, but the weakness that remained was
most terrible.When the doctor came at nine the next morning he looked
grave. Christine watched his face. She followed him out to the
landing, and asked him if Vivette would live.He shook his head."There is no hope," he said. "The weakness and prostration are so
complete, and, though she is now conscious, there is an absence of
interest in the things and circumstances surrounding her.""She is Miss Hillary, I have understood. Her grandfather is Sir
Richard Hillary."The doctor was as much puzzled as the rest of the world respecting
this clever girl, supposed, until quite lately, to have been the niece of Gervase Carruthers. Her
noble attempt to save the life of another young lady at the risk of
her own, her rescue in her turn by Lord Raven, and her subsequent
illness, had been the subject of various paragraphs in the daily
papers. Then had come mysterious whispers, and in a day or two the
whole romantic story got whispered about, with various additions.It certainly astonished the fashionable world to see the young girl
of Charlotte Street taken into the great mansion in Belgrave Square,
established as the niece, almost as the daughter of the house. To hear
that she was the true Miss Carruthers, and that the girl who had saved
her life, and who lay now dying of brain fever, was an impostor, as
dishonorable as she was generous and self-sacrificing."She is a grandchild of Sir Richard Hillary," said Christine
gravely, "and she is one of the noblest characters I ever knew. Oh,
can you not save her, doctor?"The doctor shook his head."I fear that she has some grief, or is ashamed, perhaps, of the
part she has acted."He looked here inquiringly at Christine, but she cast her beautiful
eyes down and he saw nothing but sorrow on her pale face."She is unhappy," said the doctor; "and she has no interest in
life, I fear.""It must be my mission to give her one," said Christine softly.The doctor seized her hand."You may do something, he said, "but it is very, doubtful.""How am I to give her hope or interest in life?" Christine asked
herself. "My uncle tells me that if she recovers I am never to reckon
her among even my distant acquaintances, and however much I may love
her I must not accept his bounty and disobey his wishes. My first duty
is to my father. It would kill him if I made a breach, now that after
all these long years he and his brother are reconciled, and the
declining years of his life provided for. Vivette has saved my life,
and in return my uncle will settle upon her a life annuity of one
hundred pounds a year, and will tell her in polite, but cruel words,
never again to enter his doors. So if she lives she is to have her
life annuity, and not a friend in the world. True, she is bright,
vivacious, and charming, and would make friends if she only lives. Oh,
if she will live!"Every day Lord Raven called to ask after Vivette.On this morning he came as usual. Christine rushed into the hall to
welcome him, and took him into the dining-room and talked with him
earnestly. After that the two mounted the stairs and entered Vivette's
room.It was a March day, bleak yet bright, and a flood of pale sunshine
fell on the white pillows and the white face and the pretty head from
which the long hair had been cut.Lord Raven started, and a strange pallor came over his face.As for Vivette, at the sight of the gray eyes, the unsmiling lips,
and the clouded brow, the color came in a flood back to her cheeks,
she stretched out her hand, and in a strange, weak voice, said:"Then you had not quite forgotten me, Lord Raven, and though you
know all, you do not hate me quite? I am going," she added, with a sweet smile, "where all things are
forgotten and forgiven.""No," he said, in a low voice. "Vivette! you must not die, you must
live for the sake of--"He paused, and glanced uneasily at Christine."I can understand," Vivette said, with a patient smile. "Yes, for
your sake, and you do not quite despise me? You understand what sorrow
and poverty and temptation may lead one into. I will, if I live, pray
henceforth to be delivered from temptation. If I live, shall I have
still your friendship, Lord Raven?"Lord Raven turned white. Did the full consciousness of the great
love this girl bore him come to him all at once? And did he think
that, a nobleman, wealthy as he might be, such a love was a great
treasure even for himself?"I shall be your friend, your true friend, if you live," said he;
"and if you die--"He checked himself."But you will not die?" he added, as he pressed her hand in both
his own. "No, Vivette, live. This life will become sweeter to you than
you dream of.""We must come away now," said Christine, gently laying her hand on
Lord Raven's arm. "You know she must not be excited."And he and Christine left the room.Vivette came back to life and health slowly but surely, and her
strength grew as the spring days lengthened out and became brighter
and warmer.Lord Raven had promised to be her friend. Christine might be
separated from her for a time, for by some subtle instinct Vivette understood that Mr. Carruthers would
not suffer their friendship, or at least their intimacy, to continue
after Vivette was once restored to health. But when Christine became
Lady Raven, those two would be the kind, true friends of Vivette! She
would show him that she knew how to lead a noble, and useful, and
unselfish life. She would do good and eschew evil all the days of her
life. And so at length she crept down, wrapped in a silk
dressing-gown, to the library, where a fire was lighted, and Christine
sat with her and read to her."You are to go into the country, you are not to go to the sea,"
Christine said. "The doctor says the air would he too keen for you
just now. You are to go to a village called Langley, in Bucks, quite
an out-of-the-world country place where the air is mild. He knows a
farmhouse there where they receive convalescent patients, and the
doctor of the village is a friend of his. You will be well attended
to, and the people of the farm have a pony and low carriage. They will
see that you are driven out every day. Fanny will go with you."Fanny was a favorite maid of Vivette's. She did not once ask to see
Mr. or Mrs. Carruthers. She felt that they would never forgive the
deception she had practised on them, and she suffered all the
humiliation of a proud nature, which has been by circumstances warped
away from better things, and has suddenly awakened to a sense of its
own faults."I will earn money and pay them back some day all they have spent
upon me," she said to herself. Then Christine told her that the banker
had really settled upon her a life annuity of one hundred pounds a
year.""Because you saved my life," said Christine; "and now they have lost Elaine they have taken
me in her place!""Lost Elaine!" cried Vivette. "There is a mystery there, and if I
live I will try to fathom it."Three days after this Vivette was established in the pretty
farmhouse in the pretty English village. She had nothing especial to
do, except to try and get well as quickly as she could. The doctor
ordered her to this most out-of-the-world and quiet place. Had he
known the disturbing elements which were to come into the little
parlor, with its ancient furniture, painted window-seat and lattice,
diamond-paned window, looking into the pleasant, old-fashioned garden,
with its lawn, its great mulberry-tree, and its hedges of roses, he
would have been alarmed, and have ordered his patient to another
place.It was a lovely May morning, and Vivette sat down to her breakfast
with more appetite and in better spirits than she had had for a long
time. The mulberry-tree was covered with white blossoms. The lawn was
bordered with yellow daffodils and other spring flowers, now nodding
in the breeze. In a side-path stood a beehive. Bees and butterflies
were on the wing. Vivette looked out upon the pretty picture, and felt
her heart lighter than it had ever felt since she had awakened first
to the fact that Lord Raven's love was not for her."Why do I feel happy this morning, Fanny?" she said to the young
girl who was waiting on her."I don't know, miss, except it is that there is a wedding this
morning at Langley Church. Not a very gay one, though, Mrs. Dunn says,
for they won't set the bells to ring, and there's no bridesmaids and
no breakfast. It's a runaway match, I think. The lady has been staying
with some people at Datchet for ever so long, very ill, they said. And the gentleman has come down to
see her every week. But at last she is well enough to get married, and
it's to be this morning.""I have a great curiosity to see this bride," cried Vivette. "I am
a strange figure myself, with my short hair and little cap, but never
mind, I will go. The walk will do me good."And after breakfast she did go down to the church, accompanied by
her maid. The old porch was flooded with sunshine. The door was open
and the voice of the officiating clergyman was pronouncing the
blessing of the newly married pair just as Vivette entered the
church.The bride's back was turned, but there was something in the figure,
something in the attitude of the slight young lady, that arrested the
attention of Vivette. She turned round, and their eyes met. The bride
was Elaine Carruthers, and the bridegroom, Mr. James Hatton, the
defaulting clerk of Mr. Gervase Carruthers.Elaine looked wan, and haggard, and older by four years than when
she had left her home. Mr. Hatton smirked, pulled his mustache, and
actually bowed to Vivette. Elaine staggered and stared wildly. Then
all at once there rang through the church a loud scream, followed by
words at first incoherent, but which gathered force as the speaker
went on.Vivette saw a young woman, attired in a cotton gown, a little
shabby shawl, and with a very old straw hat perched on her head,
stretching out her arms and pointing at James Hatton."That's him!" she said. "My husband, mine! that married me at
Southampton under another name. There he is, my husband! Then somebody
wrote to him as if he were Lord Raven, a real live lord! Oh! sir,"
turning with clasped hands and
imploring gesture, toward the rector, "you know me, and that I have
lived this ten weeks at Mrs. Sedley's, at the 'Bull Inn,' and done the
cooking, and they let me have my little one with me! Everybody knows
my tale! How that somebody at Southampton married me and deserted me
in three weeks, and how that I could never find out who he was. And
there he stands, sir. There he stands. That's him, that's him! Oh,
don't, don't let him escape, good Christian people!"Vivette had recognized Margaret Fisher. She came forward, and said
emphatically."I have every reason to believe what that young woman states to be
true!"Mr. James Hatton had become deadly white. But he burst into a
laugh, and turning toward his newly made bride, said:"Come, Elaine, don't let that madwoman frighten you!"There was a dull, dazed look in Elaine's blue eyes, which alarmed
Vivette. She made a step toward Vivette, indeed, she caught at the
back of a pew for support, and cried out."I should be glad, glad to find I was not that man's wife. He
induced me to leave my home on pretense of a discovery he had made,
and without caring more for him than I did for one of my father's
footmen, I did meet him. Then he induced me to accompany him to the
next village, when he took me to an old country-house, where dwelt two
wicked women, who were his sisters. They then told me I had lost my
good name and compromised myself, and must marry him."I must tell you, that before all this that man had pre-sumed to make love to me, and I had
repulsed him with such disdain that he saw he could only gain my
fortune by marrying me against my will. For weeks I have been detained
a prisoner, not allowed to breathe the fresh air. Every week he has
come down here to try and terrify me into marrying him. At length,
worn out by the want of fresh air and by cruel imprisonment, I
consented. But I meant to make my escape, and tell the clergyman the
truth. That wretch told me that in that case he would have me shut up
in a lunatic asylum for life, in fact I have suffered such
terrors. Oh, Vivette, save me!"Elaine threw herself into Vivette's arms.Mr. James Hatton would certainly have taken advantage of the
confusion that ensued to make good his escape, had Margaret, his true
wife, permitted, but she rushed at him and seized him. A dozen strong
masculine hands followed up her advantage, and that very afternoon
Mr. Hatton was conveyed to a house of detention pending further
inquiries.The clergyman, with his wife, took Elaine home that very afternoon
to the house of her father in London, where she was received with open
arms.She had been guilty only of a mean desire of vengeance upon Lord
Raven. Hatton, playing upon that, had induced her to meet him at
Windsor, pretending that he had found out some disgraceful conduct of
the young nobleman's. He then took her to the house of his sisters,
and shut her up there for weeks, until she consented to marry him.The marriage with poor Margaret Fisher turned out to he genuine, so
that Mr. Hatton was prosecuted for bigamy and robbery, and had to
expiate his crimes by a term of penal servitude.Mr. Carruthers saw into Margaret's affairs. Hatton was worth some
hundreds, and these were settled upon his wife and child.Elaine was once more the heiress and the idol of father. She
entreated that Vivette might come and form a trio with herself and
Christine in the banker's house, and Mr. Carruthers was on the point
of consenting, when startling news reached them.What that news was may be inferred from what
follows.May was half-spent, and Vivette had gathered strength as the days
went on. Her plans for her future were as yet vague and indistinct,
only one thing she was quite determined upon: Her life should be as
useful, earnest, as unselfish as it had been the contrary of these
before she knew Lord Raven.It was a glorious evening, the May moon was shining in the garden,
the air was warm and balmy. Vivette threw a shawl over her shoulders,
went out and walked up and down, and then Fanny came out to her
breathless."If you please, miss, Lord Raven is here."For a moment the heart of Vivette seemed to stand still, then it
gave a great bound."Is he married to Christine?" she asked herself. She said quietly
to Fanny: "Ask him to come here!"In a few moments a tall figure crossed the moonlit lawn and stood
by her side.Both were silent for the space of a moment, and Vivette spoke
first."How is Christine, Lord Raven?""Well and strong, "Vivette, I bring you some sad [news.  Your ]father is dead, Eustace
Hillary!""You? How did you know that he--"She paused. She could only feel relief when she heard that the
tyrant of her childhood, the heartless reprobate who had broken her
mother's heart, was gone. She still felt a natural pity and a vague
yearning after what she had never possessed, a father's love and
care."I knew he was your father the day after he tried to rob the castle
and you prevented him. At your request, I let him escape, and gave him
money to keep out of the country.""He was enraged with you, just as you had dreaded he would be, and
he told me who you were, hoping I would denounce you, and cause your
so-called relations to discard you.""And you did not, because you were so kind, and you pitied me?"
said Vivette."No," he answered, "not because I pitied you. That father of yours,
or his accomplice, was the man who knocked me down and robbed me. I
knew all that, and only yesterday I received the news of his death
from my, agent abroad. I pitied you, Vivette, but there was a stronger
reason, I loved you! Will you be my wife? Will you be Countess of
Riverswood?"As he spoke he drew her close to his heart, and their lips met in a
clinging kiss."My poor father died a fortnight ago. I am Earl of Riverswood. My
heart is sad and heavy. Will you be my comforter?"true and tender and strongsouls were filled with a solemn
joy too mighty for words.THE ENDRomantic love among the aristocracy of old England, "Love Finds a
Way," one of the masterpieces of the well-known Bertha M. Clay, is
next to be published by the NEW BERTHA CLAY LIBRARY, No. 271.