Mabel Volume Ii Part 19

"Nothing!" said Clair, "nothing! when I found her in the Park, lying in his arms in a fainting fit--scoundrel."

"And you have brought her home?"

"Yes; she came very willingly when I asked her. What had pa.s.sed I cannot divine, but if she does not know the truth already, the sooner she does, no doubt, the better. Have you seen Miss Lesly?"

"Yes; she promised to keep watch for her, and they are together by this time."

"So far so good, then," said Clair, endeavouring to compose himself into his naturally careless air, "now for Beauclerc--I declare," he added, brus.h.i.+ng his hand angrily over his eyes, "it almost unmans me to see a woman in distress."

"And yet, my dear Arthur," said Hargrave, laying his hand kindly on his shoulder, "I fear you are not guiltless."

"Well, if I have given her pain, n.o.body else shall. Come Hargrave, will you go to him, I can trust no one so implicitly as I can you."

"If you are determined on meeting him, I will go, certainly, but only consider, first, how little right you have to take up her quarrel, and the unnecessary publicity you give to the affair."

"With regard to that, how, I cannot tell, but, depend upon it, before to-morrow night, the affair will be discussed in every _coterie_ in the town."

"What do you require, then?" said Hargrave, taking up his hat.

"The most ample apology."

"And who shall I say you are--a friend of the family?"

"Never mind that--he knows me, I was his friend once, and he will not enquire into my right to question his motives."

"Very well then, wait for me in your rooms at the Lion, and I will join you directly."

"I have seen him--stay, where is he?"

"We are both at the Lion, so we will walk there together," said Clair, following him into the street.

A few minutes walk brought them to the hotel, and, parting at the public entrance, Clair proceeded to his room, while Hargrave sent in his card to Beauclerc.

He was immediately admitted.

Beauclerc was standing by the table, his face expressing much internal agitation, while his usual self-possessed air was entirely gone.

Hargrave, on the contrary, was perfectly cool, but very grave, as he bowed to him somewhat stiffly, and said, courteously--

"My friend, Captain Clair, was--"

"I know what you would say, Colonel Hargrave," interrupted Beauclerc, quickly, "he would ask me for an explanation of the strange circ.u.mstances under which he met me this morning--I will not ask what right he has to question my conduct--I am too angry with myself to seek to take shelter under any such subterfuge--I have done wrong, I now see, but how to atone for that I cannot tell."

"I fear there is no atonement to be made, except the poor satisfaction of an open explanation and apology."

"That I am most ready to make," replied Beauclerc, with unaffected sadness, "and I wish I had more to offer."

He then hurried over what he had repeated before to Lucy, while Hargrave listened with that acute attention which seldom failed to give him an insight into the characters of those about him, when he chose to exercise it.

"Miss Lucy Villars," said Beauclerc, in conclusion, "was the first acquaintance I made here, and, knowing her to be the intimate friend, nay, almost the only admitted friend of my wife, I looked upon her with peculiar interest--not for an instant doubting her knowledge of the connection existing between her friend and myself, from the readiness with which she fell into my confidence--and, indeed, from her replies to all my allusions to the subject. Believing that she knew me to be a married man, I never (pardon my alluding to this subject,) thought the attention she bestowed upon me any other than that, which love for her friend, and pity for my situation, called for."

"Are you sincere in that?" said Hargrave suddenly, changing his tone of courteous attention to deeper earnestness, as, with his dark eyes fixed upon him, he waited his answer.

"I am," returned Beauclerc, decidedly.

"And you were not aware of the danger in which you placed a young girl of ardent imagination?"

"I might, had I considered; but I did not consider."

"And I may suppose myself warranted in conveying to my friend this explanation, together with the fullest apology for the mischief you have unknowingly caused."

"Most certainly."

"Then, sir," said Hargrave, rising, "however deeply I may regret the mistake which has arisen between you and Miss Villars, I feel bound to offer my testimony to the sincerity of your purpose."

"Thank you, thank you," cried Beauclerc; "where I was wrong, was, perhaps, in believing the possibility of a friends.h.i.+p of so much warmth existing between a young girl of singular attraction, and myself, a married man."

"Why, yes," replied Hargrave, sternly; "I am not a married man myself, yet I have my own peculiar, and, perhaps, very strict notions of the duties of married life, which would scarcely admit of the freedom you have allowed yourself."

"You open my eyes," said Beauclerc, as if a sudden idea had occurred to him; but then, remembering he was speaking to a stranger, he colored, and was silent.

Hargrave, unwilling to intrude on his private confidence, by any further remark, immediately wished him good morning, extending his hand, as he did so. Beauclerc shook it warmly, thanking him for his patience and temper, and, with many repeated a.s.surances of regret, suffered him to withdraw.

He immediately went to Clair, who was waiting for him, with some impatience, and, in a few words, repeated the subject of his interview.

"There," he said, in conclusion, "I have done my best, and so I think have you. It is as I suspected--Beauclerc had really no intention of doing harm--and Lucy would have suffered none, had she not jumped to the conclusion that, of course, he admired her. We cannot, with the best will in the world to serve her, atone for the consequences of her own folly--and this, I fear, she has displayed in the whole affair. What a pity it is that girls possessing so many natural attractions should not wait to be sought."

"A great pity, indeed," said Clair; "I know few girls who would be more attractive than Lucy Villars, if she had but the one necessary appendage--sterling principle."

"Perhaps, it may be so," said Hargrave, "and if she had, besides, a greater, and a less reliance, on her own powers. But we have had excitement enough for one morning in settling her affairs. I am going into the country, will you walk with me?"

"Willingly," said Clare, taking his hat and stick.

And the two young men sallied forth together for a long country excursion.

CHAPTER XVII.

Oh, pa.s.s not, pa.s.s not, heedless by, Perhaps thou canst redeem The breaking heart from misery, Go, share thy lot with him.

When Lucy reached her own room, she found Mabel waiting there--but without taking any notice of her, she sunk down upon her bed, and remained gloomily silent.

Mabel offered no consolation, for there is a dignity in grief which calls for something like respect; she, therefore, busied herself in getting the chamber restored to something like order, that Lucy might not be disturbed; and as soon as she heard her aunt stirring, she went to her, though most reluctantly, to communicate as much as she knew of the morning's adventure. As she antic.i.p.ated, she had to bear the brunt of her wrath, for Mrs. Villars, with the unreasonable temper of disappointment, was almost ready to blame _her_ for the whole occurrence. Mabel, however, listened to her patiently, glad to s.h.i.+eld the unhappy Lucy from the angry observations which she had herself to endure. She then returned to her cousin, and remained with her for the rest of the day--though there seemed very little to repay this patient attention to her feelings. Lucy turned with peevishness from her sisters, when they either offered their pity, or attempted to gratify their curiosity, and they soon left her to herself.

For the last few weeks, her spirits had been kept up to an unnatural pitch of excitement, and she had danced late, and walked early, without shewing the slightest fatigue; but now her nerves suffered from reaction; and sleepless nights, and fatiguing days, all seemed to oppress her then; and before that evening had closed in, her burning brow, which could scarcely find rest upon the pillow--her parched lips, and feverish pulse, frightened her companion, and she hastened to Mrs.

Villars, begging her, that she might be allowed to send for a doctor.