A Heart-Song of To-day Part 24

"Yes, we are due there, and make an exception of their ball, we are such friends, but go to no more crushes presided over by Terpsich.o.r.e while _a Paris_. _Au revoir_."

CHAPTER XIX.

FOR A FAIR WOMAN FACE.

"What an irrepressible fellow Everly is," thought Trevalyon, as he sauntered along the avenue towards his hotel; having heard his question to Vaura (as to the ball), "he manages to get a card for everything. I should not regret his departure for anywhere; our little _coterie_ was perfect without him. Vaura is extremely lovely and fascinating, she, of course, is the magnet that draws him; what a presumptuous little poppet he is, a mere fortune-hunter, hanger-on of society to dare turn his eyes in her direction. But am I not taking too deep an interest in this sweet Vaura Vernon. I must guard my heart; she is a flirt, I must beware. Another tender billet from Mrs.

Haughton, and full of this hidden-wife falsehood; I have been careless, never even having told Haughton the truth of the matter.

Every seven years, it seems to me, there is a rehash of by-gone villifications; one must only grin and bear it, but I do feel it terribly just now, not because it is what it always was, 'a lie direct,' but because of my close companions.h.i.+p with my dear friend and bewitching Vaura."

Let us now follow small Everly, and read some of his thoughts; with rapid steps he is soon at his destination, where, seating himself in a huge easy chair which almost hides his small body, draws a table to his side, on which are placed his pipe, gla.s.s of punch, with some letters.

"Gad, a missive from Aunt Martha," he exclaimed. "Whether it be sugar or vinegar it will keep until I do the others."

One was from his lawyer telling him the Jews were after him; with a muttered exclamation of "they must wait," he threw it aside. The others were from acquaintances--mere chit-chat; "and now for the old girls," he thought, which on opening a bank draft for L50 dropped out.

"Gad! almost a holocaust," he said, picking it from the dying embers in the grate. "And now for the letter."

"MY DEAR NEPHEW,--Enclosed you will find a draft for fifty pounds; it is extremely inconvenient to remit you even such a small sum, but I promised your mother on her death-bed to give you all the a.s.sistance in our power, as also did your sister Amy; and so please heaven we shall, as we are quite aware that the trifle you inherit from your father is extremely small for the maintenance of an English baronet.

Moreover, considering it an honour to the house of Morton that an Everly should have linked himself thereto, we have decided to let you have Johnston's rent for the future, and regularly. But, dear nephew, remember you cannot afford to make a mere love-match; you must marry an heiress. Your setter Hecate has had pups, which we shall nurse tenderly for you, as they represent money. But the school bell rings me away, and, dear nephew, from you I go with my pupils into the mysteries of pounds, s.h.i.+llings and pence. You will laugh and say you and they are always a.s.sociated in my mind; and it is so, for, you are both things of worth. When you marry some rich young lady (you know whom I tell you you can win), I shall pay a master to take the arithmetic cla.s.s. Make your old aunts glad with the news of a wealthy marriage being arranged for you. Acknowledge draft.

"With much love, from your affectionate Aunt, "MARTHA MORTON.

"Sir Tilton Everly, "Paris, Hotel European, 2nd Nov., 1887."

"It will please the aunts if I write instanter, so here goes."

"DEAR AUNT MARTHA,--Draft received, came in handy, can a.s.sure you. You are a jolly pair of relations for a fellow to have; never wanted the needful more. I know I shall have to marry money; I expect I guess correctly as to the girl you mean, but tallow candles are out of fas.h.i.+on. I know the gilding is thick, and debts are a bother. But you never fear for Tilton, he may yet win a glorious beauty and great expectations from a t.i.tled relation. Eureka! I can tell you; aunts you have no idea what a fuss society makes over me. Glad Hecate has done something for a living, or rather for mine. Goodnight or morning, for it is one a.m.

"Your devoted Nephew, "TILTON EVERLY.

"Miss Morton's Seminary, "Bayswater, Suburbs, London Eng.

Nov., 5th, 1877."

"Yes, 'pon my life, the old girls are right, I must have the sovereign for my name; pity I was born with a taste for the beautiful; my father was wanting in forethought on my account, or he would never have wed penniless Rose Morton; here am I over head and ears in love with a peerless beauty, with not much or not enough of the needful to keep us both in style; there is not a doubt though that she will inherit from that stately G.o.dmother of hers. Never say die, Tilton, my boy; she smiled on you to-night, go in and win; why, the very thought of her sends the blood dancing through my veins; splendid figure, perfect as a Venus. She knows naught of my relations to that young schemer, and if my love by a stern fate says nay, she is too much accustomed to conquests to boast; and the other who is ready to marry me any day will, never know anything to erect her spine about; a week from tonight the de Hauteville ball, I shall there know the best or worst; if I fail it won't be because of aught wanting in myself, but because I cannot win over the Lady of Esmondet; then, if so, I shall hide my groans under an M.P., and the gold of my lemon-face, to whom I shall not exactly play count to her, Miss Kilmansegg, for I could not act such a villain's part; but I must have some hobby to ride, to make up for the sacrifice of self; and now to bed and sleep or dream."

CHAPTER XX.

QUICKENED HEART-BEATS.

On the morning of the de Hauteville ball, Trevalyon broke his fast somewhat earlier than usual, purposing to indulge in a long ride. In pa.s.sing the salon of Lady Esmondet and Vaura, the door of which had been pushed open by his dog Mars half an hour previously. Trevalyon made a momentary pause, he could not see Lady Esmondet through the opening, only our sweet Vaura, who listening to her G.o.dmother, idly ate of some fresh fruit, while the other fair hand caressed Mars. She looked a very child of the morning, so charmingly bright, in a pale blue quilted satin dressing gown, with low turned down collar; not wis.h.i.+ng to interrupt her G.o.dmother who read aloud an English letter she spoke to Trevalyon silently, standing in the opening door-way, only with the eyes and her own syren smile; the temptation to linger was too much for him, and he was about to enter when turning, as he heard a step coming quickly along the corridor from the visitors grand elevator, saw Sir Tilton coming towards him carrying a huge bouquet.

And knowing for whom it was intended, preferring not to be a witness to the presentation with a "_Bonjour_, Everly," and "How do, Trevalyon;" they went their different ways, the one into the light of woman's eyes, the other into the lights of the streets of Paris.

Sir Tilton, with a laughing "Any admittance to a devoted subject," and a gay _entrez_ from Vaura was in the boudoir.

"I thought I heard Captain Trevalyon's voice; was he not with you?"

enquired Lady Esmondet as she shook hands with Everly.

"Yes, Lady Esmondet, he was outside and lingered a moment, but was able to resist the temptation to enter to which I had to succ.u.mb,"

with an admiring glance at Vaura.

After half an hour spent in gay chit-chat, Lady Esmondet, consulting her watch, reminded Vaura of their purposed drive; and with a promise asked by Sir Tilton, and given by Vaura, that she would wear one of his flowers on that evening, they parted.

In a short time Lady Esmondet and Vaura were seen driving along the fas.h.i.+onable parks and streets of Paris, and no carriage attracted more attention than the one in which they were seated. They met many friends and acquaintances among whom were Mr. and Mrs. Eustace Wingfield.

"One does not often see them together," said Lady Esmondet. "Still, I am sure, they suit each other better than most married people."

"What a queer world it is," remarked Vaura; "even _ma chere_ G.o.dmother is rather cynical as regards the happiness of most married lives. What is the reason of it all? Is it that man who, as Charles Reade says, is 'born to hunt something,' is no longer happy when the chase is over.

And woman, what of her? Is it that 'tis only the excitement of the hunt we care for, that our heart has no part in the matter."

"You know the world, Vaura, and you know you are right--still you will marry, and be happy; for your heart will go with your hand, and you know your power to make the man you will love happy."

"Sympathy, soul-felt and earnest, is more than love which sometimes changes, or pa.s.sion and fancy which always evaporate," answered Vaura, seriously; "but," she added, "who, among the b.u.t.terflies of to-day, cares for all this: A. marries B., because he can give her a t.i.tle; B.

marries A., because she brings him money--it's all a debit and credit system."

"Yes, Vaura, dear, Tennyson says truly, 'we men are a little breed.'"

But a warmer light deepens in Vaura's eyes as a vision of a handsome face, wearing at times a weary look, flashes across her memory, and she thinks some men are worth loving, and are not of the "little breed."

"What a bold-looking woman; I wonder who she is," said Lady Esmondet.

"She's pa.s.sed us several times; that was an aristocratic man beside her, and quite a youth. She wears her rouge too extravagantly."

"She has yet to come to the knowledge that she's anybody," answered Vaura, contemptously; "looks to me like greed and vice, and man is not the worse animal of the two."

"Thanks, Miss Vernon," said the voice of Trevalyon, riding up beside the carriages as he lifted his hat.

"Thanks, though it is rather a doubtful compliment, for I am all at sea as to what animal you are so kind as to give us the preference to."

"I don't know that I shall tell you, Captain Trevalyon, for you men make it your boast, that we only are curious."

Here the same smart turn-out, with its pair of beautiful bays come again towards them, and to the surprise of Lady Esmondet and Vaura, the woman smiled and nodded to Trevalyon. Vaura turning quickly towards him, saw that he took no notice of the recognition and that his face wore a stern look.

Everly driving with a friend, pa.s.sed them at the moment, saw the nod and smile and of how they were received. "That little smile from Ninon Tournette, puts a spoke into your wheel, my fine fellow," he thought; "no matter though your face did look as though hewn out of stone."

Aloud he said, "Miss Vernon will see he is donning the garb of modesty in her honour."

"So Vernon is Mademoiselle's name," said his friend de Vesey; "I saw her at the theatre the other night, and by the lilies of France, she is lovely enough to make a man play the saint for one look from her eyes."

There was a second or two of rather an awkward pause which Lady Esmondet broke by saying--

"The bays are lovely, but I'd rather keep the woman at bay, Lionel; or perhaps she thought you an acquaintance."