by Duchess
CHAPTER II.
Every day and all day long there is nothing but rehearsing. In everycorner two or more may be seen studying together the parts they have toplay. Florence Delmaine alone refuses to rehearse her part except infull company, though Mr. Dynecourt has made many attempts to induce herto favor him with a private reading of those scenes in which he and shemust act together. He has even appealed to Dora Talbot to help him inthis matter, which she is only too willing to do, as she is secretlydesirous of flinging the girl as much in his way as possible. Indeedanything that would keep Florence out of Sir Adrian's sight would bewelcome to her; so that she listens kindly to Arthur Dynecourt when hesolicits her assistance.
"She evidently shuns me," he says in an aggrieved tone to her oneevening, sinking into the seat beside hers. "Except a devotion to herthat is singularly sincere, I know of nothing about me that can beregarded by her as an offense. Yet it appears to me that she dislikesme."
"There I am sure you are wrong," declares the widow, tapping his armlightly with her fan. "She is but a girl--she hardly knows her own mind."
"She seems to know it pretty well when Adrian addresses her," he says,with a sullen glance.
At this Mrs. Talbot can not repress a start; she grows a little pale,and then tries to hide her confusion by a smile. But the smile isforced, and Arthur Dynecourt, watching her, reads her heart as easilyas if it were an open book.
"I don't suppose Adrian cares for her," he goes on quietly. "Atleast"--here he drops his eyes--"I believe, with a little judiciousmanagement, his thoughts might be easily diverted into another channel."
"You think so?" asks Mrs. Talbot faintly, trifling with her fan. "I cannot say I have noticed that his attentions to her have been in any wayparticular."
"Not as yet," agrees Dynecourt, studying her attentively; "and if Imight be open with you," he adds, breaking off abruptly and assuming anair of anxiety--"we might perhaps mutually help each other."
"Help each other?"
"Dear Mrs. Talbot," says Dynecourt softly, "has it never occurred to youhow safe a thing it would be for my cousin Sir Adrian to marry asensible woman--a woman who understands the world and its ways--a womanyoung and beautiful certainly, but yet conversant with the _convenances_of society? Such a woman would rescue Adrian from the shoals andquicksands that surround him in the form of mercenary friends andscheming mothers. Such a woman might surely be found. Nay, I thinkI myself could put my hand upon her, if I dared, at this moment."
Mrs. Talbot trembles slightly, and blushes a good deal, but says nothing.
"He is my nearest of kin," goes on Dynecourt, in the same low impassivevoice. "Naturally I am interested in him, and my interest on this pointis surely without motive; as, were he never to marry, were he to leaveno heir, were he to die some sudden death"--here a remarkable changeoverspreads his features--"I should inherit all the land you see aroundyou, and the title besides."
Mrs. Talbot is still silent. She merely bows her head in assent.
"Then, you see, I mean kindly toward him when I suggest that he shouldmarry some one calculated to sustain his rank in the world," continuesDynecourt. "As I have said before, I know one who would fill theposition charmingly, if she would deign to do so."
"And who?" falters Dora Talbot nervously.
"May I say to whom I allude?" he murmurs. "Mrs. Talbot, pardon me if Ihave been impertinent in thinking of you as that woman."
A little flickering smile adorns Dora's lips for a moment, then,suddenly remembering that smiles do not become her, she relapses intoher former calm.
"You flatter me," she says sweetly.
"I never flatter," he responds, with telling emphasis. "But, I can seeyou are not angry, and so I am emboldened to say plainly, I would gladlysee you my cousin's wife. Is the idea not altogether abhorrent to you?"
"No. Oh, no!"
"It is perhaps--pardon me if I go too far--even agreeable to you?"
"Mr. Dynecourt," says Mrs. Talbot, suddenly glancing at him and layingher jeweled fingers lightly on his arm, "I will confess to you that I amtired of being alone--dependent on myself, as it were--thrown on my ownjudgment for the answering of every question that arises. I would gladlyacknowledge a superior head. I would have some one to help me now andthen with a word of advice; in short, I would have a husband. And,"--hereshe lays her fan against her lips and glances archly at him--"I confesstoo that I like Sir Adrian as--well--as well as any man I know."
"He is a very fortunate man"--gravely. "I would he knew his happiness."
"Not for worlds," says Mrs. Talbot, with well-feigned alarm. "You wouldnot even hint to him such a thing as--as--" She stops, confused.
"I shall hint nothing--do nothing, except what you wish. Ah, Mrs.Talbot"--with a heavy sigh--"you are supremely happy! I envy you! Withyour fascinations and"--insinuatingly--"a word in season from me, I seeno reason why you should not claim as your own the man whom you--well,let us say, like; while I--"
"If I can befriend you in any way," interrupts Dora quickly, "commandme."
She is indeed quite dazzled by the picture he has painted before hereyes. Can it be--is it--possible, that Sir Adrian may some day be hers?Apart from his wealth, she regards him with very tender feelings, and oflate she has been rendered at times absolutely miserable by the thoughtthat he has fallen a victim to the charms of Florence.
Now if, by means of this man, her rival can be kept out of Adrian's way,all may yet be well, and her host may be brought to her feet before hervisit comes to an end.
Of Arthur Dynecourt's infatuation for Florence she is fully aware, andis right in deeming that part of his admiration for the beautiful girlhas grown out of his knowledge of her money-bags. Still, she argues toherself, his love is true and faithful, despite his knowledge of her_dot_, and he will in all probability make her as good a husband as sheis likely to find.
"May I command you?" asks Arthur, in his softest tones. "You know mysecret, I believe. Ever since that last meeting at Brighton, when myheart overcame me and made me show my sentiments openly and in yourpresence, you have been aware of the hopeless passion that is consumingme. I may be mad, but I still think that, with opportunities and time, Imight make myself at least tolerated by Miss Delmaine. Will you help mein this matter? Will you give me the chance of pleading my cause withher alone? By so doing"--with a meaning smile--"you will also give mycousin the happy chance of seeing you alone."
Dora only too well understands his insinuation. Latterly Sir Adrianand Florence have been almost inseparable. To now meet with one whoseinterest it is to keep them asunder is very pleasant to her.
"I will help you," she says in a low tone.
"Then try to induce Miss Delmaine to give me a private rehearsalto-morrow in the north gallery," he whispers hurriedly, seeing CaptainRingwood and Miss Villiers approaching. "Hush! Not another word! I relyupon you. Above all things, remember that what has occurred is onlybetween you and me. It is our little plot," he says, with a curioussmile that somehow strikes a chill to Mrs. Talbot's heart.
She is faithful to her word nevertheless, and late that night, when allhave gone to their rooms, she puts on her dressing-gown, dismisses hermaid, and crossing the corridor, taps lightly at the door of Florence'sapartment.
Hearing some one cry "Come in," she opens the door, and, having fastenedit again, goes over to where Florence is sitting while her maid isbrushing her long soft hair that reaches almost to the ground as shesits.
"Let me brush your hair to-night, Flo," she says gayly. "Let me be yourmaid for once. Remember how I used to do it for you sometimes when wewere in Switzerland last year."
"Very well--you may," acquiesces Florence, laughing. "Good-night,Parkins. Mrs. Talbot has won you your release."
Parkins having gladly withdrawn, Dora takes up the ivory-handled brushand gently begins to brush her cousin's hair.
After some preliminary conversation leading up to the subject she hasin hand, she says carelessly--
"By the bye, Flo,
you are rather uncivil to Arthur Dynecourt, don't youthink?"
"Uncivil?"
"Well--yes. That is the word for your behavior toward him, I think. Doyou know, I am afraid Sir Adrian has noticed it, and aren't you afraidhe will think it rather odd of you--rude, I mean--considering he is hiscousin?"
"Not a very favorite cousin, I fancy."
"For all that, people don't like seeing their relations slighted. I onceknew a man who used to abuse his brother all day long, but, if any oneelse happened to say one disparaging word of him in his presence, it puthim in a pretty rage. And, after all, poor Arthur has done nothing todeserve actual ill-treatment at your hands."
"I detest him. And, besides, it is a distinct impertinence to follow anyone about from place to place as he has followed me. I will not submitto it calmly. It is a positive persecution."
"My dear, you must not blame him if he has lost his head about you. Thatis rather a compliment, if anything."
"I shall always resent such compliments."
"He is certainly very gentlemanly in all other ways, and I must saydevoted to you. He is handsome too, is he not; and has quite the air ofone accustomed to command in society?"
"Has he paid you to sing his praises?" asks Florence, with a littlelaugh; but her words so nearly hit the mark that Dora blushes painfully.
"I mean," she explains at last, in a rather hurried way, "that I do notthink it is good form to single out any one in a household where one isa guest to show him pointed rudeness. You give all the others acting inthis play ample opportunities of rehearsing alone with you. It has beenremarked to me by two or three that you purposely slight and avoid Mr.Dynecourt."
"So I do," Florence admits calmly; adding, "Your two or three have greatperspicacity."
"They even hinted to me," Dora goes on deliberately, "that your disliketo him arose from the fact that you were piqued at his being your stagelover, instead of--Sir Adrian!"
It costs her an effort to utter these words, but the effect produced bythem is worth the effort.
Florence, growing deadly pale, releases her hair from her cousin'sgrasp, and rises quickly to her feet.
"I don't know who your gossips may be," she says slowly; "but they arewrong--quite wrong--do you hear? My dislike to Mr. Dynecourt arises fromvery different feelings. He is distasteful to me in many ways; but, as Iam undesirous that my manner should give occasion for surmises such asyou have just mentioned to me, I will give him an opportunity ofreciting his part to me, alone, as soon as ever he wishes."
"I think you are right, dearest," responds Mrs. Talbot sweetly. She isa little afraid of her cousin, but still maintains her position bravely."It is always a mark of folly to defy public opinion. Do not wait forhim to ask you again to go through your play with him alone, but tellhim yourself to-morrow that you will meet him for that purpose in thenorth gallery some time during the day."
"Very well," says Florence; but her face still betrays dislike anddisinclination to the course recommended. "And, Dora, I don't think Iwant my hair brushed any more, thanks; my head is aching so dreadfully."
This is a hint that she will be glad of Mrs. Talbot's speedy departure;and, that lady taking the hint, Florence is soon left to her ownthoughts.
The next morning, directly after breakfast, she finds an opportunity totell Mr. Dynecourt that she will give him half an hour in the northgallery to try over his part with her, as she considers it will bebetter, and more conducive to the smoothness of the piece, to learnany little mannerisms that may belong to either of them.
To this speech Dynecourt makes a suitable reply, and names a particularhour for them to meet. Miss Delmaine, having given a grave assent tothis arrangement, moves away, as though glad to be rid of her companion.
A few minutes afterward Dynecourt, meeting Mrs. Talbot in the hall,gives her an expressive glance, and tells her in a low voice that heconsiders himself deeply in her debt.
