Audrey

by Mary Johnston

  CHAPTER XX

  THE UNINVITED GUEST

  "Mistress Audrey?" said the Governor graciously, as the lady in damaskrose from her curtsy. "Mistress Audrey whom? Mr. Haward, you gave me notthe name of the stock that hath flowered in so beauteous a bloom."

  "Why, sir, the bloom is all in all,'" answered Haward. "What root itsprings from matters not. I trust that your Excellency is in goodhealth,--that you feel no touch of our seasoning fever?"

  "I asked the lady's name, sir," said the Governor pointedly. He wasstanding in the midst of a knot of gentlemen, members of the Council andofficers of the colony. All around the long room, seated in chairs arowagainst the walls, or gathered in laughing groups, or moving about with arustle and gleam of silk, were the Virginians his guests. From thegallery, where were bestowed the musicians out of three parishes, floatedthe pensive strains of a minuet, and in the centre of the polished floor,under the eyes of the company, several couples moved and postured throughthat stately dance.

  "The lady is my ward," said Haward lightly. "I call her Audrey. Child,tell his Excellency your other name."

  If he thought at all, he thought that she could do it. But such anestray, such a piece of flotsam, was Audrey, that she could not help himout. "They call me Darden's Audrey," she explained to the Governor. "If Iever heard my father's name, I have forgotten it."

  Her voice, though low, reached all those who had ceased from their ownconcerns to stare at this strange guest, this dark-eyed, shrinking beauty,so radiantly attired. The whisper had preceded her from the hall: therehad been fluttering and comment enough as, under the fire of all thoseeyes, she had passed with Haward to where stood the Governor receiving hisguests. But the whisper had not reached his Excellency's ears. In Londonhe had been slightly acquainted with Mr. Marmaduke Haward, and now knewhim for a member of his Council, and a gentleman of much consequence inthat Virginia which he had come to rule. Moreover, he had that verymorning granted a favor to Mr. Haward, and by reason thereof was inclinedto think amiably of the gentleman. Of the piece of dark loveliness whomthe Virginian had brought forward to present, who could think otherwise?But his Excellency was a formal man, punctilious, and cautious of hisstate. The bow with which he received the strange lady's curtsy had beenprofound; in speaking to her he had made his tones honey-sweet, while hiscompliment quite capped the one just paid to Mistress Evelyn Byrd. And nowit would appear that the lady had no name! Nay, from the looks that werebeing exchanged, and from the tittering that had risen amongst the youngerof his guests, there must be more amiss than that! His Excellency frowned,drew himself up, and turned what was meant to be a searching and terribleeye upon the recreant in white satin. Audrey caught the look, for whichHaward cared no whit. Oh, she knew that she had no business there,--shethat only the other day had gone barefoot on Darden's errands, had beenkept waiting in hall or kitchen of these people's houses! She knew that,for all her silken gown, she had no place among them; but she thought thatthey were not kind to stare and whisper and laugh, shaming her before oneanother and before him. Her heart swelled; to the dreamy misery of the dayand evening was added a passionate sense of hurt and wrong and injustice.Her pride awoke, and in a moment taught her many things, though among themwas no distrust of him. Brought to bay, she put out her hand and found agate; pushed it open, and entered upon her heritage of art.

  The change was so sudden that those who had stared at her sourly orscornfully, or with malicious amusement or some stirrings of pity, drewtheir breath and gave ground a little. Where was the shrinking,frightened, unbidden guest of a moment before, with downcast eyes andburning cheeks? Here was a proud and easy and radiant lady, with witchingeyes and a wonderful smile. "I am only Audrey, your Excellency," she said,and curtsied as she spoke. "My other name lies buried in a valley amongstfar-off mountains." She slightly turned, and addressed herself to aportly, velvet-clad gentleman, of a very authoritative air, who, arrivinglate, had just shouldered himself into the group about his Excellency. "Bytoken," she smiled, "of a gold moidore that was paid for a loaf of bread."

  The new Governor appealed to his predecessor. "What is this, ColonelSpotswood, what is this?" he demanded, somewhat testily, of theopen-mouthed gentleman in velvet.

  "Odso!" cried the latter. "'Tis the little maid of thesugar-tree!--Marmaduke Haward's brown elf grown into the queen of all thefairies!" Crossing to Audrey he took her by the hand. "My dear child," hesaid, with a benevolence that sat well upon him, "I always meant to keepan eye upon thee, to see that Mr. Haward did by thee all that he swore hewould do. But at first there were cares of state, and now for five years Ihave lived at Germanna, half way to thy mountains, where echoes from theworld seldom reach me. Permit me, my dear." With a somewhat cumbrousgallantry, the innocent gentleman, who had just come to town and knew notthe gossip thereof, bent and kissed her upon the cheek.

  Audrey curtsied with a bright face to her old acquaintance of the valleyand the long road thence to the settled country. "I have been cared for,sir," she said. "You see that I am happy."

  She turned to Haward, and he drew her hand within his arm. "Ay, child," hesaid. "We are keeping others of the company from their duty to hisExcellency. Besides, the minuet invites. I do not think I have heard musicso sweet before to-night. Your Excellency's most obedient servant!Gentlemen, allow us to pass." The crowd opened before them, and they foundthemselves in the centre of the room. Two couples were walking a minuet;when they were joined by this dazzling third, the ladies bridled, bittheir lips, and shot Parthian glances.

  It was very fortunate, thought Audrey, that the Widow Constance had once,long ago, taught her to dance, and that, when they were sent to gathernuts or myrtle berries or fagots in the woods, she and Barbara were usedto taking hands beneath the trees and moving with the glancing sunbeamsand the nodding saplings and the swaying grapevine trailers. She that haddanced to the wind in the pine tops could move with ease to the music ofthis night. And since it was so that with a sore and frightened andbreaking heart one could yet, in some strange way, become quite anotherperson,--any person that one chose to be,--these cruel folk should notlaugh at her again! They had not laughed since, before the Governoryonder, she had suddenly made believe that she was a carefree, great lady.Well, she would make believe to them still.

  Her eyes were as brilliant as Haward's that shone with fever; a smilestayed upon her lips; she moved with dignity through the stately dance,scarce erring once, graceful and fine in all that she did. Haward,enamored, his wits afire, went mechanically through the oft-trod measure,and swore to himself that he held in his hand the pearl of price, thenonpareil of earth. In this dance and under cover of the music they couldspeak to each other unheard of those about them.

  "'Queen of all the fairies,' did he call you?" he asked. "That was wellsaid. When we are at Fair View again, thou must show me where thou wonnestwith thy court, in what moonlit haunt, by what cool stream"--

  "I would I were this night at Fair View glebe house," said Audrey. "Iwould I were at home in the mountains."

  Her voice, sunken with pain and longing, was for him alone. To the otherdancers, to the crowded room at large, she seemed a brazen girl, withbeauty to make a goddess, wit to mask as a great lady, effrontery tomatch that of the gentleman who had brought her here. The age was free,and in that London which was dear to the hearts of the Virginians ladiesof damaged reputation were not so unusual a feature of fashionableentertainments as to receive any especial notice. But Williamsburgh wasnot London, and the dancer yonder, who held her rose-crowned head so high,was no lady of fashion. They knew her now for that dweller at Fair Viewgates of whom, during the summer just past, there had been whisperingenough. Evidently, it was not for naught that Mr. Marmaduke Haward hadrefused invitations, given no entertainments, shut himself up at FairView, slighting old friends and evincing no desire to make new ones. Why,the girl was a servant,--nothing more nor less; she belonged to GideonDarden, the drunken minister; she was to have married Jean Hugon, thehalf-breed trader. Look how th
e Governor, enlightened at last, glowered ather; and how red was Colonel Spotswood's face; and how Mistress EvelynByrd, sitting in the midst of a little court of her own, made witty talk,smiled upon her circle of adorers, and never glanced toward the centre ofthe room, and the dancers there!

  "You are so sweet and gay to-night," said Haward to Audrey. "Take yourpleasure, child, for it is a sad world, and the blight will fall. I loveto see you happy."

  "Happy!" she answered. "I am not happy!"

  "You are above them all in beauty," he went on. "There is not one herethat's fit to tie your shoe."

  "Oh me!" cried Audrey. "There is the lady that you love, and that lovesyou. Why did she look at me so, in the hall yonder? And yesterday, whenshe came to Mistress Stagg's, I might not touch her or speak to her! Youtold me that she was kind and good and pitiful. I dreamed that she mightlet me serve her when she came to Fair View."

  "She will never come to Fair View," he said, "nor shall I go again toWestover. I am for my own house now, you brown enchantress, and my owngarden, and the boat upon the river. Do you remember how sweet were ourdays in June? We will live them over again, and there shall come for us,besides, a fuller summer"--

  "It is winter now," said Audrey, with a sobbing breath, "and cold anddark! I do not know myself, and you are strange. I beg you to let me goaway. I wish to wash off this paint, to put on my own gown. I am no lady;you do wrong to keep me here. See, all the company are frowning at me! Theminister will hear what I have done and be angry, and Mistress Deborahwill beat me. I care not for that, but you--Oh, you have gone faraway,--as far as Fair View, as far as the mountains! I am speaking to astranger"--

  In the dance their raised hands met again. "You see me, you speak to me atlast," he said ardently. "That other, that cold brother of the snows, thatpaladin and dream knight that you yourself made and dubbed him me,--he hasgone, Audrey; nay, he never was! But I myself, I am not abhorrent to you?"

  "Oh," she answered, "it is all dark! I cannot see--I cannot understand"--

  The time allotted to minuets having elapsed, the musicians after a shortpause began to play an ancient, lively air, and a number of ladies andgentlemen, young, gayly dressed, and light of heart as of heels, engagedin a country dance. When they were joined by Mr. Marmaduke Haward and hisshameless companion, there arose a great rustling and whispering. A younggirl in green taffeta was dancing alone, wreathing in and out between thesilken, gleaming couples, coquetting with the men by means of fan andeyes, but taking hands and moving a step or two with each sister of thedance. When she approached Audrey, the latter smiled and extended herhand, because that was the way the lady nearest her had done. But the girlin green stared coldly, put her hand behind her, and, with the veryfaintest salute to Mr. Marmaduke Haward, danced on her way. For one momentthe smile died on Audrey's lips; then it came resolutely back, and sheheld her head high.

  The men, forming in two rows, drew their rapiers with a flourish, and,crossing them overhead, made an arch of steel under which the women mustpass. Haward's blade touched that of an old acquaintance. "I have beenleaning upon the back of a lady's chair," said the latter gruffly, undercover of the music and the clashing steel,--"a lady dressed in rose color,who's as generous (to all save one poor devil) as she is fair. I promisedher I would take her message; the Lord knows I would go to the bottom ofthe sea to give her pleasure! She says that you are not yourself; begsthat you will--go quietly away"--

  An exclamation from the man next him, and a loud murmur mixed with somelaughter from those in the crowded room who were watching the dancers,caused the gentleman to break off in the middle of his message. He glancedover his shoulder; then, with a shrug, turned to his vis-a-vis in whitesatin. "Now you see that 'twill not answer,--not in Virginia. Thewomen--bless them!--have a way of cutting Gordian knots."

  A score of ladies, one treading in the footsteps of another, should havepassed beneath the flashing swords. But there had thrust itself into theircompany a plague spot, and the girl in green taffeta and a matron insilver brocade, between whom stood the hateful presence, indignantlystepped out of line and declined to dance. The fear of infection spreadinglike wildfire, the ranks refused to close, and the company was thrown intoconfusion. Suddenly the girl in green, by nature a leader of her kind,walked away, with a toss of her head, from the huddle of those who wereuncertain what to do, and joined her friends among the spectators, whoreceived her with acclaim. The sound and her example were warranty enoughfor the cohort she had quitted. A moment, and it was in virtuous retreat,and the dance was broken up.

  The gentlemen, who saw themselves summarily deserted, abruptly loweredtheir swords. One laughed; another, flown with wine, gave utterance tosome coarse pleasantry; a third called to the musicians to stop the music.Darden's Audrey stood alone, brave in her beautiful borrowed dress and thecolor that could not leave her cheeks. But her lips had whitened, thesmile was gone, and her eyes were like those of a hunted deer. She lookedmutely about her: how could she understand, who trusted so completely, wholived in a labyrinth without a clue, who had built her dream world sosecurely that she had left no way of egress for herself? These were cruelpeople! She was mad to get away, to tear off this strange dress, to flingherself down in the darkness, in the woods, hiding her face against theearth! But though she was only Audrey and so poor a thing, she had for herportion a dignity and fineness of nature that was a stay to her steps.Barbara, though not so poor and humble a maid, might have burst intotears, and run crying from the room and the house; but to do that Audreywould have been ashamed.

  "It was you, Mr. Corbin, that laughed, I think?" said Haward. "To-morrow Ishall send to know the reason of your mirth. Mr. Everard, you will answerto me for that pretty oath. Mr. Travis, there rests the lie that youuttered just now: stoop and take it again." He flung his glove at Mr.Travis's feet.

  A great hubbub and exclamation arose. Mr. Travis lifted the glove with thepoint of his rapier, and in a loud voice repeated the assertion which hadgiven umbrage to Mr. Haward of Fair View. That gentleman sprang unsteadilyforward, and the blades of the two crossed in dead earnest. A moment, andthe men were forced apart; but by this time the whole room was incommotion. The musicians craned their necks over the gallery rail, a womanscreamed, and half a dozen gentlemen of years and authority started fromthe crowd of witnesses to the affair and made toward the centre of theroom, with an eye to preventing further trouble. Where much wine had beendrunken and twenty rapiers were out, matters might go from bad to worse.

  Another was before them. A lady in rose color had risen from her chair andglided across the polished floor to the spot where trouble was brewing."Gentlemen, for shame!" she cried. Her voice was bell-like in its clearsweetness, final in its grave rebuke and its recall to sense and decency.She was Mistress Evelyn Byrd, who held sovereignty in Virginia, and at thesound of her voice, the command of her raised hand, the clamor suddenlyceased, and the angry group, parting, fell back as from the presence ofits veritable queen.

  Evelyn went up to Audrey and took her by the hand. "I am not tired ofdancing, as were those ladies who have left us," she said, with a smile,and in a sweet and friendly voice. "See, the gentlemen are waiting I Letus finish out this measure, you and me."

  At her gesture of command the lines that had so summarily brokenre-formed. Back into the old air swung the musicians; up went the swords,crossing overhead with a ringing sound, and beneath the long arch ofprotecting steel moved to the music the two women, the dark beauty and thefair, the princess and the herdgirl. Evelyn led, and Audrey, following,knew that now indeed she was walking in a dream.

  A very few moments, and the measure was finished. A smile, a curtsy, awave of Evelyn's hand, and the dancers, disbanding, left the floor. Mr.Corbin, Mr. Everard, and Mr. Travis, each had a word to say to Mr. Hawardof Fair View, as they passed that gentleman.

  Haward heard, and answered to the point; but when presently Evelyn said,"Let us go into the garden," and he found himself moving with her and withAudrey through the buzzin
g, staring crowd toward the door of theGovernor's house, he thought that it was into Fair View garden they wereabout to descend. And when they came out upon the broad, torchlit walk,and he saw gay parties of ladies and gentlemen straying here and therebeneath the trees, he thought it strange that he had forgotten that he hadguests this night. As for the sound of the river below his terrace, he hadnever heard so loud a murmur. It grew and filled the night, making thinand far away the voices of his guests.

  There was a coach at the gates, and Mr. Grymes, who awhile ago had toldhim that he had a message to deliver, was at the coach door. Evelyn hadher hand upon his arm, and her voice was speaking to him from as far awayas across the river. "I am leaving the ball," it said, "and I will takethe girl in my coach to the place where she is staying. Promise me thatyou will not go back to the house yonder; promise me that you will go awaywith Mr. Grymes, who is also weary of the ball"--

  "Oh," said Mr. Grymes lightly, "Mr. Haward agrees with me that Marot'sbest room, cool and quiet, a bottle of Burgundy, and a hand at piquet aremore alluring than the heat and babel we have left. We are going at once,Mistress Evelyn. Haward, I propose that on our way to Marot's we knock upDr. Contesse, and make him free of our company."

  As he spoke, he handed into the coach the lady in flowered damask, who hadheld up her head, but said no word, and the lady in rose-colored brocade,who, through the length of the ballroom and the hall and the broad walkwhere people passed and repassed, had kept her hand in Audrey's, and hadtalked, easily and with smiles, to the two attending gentlemen. He shut tothe coach door, and drew back, with a low bow, when Haward's deeplyflushed, handsome face appeared for a moment at the lowered glass.

  "Art away to Westover, Evelyn?" he asked. "Then 't is 'Good-by,sweetheart!' for I shall not go to Westover again. But you have a fairroad to travel,--there are violets by the wayside; for it is May Day, youknow, and the woods are white with dogwood and purple with the Judas-tree.The violets are for you; but the great white blossoms, and the boughs ofrosy mist, and all the trees that wave in the wind are for Audrey." Hiseyes passed the woman whom he would have wed, and rested upon hercompanion in the coach. "Thou fair dryad!" he said. "Two days hence wewill keep tryst beneath the beech-tree in the woods beyond the glebehouse."

  The man beside him put a hand upon his shoulder and plucked him back, norwould look at Evelyn's drawn and whitened face, but called to the coachmanto go on. The black horses put themselves into motion, the equipage made awide turn, and the lights of the Palace were left behind.

  Evelyn lodged in a house upon the outskirts of the town, but from thePalace to Mistress Stagg's was hardly more than a stone's throw. Not untilthe coach was drawing near the small white house did either of the womenspeak. Then Audrey broke into an inarticulate murmur, and stooping wouldhave pressed her cheek against the hand that had clasped hers only alittle while before. But Evelyn snatched her hand away, and with a gestureof passionate repulsion shrank into her corner of the coach. "Oh, how dareyou touch me!" she cried. "How dare you look at me, you serpent that havestung me so!" Able to endure no longer, she suddenly gave way to angrylaughter. "Do you think I did it for you,--put such humiliation uponmyself for you? Why, you wanton, I care not if you stand in white atevery church door in Virginia! It was for him, for Mr. Marmaduke Haward ofFair View, for whose name and fame, if he cares not for them himself, hisfriends have yet some care!" The coach stopped, and the footman opened thedoor. "Descend, if you please," went on Evelyn clearly and coldly. "Youhave had your triumph. I say not there is no excuse for him,--you are verybeautiful. Good-night."

  Audrey stood between the lilac bushes and watched the coach turn fromPalace into Duke of Gloucester Street; then went and knocked at the greendoor. It was opened by Mistress Stagg in person, who drew her into theparlor, where the good-natured woman had been sitting all alone, and inincreasing alarm as to what might be the outcome of this whim of Mr.Marmaduke Haward's. Now she was full of inquiries, ready to admire and tonod approval, or to shake her head and cry, "I told you so!" according tothe turn of the girl's recital.

  But Audrey had little to say, little to tell. Yes, oh yes, it had been avery grand sight.... Yes, Mr. Haward was kind; he had always been kind toher.... She had come home with Mistress Evelyn Byrd in her coach.... Mightshe go now to her room? She would fold the dress very carefully.

  Mistress Stagg let her go, for indeed there was no purpose to be served inkeeping her, seeing that the girl was clearly dazed, spoke without knowingwhat she said, and stood astare like one of Mrs. Salmon's beautiful wasladies. She would hear all about it in the morning, when the child hadslept off her excitement. They at the Palace couldn't have taken herpresence much amiss, or she would never in the world have come home in theWestover coach.