by Elinor Glyn
XIX
Harrowfield House, as every one knows, is one of the finest in London;and with the worst manners, and an inordinate insolence, LadyHarrowfield ruled her section of society with a rod of iron. Indeed, allsections coveted the invitations of this disagreeable lady.
Her path was strewn with lovers, and protected by a proud and complacenthusband, who had realized early he never would be master of thesituation, and had preferred peace to open scandal.
She was a woman of sixty now, and, report said, still had her lapses.But every incident was carried off with a high-handed, brazen daring,and an assumption of right and might and prerogative which paralyzedcriticism.
So it was that with the record of a _demimondaine_--and not one kindaction to her credit--Lady Harrowfield still held her place among thespotless, and ruled as a queen.
There was not above two years' difference between her age and LadyBracondale's; indeed, the latter had been one of her bridesmaids; butno one to look at them at a distance could have credited it for aminute.
Lady Harrowfield had golden hair and pink cheeks, and her _embonpoint_retained in the most fashionable outline. And if towards two in themorning, or when she lost at bridge, her face did remind on-lookers of ahideous colored mask of death and old age--one can't have everything inlife; and Lady Harrowfield had already obtained more than the lion'sshare.
This night in June she stood at the top of her splendid staircase,blazing with jewels, receiving her guests, among whom more than oneaugust personage, English and foreign, was expected to arrive; and anunusually sour frown disfigured the thick paint of her face.
It all seemed like fairy-land to Theodora as, accompanied by Josiah, andpreceded by Mrs. Devlyn, she early mounted the marble steps with therest of the throng.
She noticed the insolent stare of her hostess as she shook hands andthen passed on in the crowd.
She felt a little shy and nervous and excited withal. Every one aroundseemed to have so many friends, and to be so gay and joyous, and onlyshe and Josiah stood alone. For Mrs. Devlyn felt she had done enoughfor one night in bringing them there.
It was an immense crowd. At a smaller ball Theodora's exquisite beautymust have commanded instant attention, but this was a special occasion,and the world was too occupied with a desire to gape at the foreign kingto trouble about any new-comers. Certainly for the first hour or so.
Josiah was feeling humiliated. Not a creature spoke to them, and theywere hustled along like sheep into the ballroom.
A certain number of men stared--stared with deep interest, and madeplans for introductions as soon as the crowd should subside a little.
Theodora was perfectly dressed, and her jewels caused envy in numbers ofbreasts.
She was too little occupied with herself to feel any of Josiah'shumiliation. This society was hers by right of birth, and did notdisconcert her; only no one could help being lonely when quiteneglected, while others danced.
Presently, a thin, ill-tempered-looking old man made his way withdifficulty up to their corner; he had been speaking to Mrs. Devlynacross the room.
"I must introduce myself," he said, graciously, to Theodora. "I am youruncle, Patrick Fitzgerald, and I am so delighted to meet you and makeyour acquaintance."
Theodora bowed without _empressement_. She had no feeling for theserelations who had been so indifferent to her while she was poor and whohad treated darling papa so badly.
"I only got back to town last night, or I and my wife would have calledat Claridge's before this," he continued. And then he said somethingaffable to Josiah, who looked strangely out of place among thisbrilliant throng.
For whatever may compose the elements of the highest London society, theatoms all acquire a certain air after a little, and if within this _finefleur_ of the aristocracy there lurked some Jews and Philistines andinfidels of the middle classes, they were not quite new to the game, andhad all received their gloss. So poor Josiah stood out rather byhimself, and Sir Patrick Fitzgerald felt a good deal ashamed of him.
Theodora's fine senses had perceived all this long ago--the contrast herhusband presented to the rest of the world--and it had made her standcloser to him and treat him with more deference than usual; her generousheart always responded to any one or anything in an unhappy position.
And through all his thick skin Josiah felt something of her tenderness,and glowed with pride in her.
Sir Patrick Fitzgerald continued to talk, and even paid his niece somebluff compliments. Her manner was so perfect, he decided! Gad! he couldbe proud of his new-found relation. And though the husband was nothingbut a grocer still, and looked it every inch, by Jove, he was richenough to gild his vulgarity and be tolerated among the highest.
Thus the uncle was gushing and lavish in his invitations and offers offriendship. They must come to Beechleigh for Whitsuntide. He would hearof no refusal. Going home! Oh, what nonsense! Home was a place one couldgo to at any time. And he would so like to show them Beechleigh at itsbest, where her father had lived all his young life.
Josiah was caught by his affable suggestions. Why should they not go?Only that morning he had received a letter from his agent at BessingtonHall to say the place, unfortunately, would not be completely ready forthem. Why, then, should they not accept this pleasant invitation?
Theodora hesitated--but he cut her short.
"I am sure it is very good of you, Sir Patrick, and my wife and I willbe delighted to come," he said.
By this time the excitement of the royal entrance and quadrille hadsomewhat subsided, and several people felt themselves drawn to bepresented to the beautiful young woman in white with the really finejewels, and before she knew where she was, Theodora found herselfwaltzing with a wonderfully groomed, ugly young marquis.
She had meant not to dance--not to leave her husband's side; but fateand Josiah had ordered otherwise.
"Not dance! What nonsense, my love! Go at once with his lordship," hehad said, when Sir Patrick had presented Lord Wensleydown. And wincingat the sentence, Theodora had allowed herself to be whirled away.
Her partner was not more than nine-and-twenty; but he had all the blaseairs of a man of forty. He began to say _entreprenant_ things toTheodora after three turns round the room.
She was far too unsophisticated to understand their ultimate meaning,but they made her uncomfortable.
He gazed at her loveliness with that insulting look of sensualadmiration which some men think the highest compliment they can pay to awoman. And just in the middle of all this, Hector Bracondale arrivedupon the scene. He had been searching for her everywhere; in that crowdone could miss any one with ease. He stood and watched her before shecaught sight of him--watched her pure whiteness in the clutches of thisbeast of prey. Saw his burning looks; noted his attitude; imagined hiswhisperings--and murderous feelings leaped to his brain.
How dared Wensleydown! How dared any one! Ah, God! and he was powerlessto prevent it. She was the wife of Josiah Brown over there, smiling andcomplacent to see _his_ belonging dancing with a marquis!
"Hector, dearest, what is the matter?" exclaimed Lady Anningford, comingup at that moment to her brother's side. She was with Colonel Lowerby,and they had made a tour of the rooms on purpose to see Theodora. "Youappear ready to murder some one. What has happened?"
Hector looked straight at her. She was a very tall woman, almost hisheight, and she saw pain and rage and passion were swimming in his eyes,while his deep voice vibrated as he answered:
"Yes, I want to murder some one--and possibly will before the evening isover."
"Hector! Crow, leave me with him, like the dear you always are," shewhispered to Colonel Lowerby, "and come and find me again in a fewminutes."
"Hector, what is it?" she asked, anxiously, when they stood alone.
"Look!" said Lord Bracondale. "Look at Wensleydown leaning overTheodora." He was so moved that he uttered the name without being awareof it. "Did you ever see such a damned cad as he is? Good God, I cannotbear it!"
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"He--he is only dancing with her," said Anne, soothingly. What had cometo her brother, her whimsical, cynical brother, who troubled not at all,as a rule, over anything in the world?
"Only dancing with her! I tell you I will not bear it. Where is theCrow? Why did you send him off? I can't stay with you; I must go andspeak to her, and take her away from this."
"Hector, for Heaven's sake do not be so mad," said Lady Anningford, nowreally alarmed. "You can't go up and seize a woman from her partner inthe middle of a waltz. You must be completely crazy! Dear boy, let usstay here by the door until the music finishes, and then I will speak toher before they can leave the room to sit out."
She put her hand on his arm to detain him, and started to feel how ittrembled.
What passion was this? Surely the Crow was right, after all, and itcould only lead to some inevitable catastrophe. Anne's heart sank; thelights and the splendor seemed all a gilded mockery.
At that moment Morella Winmarleigh advanced with Evermond LeMesurier--their uncle Evermond--who, having other views for his ownamusement, left her instantly at Anne's side and disappeared among thecrowd.
"How impossible to find any one in this crush!" Miss Winmarleigh said.There was a cackly tone in her voice, especially when raised above thedin of the music, which was peculiarly irritating to sensitive ears.
Hector felt he hated her.
Anne still kept her hand on his arm, and flight was hopeless.
Just then a Royalty passed with their hostess, and claimed LadyAnningford's attention, so Hector was left sole guardian of MorellaWinmarleigh.
She cackled on about nothing, while his every sense was strainedwatching Theodora, to see that she did not leave the room without hisknowledge.
She was whirling still in the maze of the waltz, and each time shepassed fresh waves of rage surged in Hector's breast, as he perceivedthe way in which Lord Wensleydown held her.
"Why, there is the woman who was at the opera last night," exclaimedMorella, at last. "How in the world did an outsider like that get here,I wonder? She is quite pretty, close--don't you think so, Hector? Oh, Iforgot, you know her, of course; you talked to her last night, Iremember."
Hector did not answer; he was afraid to let himself speak.
Morella Winmarleigh was looking her best. A tonged, laced, flouncedbest; and she was perfectly conscious of it, and pleased with herselfand her attractions.
She meant to keep Lord Bracondale with her for the rest of the eveningif possible, even if she had to descend to tricks scarcely flattering toher own vanity.
"Do let us go for a walk," she said. "I have not yet seen the flowerdecorations in the yellow salon, and I hear they are particularlyfine."
Hector by this time was beside himself at seeing Theodora convergingwith her partner towards the large doors at the other end of theballroom.
"No," he said. "I am very sorry, but I am engaged for the next dance,and must go and hunt up my partner. Where can I take you?"
Hector engaged for a dance? An unknown thing, and of course untrue. Whatcould this mean? Who would he dance with? That colonial creature? Thismust be looked into and stopped at once.
Miss Winmarleigh's thin under-lip contracted, and a deeper red suffusedher blooming cheeks.
"I really don't know," she said. "I am quite lost, and I am afraid youcan't leave me until I find some one to take care of me." And shegiggled girlishly.
That such a large cow of a woman should want protection of any sortseemed quite ridiculous to Hector--maddeningly ridiculous at the presentmoment. Theodora had disappeared, having seen him standing there withMorella Winmarleigh, who she had been told he was going to marry.
He was literally white with suppressed rage. The Royalty hadcommandeered Anne, and among the dozens of people he knew there was notone in sight with whom he could plant Morella Winmarleigh; so he gaveher his arm, and hurried along the way Theodora had disappeared.
"Are you going to Beechleigh for Whitsuntide?" Morella asked. "I am, andI think we shall have a delightful party."
Hector was not paying the least attention. Theodora was completely outof sight now, and might be lost altogether, for all they were likely toovertake her among this crowd and the numberless exits and entrances.
"Beechleigh!" he mumbled, absently. "Who lives there? I don't even know.I am going home."
"Why, Hector, of course you know! The Fitzgeralds--Sir Patrick and LadyAda. Every one does."
Then it came to him. These were Theodora's uncle and aunt. Was itpossible she could be going there, too? He recollected she had told himin Paris her father had written to this brother of his about her comingto London. She might be going. It was a chance, and he must ascertain atonce.
Sir Patrick Fitzgerald he knew at the Turf, and now that he thought ofit he knew Lady Ada by sight quite well, and he was aware he would be awelcome guest at any house. If Theodora was going, he expected the thingcould be managed. Meanwhile, he must find her, and get rid of MorellaWinmarleigh. He hurried her on through the blue salon and the yellowsalon and out into the gallery beyond. Theodora had completelydisappeared.
Miss Winmarleigh kept up a constant chatter of commonplaces, to which,when he replied at all, he gave random answers.
And every moment she became more annoyed and uneasy.
She had known Hector since she was a child. Their places adjoined in thecountry, and she saw him constantly when there. Her stolid vanity hadnever permitted the suggestion to come to her that he had always beencompletely indifferent to her. She intended to marry him. His mothershared her wishes. They were continually thrown together, and thethought of her as a probable ending to his life when all pleasuresshould be over had often entered his head.
Before he met Theodora, if he had ever analyzed his views about Morella,they probably would have been that she was a safe bore with a greatmany worldly advantages. A woman who you could be sure would not take alover a few years after you had married her, and whom he would probablymarry if she were still free when the time came.
His flittings from one pretty matron to another had not caused her graveanxieties. He could not marry them, and he never talked with girls orpossible rivals. So she had always felt safe and certain that fate wouldultimately make him her husband.
But this was different--he had never been like this before. Anduneasiness grabbed at her well-regulated heart.
"Ah, there is my mother!" he exclaimed, at last, with such evidentrelief that Morella began to feel spiteful.
They made their way to where Lady Bracondale was standing. She beamedupon them like a pleased pussy-cat. It looked so suitable to see themthus together!
"Dearest," she said to Morella, "is not this a lovely ball? And I cansee you are enjoying yourself."
Miss Winmarleigh replied suitably, and her stolid face betrayed none ofher emotion.
"Mother," said Hector, "I wish you would introduce me to Lady AdaFitzgerald when you get the chance. I see her over there."
This was so obvious that Morella, who never saw between the lines,preened with pleasure. After all, he wished to spend Whitsuntide withher, and this anxiety to find Lady Bracondale had been all on thataccount. Lady Bracondale, who was acquainted with Miss Winmarleigh'splans, made the same interruption, and joy warmed her being.
She was only too pleased to do whatever he wished. And the affair wassoon accomplished.
Hector made himself especially attractive, and Lady Ada Fitzgeralddecided he was charming.
The way paved for possible contingencies, he escaped from this crowd ofwomen, and once more began his search for Theodora. She would certainlyreturn to Josiah some time. To go straight to him would be the bestplan.
Josiah was standing absolutely alone by one of the windows in theballroom, and looked pitiably uncomfortable and ill at ease in hisknee-breeches and silk stockings.
He had experienced such pleasure when he had tried them on, and hadenjoyed walking through the hall at Claridge's to his carriage, knowingthe people there wo
uld be aware it meant he was going to meet the mostaugust Royalty.
But now he felt uncomfortable, and kept standing first on one leg, thenon the other. Theodora had not returned to him yet: the next dance hadnot begun.
This great world contained discomfort as well as pleasure, he decided.
Hector walked straight over to him and was excessively polite andagreeable, and Josiah's equanimity was somewhat restored.
What could have happened to Theodora? Where had that beast Wensleydowntaken her? Not to supper--surely not to supper?--were Lord Bracondale'sthoughts.
And then with the first notes of the next dance she reappeared. Itseemed to him she was looking superbly lovely: a faint pink suffused hercheeks, and her eyes were shining with the excitement of the scene.
A mad rush of passion surged over Hector; his turn had come, he thought.
Lord Wensleydown seemed loath to release her, and showed signs ofstaying to talk awhile. So Hector interposed at once.
"May I not have this dance? I have been looking for you everywhere," hesaid.
Theodora told him she was tired, and she stood close to her husband;tired--and also she was quite sure Josiah would be bored left all alone,so she wished to stay with him.
But Mrs. Devlyn made a reappearance just then, and as they spoke theysaw Josiah give her his arm and lead her away.
Thus Theodora was left standing alone with Lord Bracondale.
Fate seemed always to nullify her good intentions.
It was an exquisite waltz, and the music mounted to both their brains.
For one moment the room appeared to reel in front of her, and then shefound herself whirling in his arms. Oh, what bliss it was, after thislong week of separation! What folly and maddening bliss!
Her senses were tingling; her lithe, exquisite, willowy body thrilledand quivered in his embrace. And they both realized what a waltz couldbe, as a medium for joy.
"We will only have two turns until the crowd gets impossible again," hewhispered, "and then I will take you to supper."
Lady Anningford had been rejoined by the Crow, and now stood watchingthem. She and her companion were silent for a moment, and then:
"By Jove!" Colonel Lowerby said. "She is certainly worth going to hellfor, to look at even--and they don't appear as if they would take longon the road."
