Mollie's Prince: A Novel

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

  CHAPTER XXXVIII.

  MOLLIE'S PRINCE.

  "And, while now she wonders blindly, Nor the meaning can divine, Proudly turns he round and kindly: 'All of this is thine and mine.'"

  _The Lord of Burleigh._

  "It is all arranged about the picnic," exclaimed Mollie, in a joyousvoice, as she entered their bedroom, where Waveney was busy packing herown and Mollie's things. It was the last day before their return totown. Moritz had come down unexpectedly the previous evening, and hadpaid his usual morning visit; he had gone back to the hotel to write hisletters, and had promised to join them on the Parade later on.

  "What picnic?" observed Waveney, absently. She was at that momentregarding with great satisfaction the new spring dresses that had justcome from the dressmaker's. They had been bought with her own money; andthe pretty hats, and smart boots and gloves, had all been provided fromher quarter's salary, and, although Mollie had at first refused toallow Waveney to spend her money on her, she was soon persuaded that anyshabbiness on the part of his young _fiancee_ would be distressing toMr. Ingram's feelings. "You know he likes people to be nicely dressed,"Waveney had remarked, rather severely, "so please don't be foolish,Mollie. Surely"--in a pathetic voice--"you won't begrudge me this lastchance of buying clothes for my sweetheart?" And what could Mollie doafter that, except hug her silently, in token of yielding?

  "What picnic?" returned Mollie, indignantly. "Why, our long-promisedvisit to Brentwood Hall, of course, to see dear old King Canute in thepicture. Moritz says he has arranged everything with Miss Althea. I amto have a day's rest at the Red House, and on Thursday we are to go."

  "But Miss Althea is always engaged on Thursday," objected Waveney. "Shehas her Porch House evening."

  "Oh yes, I know," retorted Mollie--she was fairly glowing withexcitement and happiness--"but Miss Althea says she doesn't mind beingabsent for once. We are to drive down to Waterloo, and Moritz will meetus there, and it is only an hour's journey by train. Moritz says thathis sister has promised to join us at luncheon. I was just a wee bitfrightened when he said that; but he assured me that she would not bethe least formidable. She is very tall, Waveney, and very plain--atleast, strangers think her so; and she always calls herself ugly, but hewas sure I should soon love her. 'Gwen is the dearest girl in theworld,' he went on, 'and Jack just worships her. Jack Compton is herhusband, you know.' Oh Wave, I do hope she will like me."

  "Of course she will like you," returned Waveney, with comfortabledecision. "I would not give a fig for Mrs. Gwen if she had the bad tastenot to admire my Mollie. Well, I hope it will be a fine day for Moritz'spicnic, and then we can wear our new dresses. But, Mollie dear, are wereally to have luncheon at Brentwood Hall? I thought Moritz said hisfriend was away, and that only servants were there?"

  "Yes, but he says he and Lord Ralston are such close friends that he has_carte blanche_ to do as he likes. He is Viscount Ralston, and he isvery rich. Moritz says he has over thirty thousand a year. He seems tohave very grand friends," went on Molly, rather thoughtfully. "I amafraid they will look down on me, a poor little lame Cinderella."

  But Waveney scouted this idea with energy. Mollie was well born and welleducated; no one could look down on her. Moritz would not have to blushfor her, even if his friends were dukes as well as viscounts. Molliemust hold her own, and not be too humble on the subject of her ownmerits. It was quite evident that Moritz thought her the dearest andsweetest thing in the world, and she ought to be satisfied with that.And then Mollie cheered up and forgot her fears, and they packed happilyuntil it was time to go out. When the eventful day arrived, Mollie wokeWaveney at an unconscionably early hour, to inform her that the weatherwas simply perfect, and that they might wear their new dresses withoutfear of a shower.

  It was one of those typical May days, when Nature puts on her daintiestand fairest apparel, when the fresh young green of the foliage seems tofeast and rest the eyes.

  The air was sweet with lilac and may; and the tender blue of the sky wasunstained by a single cloud. When Mollie came downstairs, in her prettygrey dress, with a little spray of pink may at her throat, Altheathought that she matched the day itself.

  "Mollie has quite recovered her looks," she said to Doreen; "the dearchild is a great beauty, and Gwen will be charmed with her." And,indeed, as they drove through there were many admiring glances cast atthe pretty, blushing face.

  Moritz was at the station to meet them. He had a white flower in hisbuttonhole, and looked jubilant and excited. Perhaps he was a triflefussy in his attentions. Mollie must take his arm, he said; the stationwas so crowded, and there were a lot of rough people about.

  Poor Mollie felt a little nervous and conscious. It was difficult toadapt her slow, lurching walk to Monsieur Blackie's quick, springytread. Moritz might be as tender over her infirmity as a mother oversome cripple child; but Mollie, who was only human, could have wept overher own awkwardness. Perhaps her limping gait had never given her moreacute pain than now, when Ingram was trying so carefully andlabouriously to adapt his step to hers.

  Mollie's cheeks were burning by the time they reached their compartment;but when Moritz sat down beside her with a fond look and word, sheforgot her uneasiness, and was her own happy self again.

  The journey was a short one. When they reached Brentwood, Moritzhurried his party through the little country station before thestationmaster had an opportunity of accosting him.

  An open barouche with a fine pair of bays was awaiting them. WhenWaveney admired them, Moritz remarked rather complacently that Ralstonwas a good judge of horse-flesh. And then he asked Mollie how she wouldlike to drive herself in a low pony-carriage with a pair ofcream-coloured ponies. And Mollie, thinking that he was joking, clappedher hands gleefully.

  "How delicious that would be!" she returned. "But it is very naughty ofyou to tantalise me in this fashion. Oh, what a dear old village!" shewent on. "And, Moritz, the people seem to know you." For Moritz waslifting his hat every instant in response to some greeting.

  "Oh, they are always civil to people who are staying at the Hall,"returned Ingram, evasively. But at that moment he met Althea's amusedglance. "Very well done, my lord," she said, under her breath; and thenshe shook her head at him.

  They were just turning in at some open gates, and before them was ashady avenue. At the end, some more gates, of finely wrought Flemishwork, admitted them to the sunny gardens and terrace; while before themstood the grand old Hall, with its grey walls and quaint gables andoriel windows embowered in ivy and creepers.

  "It is a lovely old place," murmured Althea; but Mollie and Waveney werespeechless with admiration. To their eyes it looked like an enchantedpalace, surrounded by shimmering green lawns. The great door was wideopen, as though to receive them; but there was no sign of human life.When the carriage had driven away, Moritz took Mollie's hand and led heracross the wide hall, with its pillars, and grand oak carvings, itsmighty fireplace, and walls covered with curious weapons, with here andthere a stag's antlers, or the head of a grinning leopard.

  They only paused for a moment to admire the great stone staircase, thatwas broad enough for a dozen men to walk abreast. One of the Ralstons,in a mad frolic, had once ridden his gallant grey up to the very top ofthe staircase.

  "I am going to show you everything," observed Ingram, as they walkeddown the softly carpeted corridor. "We call this the Zoo," he continued,"for if you look at the pictures, Mollie, you will see they are mostlyof animals. There are some good proof engravings of Landseer, and thesculpture is rather fine; but the most beautiful groups are in thepicture-gallery, upstairs. The fifth Viscount Ralston was a connoisseurof art, and spent a good deal of his income in pictures and sculpture.It was he who brought the Flemish gates from Belgium; they areconsidered very fine, and are always pointed out to visitors."

  Mollie began to feel a little breathless; she wanted to linger in everyroom, but Moritz, who had his work cut out for him, hurried her on.

&
nbsp; They went through the big dining-room, which was large enough for abanqueting-hall, and into a smaller one, where the table was alreadylaid for luncheon; and then into the library and morning-room. WhenMollie asked, with _naive_ curiosity, if there were no drawing-room,Moritz laughed and told her to wait.

  "These are Ralston's private quarters," he said, ushering her into acosy sitting-room, fitted up for a gentleman's use. But when Molliewould have investigated, with girlish curiosity, the mass of papers onthe writing table, he quietly took her arm, and marched her into thebilliard-room adjoining. "Ralston would not like us to look at hispapers," he said, gravely. "He is an untidy fellow, and hiswriting-table is always in confusion."

  "Is Lord Ralston married?" asked Mollie, presently, as they went slowlyup the stone staircase. Althea, who overheard her, was obliged to pause;she was shaking with suppressed mirth; but Waveney was far too busilyengaged in admiring a painted window to notice her merriment. Ingram wasquite equal to the occasion.

  "He is not married yet, dear," he returned, quickly, "but he does notexpect to be a bachelor much longer. Shall I show you the rooms that hehas chosen for his future wife, or shall we go to the picture-gallery?"But Mollie's excitement was too great for fatigue, and she at oncedecided to see Lady Ralston's rooms.

  To Mollie's inexperienced eyes they were grand enough for the Queen. Shewas almost indignant when Moritz explained that the _boudoir_ anddressing-room were to be refurnished. It was shameful extravagance, sherepeated, more than once; what did it matter if the furniture was alittle old fashioned? Mollie was quite eloquent on the subject, as shestood in the wide bay window of the _boudoir_. It was a charmingwindow. Mollie looked straight down the avenue to the great bronzegates. The rooks were cawing in the elms; some tame pheasants werepluming themselves on the lawn below; and a wicked-looking jackdaw wasstrutting up and down the terrace. The beds were full of spring flowers.

  "Oh, how perfect it all is!" sighed Mollie; and then she said, in quitea decided tone, "I do think it will be wicked for Lord Ralston torefurnish this room."

  "There, Gwen, do you hear that?" exclaimed Moritz. And Mollie turnedhastily round. A tall young lady was standing in the doorway watchingher. She was quite young, but Mollie thought she had never seen any oneso tall; and certainly it was her opinion, that first moment, that Mrs.John Compton was the plainest person she had ever seen.

  Mollie, who was a great admirer of beauty, felt a sort of shock at thesight of Gwen's frank ugliness; her small greenish-blue eyes crinklingup with amusement, the bluntness of her features, and her wide mouth,gave Mollie a pang. She had yet to find out her redeeming points,--herbeautiful figure, the rich brown hair, and pleasantly modulated voice.

  "Moritz, is this my dear new sister?" asked Gwen, with a smile so brightand warm that it quite transfigured her plain face. And then, with frankkindness, she put her arms round Mollie and kissed her. "Mollie, youmust be very good to me," she went on. And now there were tears in hereyes. "Moritz is my only brother, and we have been everything to eachother. Have we not, old boy?" And Gwen pinched his ear playfully, andthen greeted Waveney and her cousin Althea in the warmest fashion.

  There was a little hubbub of talking and laughter, and then Moritz drewMollie's arm through his and led her away.

  Probably Gwen had had her orders, for, instead of following them, shemade room for Waveney on the wide window-seat.

  "There is something Moritz wishes me to tell you," she said, quietly,"and that he is telling your sister now."

  However important Moritz's communication might be, it had to be deferreduntil Mollie had exhausted her whole vocabulary of admiring terms at thesight of the noble gallery.

  It was a drawing-room and ball-room as well as a picture-gallery. Threegreat fireplaces, with their cosy environment of luxurious lounges andeasy-chairs, gave warmth to the whole room. And on the other side werewindows with deep recesses, every one forming separate cosy nooks. Inone was a low tea-table and a circle of easy-chairs. Another was fittedwith an inlaid writing-table and cabinet. A third contained only a lowvelvet divan. It was in this last recess that Moritz at last contrivedto detain Molly.

  "Dear Mollie," he said, gently but firmly, "there will be plenty of timeto look at the pictures and sculpture after luncheon; but I want you tolisten to me a moment. I have to ask your forgiveness for a littledeception." Moritz's face was so grave that Mollie regarded him withastonishment.

  "My forgiveness! Are you joking, Moritz?"

  "No, darling, I am quite serious. I have brought you here under falsepretences. But I will tell you all about it by-and-by. Dearest, this isyour future home. It is here that you and I are to spend our livestogether. Moritz Ingram and Viscount Ralston are one and the sameperson."

  Mollie's face grew white. The little hand he held trembled with emotion.

  "Oh, no, not really?" she gasped.

  "Yes, really, my sweet one. But I cannot have you look so pale andfrightened." Then, as Mollie glanced shyly at him, he caught hersuddenly to his breast. "My little blessing," he whispered. "You lovedyour old friend, Monsieur Blackie; but you will not tell me now, I hope,that Ralston is to be less dear to you."

  "No, no!" stammered Mollie; "but I cannot understand. Oh, Moritz, whydid you do it?"

  "I will tell you, dear," he returned, quietly. "You know, at one time,Gwen and I were very poor. We lived in a pokey little house that wecalled 'The Tin Shanty.' You shall see it some day, and I think you willown that Ten, Cleveland Terrace, is a mansion compared with it. We werealmost at the end of our tether when the death of a cousin made meViscount Ralston and master of Brentwood Hall and thirty thousand ayear."

  "Oh, Moritz!" and Mollie shivered and hid her face.

  "I was a lucky fellow, was I not, dear? and I was truly thankful for mygood things. I was always very sociable, and fond of the society of myfellow-creatures, and when Gwen married I led rather a gay life. Butafter a time I got disgusted. Mothers with marriageable daughters made adead set at me. Before the season was over I could have had my pick ofhalf a dozen beauties. Viscount Ralston, with his thirty thousand ayear, was considered a desirable _parti_. Mollie, dear, it fairlysickened me. You know I was an Idealist, and I never could make up mymind to move in the ordinary groove, like other people, and I registereda mental vow that, unless I was loved for myself, I would never marry.When I first met my little Samaritan I had no wish to disclose my title;but it was a mere freak at first to remain incognito, until--until I sawyou, my darling. Oh, Mollie, do you remember that day, and how I heardyou singing, and discovered Cinderella sitting on the hearth? Shall Itell you a secret, dear? When I left the house that day I said tomyself, 'I will move heaven and earth to win that girl for my wife.'"

  "Oh, Moritz, did you really?"

  "Yes, love, and then and there I decided to be Mr. Ingram. I had nodifficulty in preserving my incognito. I bound over my cousins tosecrecy. It was only your illness that complicated matters. I found,then, that it was necessary to take your father and Noel intoconfidence; but you and Waveney were to be kept in ignorance. Gwen istelling her at this present moment. But now, Mollie, I have finished myconfession, and I only want to hear from your lips that Monsieur Blackieis forgiven."

  "There is nothing to forgive," she faltered. "I think I am glad that Idid not know. But oh, Moritz, there is one thing that makes me sorry."And now there was a painful flush on Mollie's cheek. "You know what Imean. I wish for your sake that I was not lame."

  "My poor little darling," he returned, compassionately. "But I think Ilove you all the more for your helplessness. Thank Heaven, my wife willnever have occasion to tire herself. The cream-coloured ponies are inthe stable, Mollie, and when we are married I mean to give youriding-lessons."

  And then, for very joy and gratitude, Mollie burst into a flood of happytears.

  "Oh, it is too much, too much," she sobbed. "I do not deserve suchhappiness. Moritz, you must teach me everything. I want to be worthy ofthis lovely home and you." And then shyly, but with exq
uisite, grace shelifted the kind hand to her lips.