CHAPTER XLI.
THE TRUE STORY OF LADY BETTY.
"Man is his own star, and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man, Commands all light, all influence, all fate, Nothing to him falls early, or too late. Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, Our fatal shadows, that walk by us still."
JOHN FETCHER.
"They laugh that win."
_Othello._
Two or three days before the wedding there was another gathering at theRed House. Gwendoline and her husband were staying with Lord Ralston,and Doreen suggested that the Chaytors and Everard Ward should beinvited to meet them. Althea made no objection. Only when her sisterproposed dessert in the verandah, she gently, but decidedly, put herveto upon it.
"There are too many; we had better remain in the dining-room," shereplied, with heightened colour. And Doreen, who, with all herbluntness, had plenty of tact, said no more.
Every one accepted. But at the last moment Joanna excused herself, onthe plea of indisposition. But Tristram Chaytor accompanied his brother.Waveney and Mollie were dressed alike that evening, in soft,ivory-coloured silk. Only Mollie's spray of flowers were pink, andWaveney wore dark red carnations. Thorold, who sat by her at dinner,noticed a diamond bangle on her arm. Waveney saw him looking at it.
"It is a present from Lord Ralston," she said. "I am to be Mollie'sbridesmaid, you know. Was it not good of him. I never had anything solovely in my life before."
Thorold murmured some response. Then he addressed his next neighbour.Waveney was dangerously attractive that evening; her dark eyes werebright with excitement and pleasure, and in her white dress she lookedmore like Undine than ever. The conversation during dinner turned uponlong engagements. It was Gwendoline who started the subject; a friend ofhers, who had been engaged for eight years, had been married that verymorning. Gwendoline brought down on herself a chorus of animadversionand censure from the gentlemen, for saying that she rather approved oflong engagements, and a warm discussion followed. The gentlemen took oneside of the argument, and the ladies the other; but Gwen stucktenaciously to her opinion.
"Waiting never hurts any one," she said, oracularly. "Don't you rememberLady Betty Ingram, Moritz? Lady Betty was an ancestress of ours," shecontinued; "she lived when farmer George was king, and she was faithfulto her love for more than twenty years."
"Five-and-twenty years, was it not, Gwen?" And then, as most of theparty begged to hear the story, Gwendoline narrated it in her owncharming way.
"Lady Betty had been for some time one of Queen Charlotte'sladies-in-waiting. But Court life was not to her taste; she was livelyby nature, and she disliked all the etiquette and restraint, and shepined to be back with her parents in the old home. But before she leftthe Court she made the acquaintance of a certain Sir BeverWilloughby--at least, he was only Bever Willoughby then, the son of animpoverished baronet, and heir to heavily mortgaged estates.
"Lady Betty was no beauty, but she was considered fascinating by mostpeople. She was very witty, and she danced beautifully, and handsomeBever Willoughby lost his heart to her when he saw her walk through theminuet; for she pointed her toe so prettily and curtsied with suchexquisite grace, that Willoughby was not proof against her charms. Oneevening when they were at Ranelagh, and Lady Betty looked morebewitching than ever in her little quilted satin hood, Willoughbysuddenly addressed her in an agitated voice.
"'My Lady Betty,' he said, 'the Court is not the place for a poor man.You have robbed me of my peace of mind, but no lady, however fair, shallrob me of my honour. I am going to win my laurels. To-morrow I sail forAmerica. Fare you well--and God bless you--dear Lady Betty.' And then hebowed to her with his hand on his heart, and for four-and-twenty yearsshe never saw his face again, though she heard of him often.
"It was then that Lady Betty returned to the old Hall. And there shelived a quiet life, cherishing her aged parents, and busy with herstill-room and herb-garden, after the fashion of those days. She hadmany lovers, but she never married; for, as she once told her mother,she had never met any one to compare with Sir Bever Willoughby. 'He wasa goodly youth,' she said, 'and when I looked on his countenance Ibethought me of young David, playing his harp among his sheep; but hehad one fault, and it has spoiled both our lives--he was too proud toowe his fortune to the woman he loved.'
"Lady Betty was in her comely middle age when she next saw BeverWilloughby. She had grown rather stout, but people said she washandsomer than she had been in her youth. She was dancing a minuet inthe picture-gallery at Brentwood Hall, when a tall, soldierly-lookingman, with his arm in a sling, attracted her notice. When their eyes metLady Betty blushed like a girl, but Sir Bever turned very pale. When, aweek or two later, Sir Bever asked her to marry him, Lady Betty lookedhim full in the face.
"'There is an old proverb, Sir Bever,' she said, 'that tells us thatsome things are better late than never; and methinks this wooing ofyours is somewhat tardy.'
"'Say not so, dear Lady Betty,' he returned, passionately, 'for thoughI rode away without telling my love, I have had no wife or child, buthave been your true lover at heart all these years.'
"Then Lady Betty dropped him a low curtsy; but he saw the sparkle oftears in her eyes.
"'You have not been more faithful than another,' she replied. 'You are abrave soldier, Sir Bever, but you had no right to break a woman's heart,as mine was broken that evening at Ranelagh.'"
"But she married him?" pleaded Mollie, rather piteously, as Gwendolinepaused for a moment.
"Oh, yes, she married him, and they were very happy; but Sir Bever onlylived ten years. As he lay dying he expressed his regret that theirwedded bliss had been so brief.
"'Dear heart,' returned Lady Betty, 'your mannish, foolish pride kept myhusband from me for nigh upon twenty-five years, but we will make up forit hereafter;' and then she fell on his breast weeping. 'Death cannotpart true hearts,' she cried, 'and thou wilt be my own Sir Bever inheaven.'"
And here Gwen caught her breath, for Jack was looking at her; andactually Mollie, silly little Mollie, was crying.
"It is a lovely story, Gwen," observed Althea; and then she rose fromthe table. A little later, when the gentlemen had had their coffee, theyall went out on the terrace, and Waveney found herself pacing the gardenpaths with Mr. Chaytor.
They talked on indifferent subjects--the beauty of the evening and thecharm of a well-kept garden. And then they paused to listen to anightingale in the shrubbery. Presently they sat down in the verandah atthe Porch House, and watched the other couples passing to and fro below.Lord Ralston and Mollie, Gwen and Jack Compton, and Doreen and Tristram;the other three, Althea and Mr. Ward and Noel, had seated themselves ona bench outside the library window. The moon was rising behind the elms.Waveney's eyes were fixed on it, when Thorold suddenly broke thesilence.
"What did you think of the true story of Lady Betty?" he asked. Therewas something inexplicable in his tone.
"I thought it beautiful," she returned; "though I did not cry over it asMollie did. They were both so faithful; but Lady Betty was braver thanSir Bever."
"What do you mean?" remonstrated her companion. "Surely it was betterfor him to ride away without telling his love. You do not agree withme"--looking in her face. "You think Sir Bever was wrong to be afraid ofhis poverty."
"Yes, I think he was wrong," faltered Waveney. "I agree with Lady Betty,that he had sacrificed their youth to no purpose. You see, he gave herno chance of setting things right; he just rode away, and left her tobear her life as well as she could."
"You are severe," returned Thorold, eagerly. "You do not make anallowance for a man's pride, that will not stoop to take everything froma woman. I grant you the story was pretty, and that Mrs. John Comptontold it well; she has a charming voice and manner."
"Oh, yes; and she is so nice. Mollie is quite fond of her already."
"I do not wonder at it; but, Miss Ward, I want to convince you that youladies
are not the only ones who set us an example of faithfulness. Menmay be proverbially fickle, but there are exceptions to the rule."
"Oh, yes, of course."
"It is difficult to judge in some cases. There was a friend of mine----"Here Thorold hesitated and glanced at the girl's averted face. Somethingin her attitude--the shy droop of the head, the hands clasped so tightlyon her white gown--excited him and quickened his pulses. There was atremor in his voice as he went on. "My friend was deeply in love with agirl. She was very young. He was much older, and weighted with manycares and responsibilities, and he was poor--oh, far too poor to take awife."
Again he paused, but Waveney made no comment, only her hands wereclasped more nervously.
"He did not exactly ride away, as Sir Bever did," he went on; "but hemade up his mind that the most honourable course would be to lock up thesecret of his love in his own breast, and not burden that bright younglife with his troubles. No!"--with strange emphasis--"he loved her toowell for that. Dear Miss Ward, surely you will own that my friend wasright."
Waveney would have given worlds not to answer. Her little pale face grewrigid with suppressed emotion. Though she never raised her eyes, she wasconscious that he was watching her keenly; his strong will seemed tocompel her to speak.
"My friend was right, was he not?" he repeated, slowly, and as though hewere weighing each syllable.
"No," she returned, abruptly; "he was wrong. He was as mistaken as SirBever." And then she grew crimson. Oh, if she could only escape! If shecould bring this conversation to an end! She was tingling from head tofoot with sheer nervousness.
"So I begin to think myself," returned Thorold, coolly. And then hisvoice deepened with sudden tenderness. "Waveney, my dear one, tell methe truth. Would you wait for me?"
* * * * *
Gwendoline always boasted that she had made the match. "For you know,Jack," she would say, "if I had not told that story about Lady Betty,Mr. Chaytor would never have mustered up courage to speak to Waveneythat night, and they might have been pining for each other for years."
After all, it had come about quite naturally. Perhaps Thorold had readsomething in Waveney's eyes, as she listened to that old love-story,that made him change his purpose of silence. But he never repented it.
"We may have to wait for years," he said to her, when the firstagitation of their great joy had calmed a little. But Waveney only gavehim one of her radiant smiles.
"Faithfulness has not gone out with powder and patches," she said, inher quaint way. "I would rather wait through a lifetime, knowing withoutdoubt that you loved me, than have to exist through years of chillingsilence." And in his heart Thorold agreed with her.
Everard Ward gave his consent very willingly when Thorold, in rather anembarrassed voice, told him that he feared they could not be married forperhaps four or five years. He received the news with profoundsatisfaction.
"Chaytor is a son-in-law after my own heart," he said to Althea. "Hewill not rob me of my little girl for the next five years. 'My dearfellow, I am delighted to hear it,' I said to him; but he looked at merather reproachfully."
"I hope they will not have to wait quite so long," returned Althea,gravely.
But Everard would not endorse this. Lord Ralston had robbed him of hisMollie, and he could not spare his little Waveney.
Perhaps Althea was the most astonished at the news. Thorold and Waveneyhad kept their secret so well that she had never guessed it; but whenher first surprise was over, she rejoiced heartily in their happiness.
"Thorold has grown years younger since his engagement," she said one dayto Joanna. "He is not half so grave and sober now." And Joanna assentedto this.
"I am getting very fond of Waveney," she replied. "Tristram likes her,and so does Betty."
But Joanna spoke without enthusiasm. Her brother's choice had greatlysurprised her, and privately she thought his engagement to a pennilessgirl was an act of pure folly. "If he had only married a girl withmoney!" she would say to Tristram sometimes.
But Althea, who had not outlived romance, approved thoroughly of theengagement. She saw that Waveney entirely satisfied Thorold--that shewas the light of his eyes, and the desire of his heart. "My lonely daysare over," he once said to her. And it was true. Waveney's brightintelligence enabled her to take interest in all his work, and he couldshare all his thoughts with her.
When Mollie and Lord Ralston plighted their vows in the old church atErpingham, Thorold was making silent vows in his heart, and looking at alittle white figure with worshipping eyes. And Waveney was repeating her_Te Deum_.
"Oh, Mollie, I don't think you are happier than I am," she whispered,when they were alone together for a moment.
But Mollie looked just a trifle dubious. Thorold was very nice andclever, and she meant to be quite fond of him; but he could not becompared to her Moritz.
"Oh, Wave, do you know what I heard as we came out of church just now?"she said, merrily. "Somebody near me said, 'The lame bride is a realbeauty, and they say she is a ladyship now.'" And then Mollie laughedgleefully, and gave her satin train a little fling. "Wasn't it funny?But I don't think Moritz quite liked it. And Wave"--and now Mollie'sdimples were in full play--"somehow I could not feel quite grave whenColonel Treherne called me Lady Ralston."
CHAPTER XLII.
"WOOED, AND MARRIED, AND A'."
MIR. "Here's my hand."
FER. "And mine with my heart in it."
_The Tempest._
"There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough hew them how we will."
_Hamlet._
It was arranged that Waveney was to remain at the Red House whilepainting and papering were being carried on at Number Ten, ClevelandTerrace.
Ann, the heavy-footed, was dismissed with a month's wages, and Mrs.Muggins accompanied her. A competent caretaker was put in charge. AndAlthea had already engaged two capable maids, to come in when the workof renovation was complete.
It was the first time Doreen and Althea had ever spent August in town;but Mrs. Mainwaring's sudden illness had detained them, and, as soon asshe was fit to travel, they had promised to stay with her at Whitby.
While Waveney remained with her friends, Everard Ward and his son wentdown to a farm-house in Yorkshire, that Lord Ralston had recommended,where they would have excellent accommodation, at a very moderate price,and very good fishing. It was the first real holiday that Everard hadenjoyed for years, and Noel wrote ridiculously illustrated epistles,retailing sundry ludicrous adventures. "His revered parent," as heinformed Waveney, "was becoming fatter, and more plebeian, every day."And here there was a spirited pen-and-ink sketch of Everard in a hugestraw hat, fishing on a boulder, with a briar-wood pipe in his mouth,and several small fishes winking at him as they frisked harmlessly by."Caught nothing since Friday week," was written underneath the picture.
In spite of her happiness, Waveney could not reconcile herself toMollie's absence. The parting had tried them both. No one forgot thebride's tear-stained face, as Lord Ralston lifted her into thecarriage. "Oh, do take care of my Wave," were her last words to Althea,as they drove away.
Waveney shed many a tear in her Pansy Room. But she cheered up whenMollie's first letter came. And after that she wrote almost daily. Shewas very happy, she said, and Moritz was so good to her. But of courseit was strange, being without her Wave. It was such a lovely place, andthe cottage was so cosy. They were out all day, fishing, or wanderingover the purple moors. Sometimes Moritz had a day's shooting with thekeeper, and then she and Donald, the gamekeeper's son, drove down withthe luncheon. They had dinner at eight--quite a grand dinner, and Donaldwaited on them. "I have given up pinching myself hard, to be sure that Iam not dreaming," she wrote once, "but for all that I am leading astory-book existence. Oh, I am so happy, darling! I can hardly say myprayers without crying for sheer thankfulness. My dear Moritz spoils meso dreadfully. He says he hates me to be out of his
sight for a moment,and if I were to believe half he says I should be as conceited aspossible. It is just his blarney, I tell him. And then he pretends to beaffronted."
"Don't you believe her, my dear," wrote a masculine hand. "She is a perfect darling, and the sweetest little wife in the world. When it comes to pinching oneself I can hardly believe I am that lucky and much-to-be-envied fellow, your affectionate brother-in-law,
"MONSIEUR BLACKIE."
When Althea showed Waveney the improvements she and Doreen had effectedin Number Ten, Cleveland Terrace, the girl could hardly believe hereyes. New papers, and carpets, and curtains, had quite transformed thedingy old house. The stairs were covered with crimson felt, and thestudio, and the bare, ugly room, where the sisters had slept, lookedperfectly charming.
"A little money and a good deal of taste do wonders," observed Althea ina matter-of-fact tone. But Waveney wasn't so sure about the money.Moritz had evidently given his cousins _carte blanche_, and though therewas very little new furniture in the studio, the fresh cretonne andflowering-plants gave it an air of finish and refinement.
It was a pleasant life they led there. Never since his wife's death hadEverard been so content and happy. Mollie's brilliant marriage gave himgreat satisfaction, and he had no fear of losing his little Waveney formany a year to come. He was set free from the drudgery he hated, and heand Waveney were always together. Thorold spent his Sundays with them,and he came one evening in the week beside. They had made this rule atthe beginning, and he never infringed on it.
Every fortnight or so they dined at the Red House, and Althea often hadtea with them when she drove into town. She and Everard had resumedtheir old friendliness; neither of them had forgotten that scene in theverandah of the Porch House, but, by mutual consent, the subject ofNoel's education had been dropped for a time.
At the beginning of October the newly married pair returned to town, andspent a week at Eaton Square, and Mollie and Waveney were together everyday.
"Why, Mollie, I declare you have grown an inch taller," were Everard'sfirst words to her; and privately he thought that young Lady Ralston waseven handsomer than Mollie Ward had been. Both he and Waveney agreedthat happiness and prosperity had not spoilt their darling; she was thesame simple, light-hearted creature, thinking as little of herself, andrejoicing over her pretty things as a child might have done.
Perhaps there was a little veil of shyness and reserve when she spoke ofher husband. Moritz was evidently perfect in her eyes; but only toWaveney did she dwell on his good qualities.
"People do not know him," she said once--"they think him eccentric; butit is just his way of talking. He is so true, Wave; Gwen says that sheis sure that he has never told a lie in his life, and he is sounselfish, he is always wanting to make people happy. When he was sopoor he would deprive himself of a meal if a beggar looked hungry; andnow he is always planning some generous gift or other. He lends hisshooting lodge to poor artists or curates. Oh! I cannot tell you half ofthe things he does. He calls me his little blessing; but I feel I cannever, never, repay his goodness." And here such an exquisite blushtinged Mollie's cheeks, that it was a pity Lord Ralston did not see it.
Mollie was naturally anxious to see her beautiful home, and the lovelyrooms that Moritz had refurnished for her. But her regret was so greatat leaving Waveney that Lord Ralston, who could refuse nothing to hissweet Moll, suggested that she should pay them a visit in November. Hehad already arranged that the whole Ward family were to keep theirChristmas at Brentwood Hall; but there was no reason why Waveney shouldnot spend a week or two with them in November.
It was impossible to refuse so tempting an invitation; and when Waveneyreached Brentwood Mollie and the cream-coloured ponies were at thestation. Mollie was in a perfect glow of pride and satisfaction as shedrove Waveney through the village.
Waveney's first act after unpacking was to find the portrait of LadyBetty in the picture-gallery. Mollie pointed it out to her. Lady Bettysimpered down on them from the faded canvas. She had a round face andpowdered hair drawn up under a lace cap, and one slim hand held a bunchof roses. Her yellow brocade looked as stiff as buckram, and her whitearms were veiled with rich lace. "Lady Betty Ingram, in her twenty-fifthyear" was written in the catalogue.
Never had Mollie or Waveney spent such a Christmas as they spent thatyear at Brentwood Hall. Thorold Chaytor was with them. Lord Ralston keptChristmas in the old style. There were mummers and carol-singers onChristmas Eve, and "cakes and ale" _ad libitum_ in the housekeeper'sroom.
The John Comptons came over from Kingsdene, and the day after ChristmasDay there was a ball for the servants; and on New Year's Eve there was afestive gathering, to which people came ten miles round, and there wasdancing in the picture-gallery. Madam Compton was there, looking queenlyin black velvet and point lace, and she and Jack were delighted whenafter supper Gwen danced a minuet with her brother. Gwen was looking herbest that evening. She wore a cream-coloured satin gown, cut somewhatquaintly, and her beautiful neck and arms were bare of ornament. As Gwenmoved down the picture-gallery, Mollie vowed that not even the renownedLady Betty could have curtsied with such grace. "Oh, how beautifully shedances!" whispered Mollie; and Jack heard her, and beamed with delight.
When the clock struck twelve they all joined hands, and Lord Ralstonmade them a little speech. Then the band struck up and they all sang"For Auld Lang Syne."
Mollie sat enthroned like a little queen all the time the dancing wenton. The diamonds she wore were hardly brighter than her eyes. Once, whenher husband said, a little sadly, "How he wished his sweet Moll coulddance, too!" Mollie's lip quivered for a moment; then she saidbravely,--
"It does not matter, dear. It is so nice to have you helping me andlooking after me."
Nevertheless, her eyes looked a little wistfully after him and Waveneywhen they waltzed together.
The spring days found Waveney at Cleveland Terrace again. Moritz meantto bring his wife to Eaton Square for a part of the season, and then sheand Mollie would go to exhibitions and concerts and to the operatogether.
Early in May Waveney was sitting in the studio one afternoon, finishinga long letter to Mollie, when Thorold suddenly entered the room. Waveneygave a little cry of delight when she saw him.
"Oh, Thorold, how delightful!" she exclaimed, as he took her in hisarms. "Have you come to spend the evening?"
"Yes, if you will have me, Waveney. I have some news to tell you."
"Good news, I can see by your face." And then she asked wickedly, "IsJoanna going to be married?"
"No, my dear; no one is going to be married but you and I by-and-bye,but it is capital news for all that. Tristram has been offered a goodberth at Liverpool, and, as Joanna cannot bring herself to part withBetty, she is going to keep house for them."
"Oh, Thorold, how splendid!" And Waveney's eyes sparkled with pleasure.She was overjoyed at the idea that he was free at last. No one knewbetter than she how uncongenial his home had been to him. Solitude wouldbe infinitely preferable to the small carking cares and frets of hisdaily life. Joanna's peculiar temperament created an unrestfulatmosphere round her. Tristram, who was of a blunter and more obtusenature, was less alive to the discomfort.
Joa was always a poor puling thing, he would say, but she was very goodto his Betty. And he was rather relieved than otherwise when Joannaentreated tearfully to accompany them.
"Thorold does not want me and Betty does," she pleaded.
"Joa has a little money of her own," went on Thorold, "so I think theywill be fairly comfortable. The change of scene will be good for her.They are to leave Dereham at the end of July."
"That will be nearly three months hence," returned Waveney, musingly.She was fingering Thorold's coat-sleeve rather absently as she spoke.It was one of her pretty caressing ways with him. He watched the littlehand for a moment as it smoothed the rough cloth so gently. Then he tookpossession of it.
"Dearest," he said, very quietly, "once, long ago, I was ready t
o rideaway without telling my love like Sir Bever, but my good angel stoppedme. But I find that I have not Lady Betty's patience, and long waitingwould be irksome to me." And then he looked at her very wistfully."Waveney, I want to ask you a question. When my sister leaves me, do yousee any reason why we should not be married?"
It was evident that Waveney was extremely startled, and that Thorold'sproposition took her quite by surprise. She grew a little pale.
"I thought you could not afford to marry for years," she returned,shyly.
"So I thought," he replied, with a smile. "You see, darling, when wewere first engaged my sister was dependent on me, and at that timeTristram earned very little. Virtually, I had to keep him and Betty. Butall that will be changed now. We should have to be careful and livequietly for some years to come, but I am not afraid of the future. Mywork is increasing, as you know. I have had to take better chambers, andour last case was so successful that I am likely to have another goodbrief. Tell me the truth, my little Undine. Shall you be afraid to trustyourself to my keeping?"
Afraid! Need he have asked such a question? The dark eyes looked at himwith reproachful sweetness.
"Do you think I should fear anything with you?" she answered. "But,Thorold, are you sure you really wish it?"
But Thorold's reply was so conclusive and satisfying that Waveneyyielded.
Everard Ward had been reading his paper in old Ranelagh Gardens thatafternoon. The pleasant May sunshine had warmed and cheered him, and hewhistled like a boy as he let himself into the house with his latch-key.
But his cheerfulness soon vanished when he learned the purport ofThorold's visit. He was deceived, betrayed by the very man whom hedeclared would be a son-in-law after his own heart. He was to be robbedof his little girl.
What a fool he had been to trust the word of a lover! His knowledge ofthe world might have told him that they were all wolves in sheeps'clothing. Five years' engagement! This is what he had promised, thearch-traitor! and now he was coolly proposing that they should bemarried in August.
Everard nearly talked himself hoarse, in his effort to point out theextreme imprudence of the whole proceeding. In his opinion, he said, itwas utterly rash, foolhardy, and a gross tempting of Providence. All hislife he had been an example of the sad result of an impecuniousmarriage; his son had been indebted to charity for education, and hisdaughters had been without advantages. Everard waxed quite eloquent overhis theme, but Thorold refused to be intimidated. He demolished allEverard's arguments with the ease and facility of a skilful lawyer; andWaveney was on his side. Everard had no chance; from the beginning theywere both against him, and at last he had to throw down his arms. EvenAlthea took their part, and so did Mollie; but he yielded with a verybad grace, and though he tried to hide it from Waveney, he was sore atheart for many a day.
Waveney's feelings were very mixed: her sorrow at leaving her fathersomewhat damped her happiness; but Mollie comforted her.
"Of course it is hard for father," she said one day, when Waveney waslunching at Eaton Square. "He hates parting with his children. Don't youremember how low he was on my wedding day? But he soon cheered up. Itwill be all right, Wave, so don't worry. When you are once married hewill make the best of it. Moritz says he must leave Cleveland Terraceand take a nice flat somewhere near you; and when Noel is at Oxford hecan divide his time between us." And this view of the case was veryconsoling to Waveney.
Mollie was in the seventh heaven of delight just then; she was toprovide the _trousseau_ out of her own pin-money, and this thought gaveher so much pleasure that Lord Ralston declared she even laughed in hersleep.
But Lord Ralston's wedding present almost overwhelmed the young couple.He bought a house for them at Kensington and furnished it from basementto garret. When he placed the title deeds in Waveney's hands, she wasspeechless with surprise and joy. But Moritz refused to be thanked."Mollie's sister was his," he said, in his airy fashion, "and it was hisbusiness to see that she was properly housed.
"Chaytor is a good fellow," he went on, "and I respect him highly, andam proud to be connected with him. I shall stand your friend and his,as long as you both deserve it. And look here"--and here Lord Ralstonglanced at Mollie's delighted face--"if you and Chaytor would like to doyour honeymooning at the Hut, you are welcome to it." And when Waveneyrepeated this to Thorold, he said that it was far too good an offer tobe refused.
"Ralston is the prince of good fellows," he went on. "His generosity isas large as his purse. You will love those Scotch moors, Waveney. I havenot been in the Highlands for years; it will be grand to see the heatherand the grouse again."
* * * * *
After all, Everard Ward never had his flat, neither did he stay long atNumber Ten, Cleveland Terrace; another, and far different, fate was instore for him.
About three months after Waveney's marriage he went one afternoon to theRed House. He had only just returned from Brentwood Hall, where he hadmade the acquaintance of his first grandson; and, as usual, he wished totalk over the visit with his old friend Althea.
For they were very dear friends now, and, next to his own daughters, hevalued her womanly advice and sympathy.
In summer, the door of the Red House always stood open, and he went inas usual unannounced. No one responded to his tap at the library door,and as he entered he thought, for a moment, the room was empty.
The blinds were down, and the darkness rather bewildered him, coming outof the sunshine. But the next moment he caught sight of a grey figure inthe shadow of the curtain.
Althea was leaning back in her easy-chair. There was a green shade overher eyes, and her face was pale. Everard, who had never seen her beforein one of her attacks, was much shocked.
"You are ill," he said, taking her hand. In spite of the warmth of theday, it felt cold and limp. Then he looked round the room. "Where isDoreen? Surely she has not left you alone?"
"Doreen is at the Home," returned Althea, in a weak voice. "There is acommittee meeting. Please sit down and talk to me. I want to forgetmyself. No, I am not ill. The attack has passed off, only I am stupidand dull."
Dull! Everard felt strangely oppressed. The darkness; Althea's paleface, full of traces of suffering; the disguising shade, that hid thesweet eyes; the pathos, and helplessness, and utter weariness, soevident in the whole figure;--filled him with pity. Was this what shehad to bear?--she, who helped others, whose whole life was devoted togood works! who had been a guardian angel to him and his!
Everard felt a sudden impulse that seemed to impel him, in spite ofhimself. He got up from his seat and stood beside her. Then, as shemoved restlessly, as though disturbed by his action, he dropped on oneknee.
"Althea, my dear," he said, huskily, "we are neither of us young, and wehave both known trouble. But, if you would have it so, I should like todevote the rest of my life to you, to wait on you, and to comfort you."
Was she dreaming? Althea pushed up her shade a little wildly. But thegravity of his face left no doubt of his meaning.
"I cannot, I dare not accept it," she returned; and she trembled allover. "It is far too great a sacrifice."
"It is no sacrifice at all," was Everard's answer. "It is I who amunworthy of your goodness." And the proud humility of his tone struck toher very heart.
"I have loved you all my life," she said to him, later on. "Everard, itshall be as you wish. It will make me very happy to be your wife. I knowhow good you will be to me."
* * * * *
Doreen was rather troubled when Althea told her the news. Their peacefuldual life was over, she thought; but when she looked at her sister'sradiant face she chid herself for her selfishness. But she soon becamereconciled to the change. When Everard took up his abode at the RedHouse he became her chief adviser and helper. He brought his masculineintellect and energy to bear on all their philanthropic schemes, and "mybrother-in-law says this" or "suggests that" was for ever on Doreen'slips.
There was
no doubt of Althea's happiness. She and Everard were alwaystogether. Althea's sweet, large nature was never exacting. She knew thathe would never love her as he had loved Dorothy, but this thought gaveher no pain. How could she complain that anything was wanting when histhoughtful tenderness was so unceasing? when he never cared to be awayfrom her?
"It rests me to be near you," he would say. And, indeed, there was thetruest friendship between them.
Waveney and Mollie were devoted to their beloved Queen Bess, but "ourboy," as Althea always called Noel, was the pride of his stepmother'sheart.
And so, when her youth had passed, that faithful soul reaped its harvestof joy. "Thus the whirligig of Time brings in its revenges." ButAlthea's noble revenge had been much patience and much love.
THE END.
* * * * *
By John Strange Winter.
(Mrs. Arthur Stannard.)
The Peacemakers.
"'The Peacemakers' is a novel that has the characteristic merits of thebest work of this author; it is a well-told story, good in plot and incharacter drawing, and with an impressive touch of the tragic, thatcomes as a surprise. The world of 'John Strange Winter' is usually sobright and happy, its troubles are so bearable and vanish so quickly,that it is a novelty to find the shadow of death falling over it, as inher last story. And yet the tragedy is admirably told."--_BostonGazette._
Into an Unknown World.
"A bright, breezy novel, interesting in plot, with the woman charactersadmirably drawn, and with a heroine who is charming in her naturalness.The story is told in the simple, unaffected style that marks all Mrs.Stannard's work, and it is a healthy story."--_Boston Saturday EveningGazette._
A Magnificent Young Man.
"It is a story with an original plot, involving a secret marriage, themysterious disappearance of a bridegroom, and the experiences of a younggirl, who refuses to clear her reputation, even to the mother of herunacknowledged husband, until such a time as he shall givepermission."--_Boston Beacon._
Every Inch a Soldier.
"Of the incidents of the work before us, the plot is highlyentertaining, and incidentally we meet the Bishop of Blankhampton, whosematrimonial affairs were ably discussed in a book previously written. Itis a very pleasant and readable book, and we are glad to seeit."--_Norristown Herald._
Aunt Johnnie.
The Other Man's Wife.
Only Human.
The Truth Tellers.
* * * * *
By Mrs. Alexander.
Barbara: Lady's Maid and Peeress.
"'Barbara: Lady's Maid and Peeress,' the latest of Mrs. Alexander'sstories, turns on the fortunes of the natural child of an old lord, whoserves as lady's maid until the reading of a will shows that she is thereal heir to a fortune and a title. The heroine is a sensible girl, andthe story is very well told."--_San Francisco Chronicle._
Mrs. Crichton's Creditor.
"Mrs. Alexander's novels are decidedly of the higher order. They reflectthe lives and sayings of wholesome people, carry a healthy moral, andconvey valuable lessons to enlightened readers."--_St. LouisGlobe-Democrat._
A Fight with Fate.
"This is Mrs. Alexander's best story, and readers of her two previousnovels, 'For His Sake' and 'Found Wanting,' will at once recognize thisas high praise. It is an English story. The plot is good, is skilfullydeveloped; the dialogue is bright, the situations, many of them,dramatic. On the whole, it is a bright, entertaining novel, and one ofthe best of the season."--_Boston Advertiser._
A Golden Autumn.
The Cost of Her Pride.
Found Wanting.
For His Sake.
Mollie's Prince: A Novel Page 42
