A Heart-Song of To-day Part 18

"_Sans doute_," he says: "When petticoat does remain tender and true, it is hard upon her that her lord should prove false and fickle, given the warm corner our fair 'sisters, cousins, and our aunts,' are content to purr; they shine in society, and have gained what is the very end and aim of their existence, a wealthy marriage."

It is no wonder that poor Douglas, knowing the manner of man Trevalyon was, dreaded his companionship for Vaura; what if she should charm, as she certainly could if she would, the game would all be up for him; and even should Vaura, knowing his reputation as a successful male flirt, be on her guard. If Trevalyon determined to win her, the many fascinations of manner he was master of, he having made woman a study, would cause her, he feared, to succ.u.mb at the last. He felt unmanned, and decided to leave them and go at once for Isabel, and proceed back to England. For of one thing he felt sure, and that was that Trevalyon would be attracted by Vaura, if it were only for her originality, the freshness of her thoughts, her gay droll cynicism with no malice in it, merely showing she went through life with open eyes; her sunny temperament and gay conversation, to say nothing of her dear loveable self, and as he turned to look at her, her laughing grey eyes looking like stars, and a smile on her perfect lips, as she chatted gayly, he inwardly moaned at what he might never call his own.

"Come, Roland," Vaura cried, "there's room for thee, most grave and reverend _seigneur_; for you do look as grave as an owl this moment.

Is thy favourite pipe missing, or hast lost thy pet brand of that panacea for thy every ill, tobacco?"

"No, I am not bereft of my old friend, my meerschaum pipe; but, being only a mere sham," he added with a forced laugh, "I don't expect it to develop qualities that will console me at parting with you and Lady Esmondet, whose remembrance of me, I hope, will prove more than a sham."

"A pretty speech, Roland," said Vaura, stepping from the carriage to speak to him; "but I protest against this parting."

"You forget, Vaura, what my mission, at least my avowed mission, was,"

he said, in an undertone, "incoming to Paris; I shall now go for Isabel. And away, you have a man with you now who never thinks or cares for the hunger and thirst of the men near him; he drinks the cup of sweets to the dregs himself. Good-bye; think of me sometimes, for you must know you are always in my thoughts."

And stepping forward with Vaura, he placed her in the carriage, and wishing all good-bye and much enjoyment, saying to Vaura and Lady Esmondet: "Don't fail to make the Hall blithe and gay at Christmas by your presence;" lifted his hat and was gone. Trevalyon was not slow to see this little by-play, and his mental conclusion was:

"Another fellow gone, stricken by a fair woman face, well I don't wonder, by Jove; for the beautiful little girl has developed into a lovelier woman, a man need not be ashamed to be the conquest of a face figure, and I've heard men say, mind, like Vaura Vernon possesses; heaven be praised for the retreat of the Douglas, though had the Douglas been wise he'd have kept the field, or tried to, but now I, while guarding my heart, shall talk to her; it will be a pleasant way to kill time, and her vivacity, merry banter, chit-chat, or grave to gay, or who knows, tender humours, will be a pleasant study in Rome for the next month or two."

"Well, here we are snug at last," said Lady Esmondet, as they rolled along to their hotel in a comfortable carriage; "and I am not sorry, for _je suis tres fatiguee_. But I am really sorry Roland has gone; you will have to exert yourself, Lionel, if you don't want us to miss him, for we shall be altogether at your tender mercy."

"It is such seductive happiness the knowing you are leaning upon me, that I, Trevalyon, warn you both I shall do all I can to cause you not to regret the Douglas."

"You forget, _ma chere_ G.o.dmother," said Vaura, "that we also have Mr.

Bertram; he is a man of weight," she added laughingly, "and can surely share the weighty matter of our amus.e.m.e.nt with Captain Trevalyon."

Mr. Bertram has his weighty agency on his mind, you know; he is one of the agents sent by government to attend to our interests at the coming exposition, and as the Prince of Wales, heaven bless him, has personally interested himself to make the huge show one great success, they will all vie with each other in their different departments; indeed, I expect Mr. Bertram will only now have time to fly in occasionally to have a look at us. How about your lazy club life, Mr.

Bertram?"

"Yes, Bertram, your luxurious go-as-you-please existence is at London; you _a_ Paris," said Trevalyon gayly.

"I fully expect my gossips at the club won't know me on my return; I shall be a skeleton frame, rack and bones, and my aldermanic rotundity will be in the streets and audience chambers of Paris."

"A man of your size, Bertram, won't regret a few pounds of flesh weighed in the balance as against the success of our exhibits," said Trevalyon.

"Not while I remember," answered Bertram, "Gladstone's remarks in the _Fortnightly Review_, his almost prediction (unless we bestir ourselves): That England's daughter, the Great United States of America, may yet in the near future wrest from us our position in manufacturing of Head servant to the household of the world. Many of we British want a rough reminder like that."

"Yes," said Vaura, "some of our manufacturers forget that younger nations are wide-awake and eager to pa.s.s us by at a hand-galop, while we go dozing through time with our night-caps on."

"We are England, that's enough, and we cannot realize that the world moves. We plume ourselves upon the time when we handed from our docks everything to poor indolent Europe, or only for the ignorant colonies," said Lady Esmondet, ironically.

"_N'importe, chere_ Lady Esmondet," answered Trevalyon, merrily. "Our manufacturers will wake with a start in 1878, and forego both night- caps; they won't have time to brew the one or don the other in surprise at exhibits from the poor colonies and the ingenious Americans."

"I have no doubt our manufacturers with myself will not be off with our old loves, while we can keep them; my comforts are safe, for I seduced one of the cooks from the club to come here with me; so night or day caps are to the fore," said Bertram.

"I thought," replied Trevalyon, "for a man of your taste, you had a most contentedly jolly look; no wonder, when we know the way to the aldermanic heart is through the aldermanic stomach."

"Capt. Trevalyon," laughingly said Vaura, "besides the _recherche_ little dinner Mr. Bertram has bid us to, I want you to cater to-- another sense and let us see the immense Hotel Continental!"

"Consider the Continental on the programme, my dear Miss Vernon; Mr.

Bertram's _chef de cuisine_ will cater to the inner man," answered Trevalyon.

"Women sometimes eat," said Vaura, demurely.

"How gay the streets look," remarked Lady Esmondet, "it is always a _fete_ day _a_ Paris."

"A month or two ago the bands in the parks filled the air with music,"

said Vaura; "now it is filled with the murmur of many voices, see the little chesnut-seller doing his part."

"Here we are, _Hotel Liberte le Soleil_," said Trevalyon, as the carriage stopped.

"And here we part," said Bertram, "not, in the language of the poet, 'to meet no more,' but to meet on to-morrow eve at my appartments, and I shall inform my cook that three of England's epicures honour me, and to get up something better than frogs' legs."

"We shall expect ambrosia," laughed Lady Esmondet.

"_Tres bien_, I shall not forget," said Bertram, as he made his adieux.

"Au revoir, Bertram," cried Trevalyon. "And for your life don't forget a dish of turtle's liver from Voisin's.

"We have teased him enough at all events," said Lady Esmondet; "but as for turtle's liver, I am rather chary of it as yet. But do my eyes deceive me, or is it petticoat government here?"

"Yes, feminine rule is the order of the day," replied Trevalyon.

"How important we look in possession of office, desk and stool; I was not aware we had mounted so high anywhere outside the United States,"

said Lady Esmondet.

Here a man in neat livery stepped forward to show them to their suite of apartments, which Trevalyon, at the written request of his friend, had secured, who now seeing his companions _en route_ for their rooms, bent his steps in the direction of the office to complete the necessary business arrangements.

CHAPTER XV.

HEART-STIRS.

As our friends followed the servant, a child's cry proceeded from one of the salons as they pa.s.sed; the page had a comedy face, and Vaura thinking his reply might amuse, asked:

"Do the babies take care of each other?"

With a farcical expression, the man answered unlocking the doors:

"_Oui_, Mademoiselle."

"Women crow everywhere, for men are no where, and babies anywhere."

The maids seeing to bath and toilette, their mistresses met in the comfortable _salon_ which was entered on either side from each sleeping chamber and small boudoir; soon in pleasant converse, or pauses of quiet, as friends who know and love each other can indulge in; Lady Esmondet and Vaura pa.s.sed the time until the _entree_ of Trevalyon to escort them to the _salle a manger_ and _table d'hote_; as he sees them he thinks, "how charming they look refreshed and re-robed, each wearing gown and neck-gear, artistic in draping and colour. How is it that some women have (Vaura always had it), some innate gift in robing, causing one's eyes to rest on them and not tire, again both possess a subtle charm of manner; Vaura has as veil a voice that woos one as she speaks. Haughton shall have my warmest thanks for giving me such companionship; dear old fellow, he did not forget my request." And stepping to Vaura, he hands her a bouquet of sweet tea-roses, saying:

"You see, Miss Vernon, your Knight of the Lion Heart, as in days of yore you dubbed me, has not forgotten the b.u.t.ton-hole bouquets you used to make as child hostess; it is not aesthetic, as from your fingers; this is only from the basket of one of the people."

"_Merci_; as your unfashionably retentive memory bring me so much of sweetness, then am I happy in your being unfashionable." And as she fastened a few to her corsage, placing the remainder in a vase, she continued: "See, G.o.d-mother dear, my sweet tea-roses with their perfumed voice will remind us of our usual excursion on to-morrow."