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"Thanks, I shall wait upon you as early as possible; to-night I go to the Quirinal."
"So sorry," and making her adieux she added "I cannot have you."
"Yes, Emmanuel is Victor to-night," said Vaura gaily.
The butler announced luncheon, and Priest Robert gave his arm to Miss Vernon, saying:
"And that is a woman! how are we of the clergy ever going to waken a throb of life into the soul of such!"
"Were you in the pulpit at this moment, Robert, I am inclined to think you would discourse as St. Paul on idle-wandering-about-from-house-to- house-women; he was severe on my sisterhood,"
"They were not your sisterhood, you have no part with such."
"There would be a double lecture from St. Paul," said Lionel as he took the end of the table, "could he enter the Russell Club, Regent Street some day what a Babel of tongues, what tid-bits of gossip would electrify him."
"Yes," said Robert Douglas, "a men and women's club would scarcely agree with his views of what our human nature should live for."
"I hear it is extremely difficult for a pretty woman to become a member of Eve's she is as a rule black-balled; so a fair face does not always win," said Lionel.
"I think it would be extremely stupid to belong to an exclusively women's club; so much of gossip would kill me," said Lady Esmondet.
"I don't know," said Vaura, "whether either of you gentlemen are aware of how by a clever _ruse_ our gay friend Mrs. Eustace Wingfield, notwithstanding her good looks, became a member of Eve's. She told my G.o.dmother and I of it soon after the occurrence."
"I have never heard of it," said Robert Douglas.
"Pray tell us," said Lionel.
"'Tis a long story," said Vaura, "in fact a three-volume one, but you shall only have a page or two. Between the President of Eve's the Hon.
Miss Silverthorne and Mrs. Eustace Wingfield, there is an old feud dating from their school days."
While at school Mrs. Eustace, then May Raynor, was the very incarnation of fun and mischief, Silverthorne being extremely plain and severe in style. The Wingfield estate bordered on the school property. Eustace, prospective heir to his uncle, often ran down from London, much to the dismay of the lady princ.i.p.al, for he was no end of a flirt. May Raynor's pretty face attracted him from the first, but Silverthorne had a soft spot in her heart for him. Jealous of May she reported her to the princ.i.p.al; for revenge Wingfield cast languishing glances at Silverthorne in church. She never having had a lover actually informed the princ.i.p.al that, when he came to her to sue for her hand, she, as her guardian, was to say him yea. On May being married and out of the school-room, to her adored, she, Silverthorne, vowed revenge, if ever in her power, so that, when two seasons ago, Mr. Wingfield bet May a box, during _la_ Bernhardt _saison_, against an embroidered dressing gown that she would be black-balled at Eve's, on Mrs. Clayton proposing her, the president, looking black, declared, on its being put to the vote on the following afternoon, she should have her two black b.a.l.l.s, Mrs. Clayton informed May. "Now, what shall, be my card," exclaimed May, "for my bet shall be won. I have it," and staining her face yellow with green gla.s.ses and unbecoming attire, she attended a woman's right meeting at which her enemy was chairman.
Seated immediately in front of the platform, Miss Silverthorne gloated over her changed looks. She was made a member. Her enemy saying to Mrs. Clayton, "How hideous she has become; how he will hate her!"
"What a green-eyed monster is jealousy," said Reverend Robert.
"But our gay friend won her bet and a stare at the Bernhardt, in spite of everything," laughed Trevalyon.
"But I fancy gay Mrs. Wingfield would not often be found at 'Eves;'
such an army of plain women would be too many for her," said reverend Douglas.
"Oh! no," said Vaura, taking his arm back to the sunlit morning-room, "she only goes occasionally to throw a white ball for a pretty woman."
"I have sometimes come across her with Wingfield at the 'Abermarle'; she likes a little ba.s.s mixed with the treble of her life," said Trevalyon.
"She is right," said Vaura, "one would grow weary of continually piping to the same key."
"Isabel tells me they are very gay at Haughton," said Reverend Robert.
"Incessant revelry seems to be a necessity in the life of Madame,"
said Lady Esmondet.
"Tastes differ, G.o.d-mother dear, the wild game of life that suits her palate would suit ours as badly, as (what she would consider) our tame game would suit her," saying which she joined Lionel, a little apart at a table strewn with music which he wished her to select from.
"Do you believe in presentiments _cara mia_?"
"Yes; but I am wondrously content and don't want eyen to think of presentiments."
"I don't either, _ma chere_," he said, a little sadly, leaning his elbows on the table, his head for a moment upon them, "but I have one now that the Fates are putting black threads on their distaff for me."
"Don't look so sorrowful or you will affect me."
"Did you and I live in Pagan times, _ma belle_, I should be tempted to offer incense at their shrine, so pleasing, that their black threads would give place to gold and silver."
"Your incense would be flattery; they are but women, what would they more," she said smilingly.
"There are women, and woman," he said absently, the grave look still in the eyes resting on her face.
"There is something more than usual troubling you; share it with me, do, and then you know you will only have half to bear," and for one moment her soft hand is on his arm, her eyes full of sympathy on his face.
"It is only a presentiment, _ma belle_," and his hand is laid on hers.
But now there is a tap at the door, and his servant says:
"Telegram from England, sir."
"My presentiment," he says, in same low tone.
"Face it bravely, it is not, I trust, bad news."
"It is," he says gravely, "for I must leave you."
Vaura turned pale, and Lady Esmondet said:
"No bad news I hope, Lionel?"
"Yes, dear friend, it is from Judith, and states that "Uncle Vincent is no better and wishes to see me," but she does not say at once, or if there be any danger."
"I am sorry, Sir Vincent is no better, but every cloud has its silver lining; you may not really be obliged to go; he may rally," she said kindly.
"Yes, that is true, I shall telegraph my cousin to know if I must go at once; if not, you will be leaving Italy so soon we may yet journey together."
"I hope so," continued Lady Esmondet.
"But 'tis hard for her," said Vaura, "a stranger in a strange land; can I do anything for her, write some of our friends to call upon her, anything, only tell me, the Claytons, are kind," and she is beside him in a moment.
"You are very thoughtful, but Judith is extremely self-reliant."
"Do not give way to depression, Trevalyon," said Reverend Douglas; "our paths cannot all be those of pleasantness."