A Rent In A Cloud Part 22

"I dropped it, and he wouldn't give it back. I remember the day." And, as she spoke, she turned her head aside, but her sister saw that her cheek was crimson. Then suddenly she said, "How was it that you had such confidences together? I'm sure that, knowing my engagement, you must have seen how improper it was to listen to such nonsense on his part."

"I couldn't help it, Florry; the poor fellow would come to me with his heart almost breaking. I declare, there were times when his despair actually terrified me; and having heard from Aunt Grainger what dreadful pa.s.sions these Calverts give way to--how reckless of consequences--"

"There, there, dear, spare me that physiology of the race of Calverts, of which I have gone through, I hope, every imaginable feature. To poor Aunt Grainger's eyes the dragon of the Drachenfels is a mild domestic creature in comparison with one of them." There was a jarring vibration in her sister's tone, that told it were safer not to prolong the discussion, and little more was said as they walked towards the house.

At last Florence stopped short, and, pointing to the window of the room lately occupied by Calvert, said, "Joseph will dislike all those climbing creepers there, Milly; he hates that sort of thing. Let them be cut away."

"If you wish it, dearest; but is it not a pity? Only think of all the time and pains it cost to train that jessamine--"

"Oh, if they have such tender memories for you, let them remain by all means; but I think it will be quite as well not to tell Joseph the reasons for which they were spared."

Though the speech was uttered in irritation, Emily affected to hear it without emotion, and said, "It was Harry's own desire that we should not speak of him to Joseph, and I mean to obey it."

CHAPTER XVI. A LOVERS' QUARREL

IN course of time Loyd arrived at the villa. He came tired and worn out by a fatiguing journey. There had been floods, broken bridges, and bad roads in Savoy, and the St. Gothard was almost impa.s.sable from a heavy snow-storm. The difficulties of the road had lost him a day, one of the very few he was to have with them, and he came, wearied and somewhat irritated, to his journey's end.

Lovers ought, perhaps, to be more thoughtful about "effect" than they are in real life. They might take a lesson in this respect with good profit from the drama, where they enter with all the aids that situation and costume can give them. At all events, Calvert would scarcely have presented himself in the jaded and disordered condition in which Loyd now appeared.

"How ill he looks, poor fellow," said Emily, as the two sisters left him to dress for dinner.

"I should think he may look ill. Fancy his travelling on, night and day, through rain and sleet and snow, and always feeling that his few hours here were to be short ened by all these disasters. And, besides all this, he is sorry now for the step he has taken; he begins to suspect he ought not to have left England; that this separation--it must be for at least two years--bodes ill to us. That it need not have been longer had he stayed at the home bar, and had, besides, the opportunity of coming out to see us in Vacation. That it was his friends who over-persuaded him; and now that he has had a little time for calm reflection, away from them, he really sees no obstacles to his success at Westminster that he will not have to encounter at Calcutta."

"And will he persist, in face of this conviction?"

"Of course he will! He cannot exhibit himself to the world as a creature who does not know his own mind for two days together."

"Is that of more consequence than what would really serve his interests, Florry?"

"I am no casuist, Milly, but I think that the impression a man makes by his character for resolution is always of consequence."

Emily very soon saw that her sister spoke with an unusual degree of irritation. The arrival of her lover had not overjoyed her; it had scarcely cheered her. He came, too, not full of high hopes and animated by the prospect of a bright future, speculating on the happy days that were before them, and even fixing the time they were to meet again, but depressed and dispirited, darkly hinting at all the dangers of absence, and gloomily telling over the long miles of ocean that were so soon to roll between them.

Now Florence was scarcely prepared for all this. She had expected to be comforted, and supported, and encouraged; and yet from herself now, all the encouragement and all the support was to be derived! _She_ was to infuse hope, to supply courage, and inspire determination. He was only there to be sustained and supported. It is true she knew nothing of the trials and difficulties which were before him, and she could neither discuss nor lighten them; but she could talk of India as a mere neighbouring country, the "overland" a rather pleasant tour, and two years--what signified two years, when it was to be their first and last separation? For, if he could not obtain the leave he was all but promised, it was arranged that she should go out to Calcutta, and their marriage take place there.

He rallied at last under all these cheering suggestions, and gradually dropped into that talk so fascinating to Promessi Sposi in which affection and worldliness are blended together, and where the feelings of the heart and the furniture of the drawing-room divide the interest between them. There was a dash of romance, too, in the notion of life in the far East--some far-away home in the Neilgherries, some lone bungalow on the Sutlej--that helped them to paint their distant landscape with more effect, and they sat, in imagination, under a spreading plantain on the Himalaya, and watched the blood-red sunsets over the plains of Hindostan. "Time pa.s.sed very rapidly in this fashion. Love is the very sublime of egotism, and people never weary of themselves. The last evening--sad things these last evenings--came, and they strolled out to take a last look on the lake and the snow-white Alps beyond it. The painful feeling of having so short a time to say so much was over each of them, and made them more silent than usual. As they thus loitered along, they reached a spot where a large evergreen oak stood alone, spreading its gigantic arms over the water, and from which the view of the lake extended for miles in each direction.

"This is the spot to have a summer-house, Florry," said Loyd; "and when I come back I'll build one here."

"You see there is a rustic bench here already. Harry made it."

Scarcely were the words uttered than she felt het cheek burning, and the tingling rush of her blood to her temples.

"Harry means Mr. Calvert, I conclude?" said he, coldly.

"Yes," said she, faintly.

"It was a name I have never uttered since I pa.s.sed this threshold, Florry, and I vowed to myself that I would not be the first to allude to it My pledge, however, went no further, and I am now released from its obligation. Let us talk of him freely."

"No, Joseph, I had rather not. When he was leaving this, it was his last wish that his name was not to be uttered here. We gave him our solemn promise, and I feel sure you will not ask me to forget it."

"I have no means of knowing by what right he could pretend to exact such a promise, which, to say the least, is a very unusual one."

"There was no question of a right in the matter. Mr. Calvert was here as our friend, a.s.sociating with us in close intimacy, enjoying our friendship and out confidence, and if he had reasons of his own for the request, they were enough for us."

"That does not satisfy me, Florence," said he, gravely.

"I am sorry for it I have no other explanation to give you."

"Well; I mean to be more explicit. Has he told you of a correspondence that pa.s.sed between us?"

"Once for all, Joseph, I will not be drawn into this discussion.

Rightfully, or the reverse, I have given my word, and I will keep it."

"Do you mean to say that to any mention of this man's name, or to any incident in which it will occur, you will turn a deaf ear, and not reply?"

"I will not speak of him."

"Be it so. But you will listen to me when _I_ speak of him, and you will give my words the same credence you accord to them on other things. This is surely not asking too much?"

"It is more, however, than I am willing to grant."

"This becomes serious, Florence, and cannot be dismissed lightly. Our relations towards each other are all but the closest that can bind two destinies. They are such as reject all secrecy--all mystery at all events. Now, if Mr. Calvert's request were the merest caprice, the veriest whim, it matters not The moment it becomes a matter of peace of mind to me it is no longer a trifle."

"You are making a very serious matter of very little," said she, partly offended.

"The unlimited confidence I have placed, and desire still to place, in you, is not a little matter. I insist upon having a full explanation."

"You insist?"

"Yes, I insist Remember, Florence, that what I claim is not more my due for my sake than for your own. No name in the world should stand between yours and mine, least of all that of one whom neither of us can look on with respect or esteem."

"If this be the remains of some old jealousy--"

"Jealousy! Jealousy! Why, what do you mean?"

"Simply that there was a time when _he_ thought _you_ his rival, and it was just possible you might have reciprocated the sentiment."

"This is intolerable," cried he. Then hastily checking his angry outburst, he added: "Why should we grow warm, Florence dearest, over a matter which can have but one aspect for us both? It is of you, not of myself I have been thinking all this time. I simply begged you to let me know what sort of relations existed between you and Mr. Calvert that should prevent you speaking of him to me."

"You said something about insisting. Now, insisting is an ugly word.

There is an air of menace about it."

"I am not disposed to recall it," said he, sternly.

"So much the better; at least it will save us a world of very unpleasant recrimination, for I refuse to comply."