By Birth A Lady Part 38

"There is no need, father," said Charley. "We will have no more estrangement. You have wronged me cruelly to gratify your pride, but-- There," he exclaimed hastily, "I said there was no need for my being watched. I will be open with you as the day: ask me anything you will, and I will answer you freely. To begin with: I have been there this morning for the purpose of having Max Bray watched: one proof--only one more proof, father--of what I am seeking for, and your wishes will be accomplished--there will be no fear of the Vinings' escutcheon being lowered. One thing more," he said hoa.r.s.ely, and forcing his words from his lips, "and I have done; and we will return to Blandfield, where you shall help me to begin life again, father."

"My dear Charley," groaned the old man, "if I could but see you happy!"

The young man turned upon him a wistful mournful look before speaking.

"Let the past be now!" he said sternly. "It cannot be altered. Only leave me free for the present--don't hamper me in any way."

"But, Charley--"

The old gentleman whispered a few words in his son's ear.

"No," said Charley, shaking his head; "there will be none of that. If I were to knock Max Bray down," he said, with scornful contempt, "he would send for a policeman. My dear father, you are thinking of your own days: men do not fight duels now in England. Let us go out now--this place seems to stifle me. But don't be alarmed, sir; if I am beaten in the race, whether it be by fair running or a foul, I shall give up. I know that I have run the course in a manly straightforward manner, according to my own convictions, and as, father, I felt that I must.

But the running is nearly over, sir, and I shall give you little more pain."

"Charley, my dear boy--" began Sir Philip.

"Hush, father!" said Charley, checking him. "The time has nearly come for burying the past. Let us hope that some day the gra.s.s may grow green and pleasant-looking over its grave. At present, I see nothing but a black yawning pit--one which I shrink from approaching."

Volume 2, Chapter XXV.

COMING ROUND.

"From the Brays, Charley?" said Sir Philip, as they sat over their breakfast at Long's about a month after the meeting in Branksome-street.

"Yes," said Charley. "Mr Bray has taken a private box at Her Majesty's for to-night, and will we have an early dinner with them and go?"

"My dear boy, I trust you will accept the invitation."

"Do you wish me to, father?" said Charley.

"Yes, certainly," cried Sir Philip; "but not in that dreadfully resigned spirit."

"All right, sir!" said Charley, with a smile that he tried to make cheerful; and tossing the letter carelessly aside, he went on with his breakfast.

"You will write an answer, and send it by a commissionaire, of course?"

"No," said Charley. "I'll ride up there before lunch, and tell them. I want to see if my little maid Nelly has come back yet: she seems to make the Brays' place more bearable when one goes there."

Charley burst out laughing the next moment to see his father's serious face.

"Well, really, my dear father," he said, as he interpreted his look, "I how can you expect me to play the hypocrite?"

Sir Philip was troubled, but he said nothing; and soon after Charley retired to his own room, where, over a cigar, he sat turning about the various reports he had received from Branksome-street, wondering the while why none had come in the night before.

"Nothing of sufficient importance to send in, I suppose," he muttered; and then he sat musing and thoughtful, reading here that Mr Maximilian Bray went to his office, dined out at Crescent Villas, went to Saint James's Hall in the evening in company with Mrs M. and Miss B., returned to C.V., then back to lodgings; there, that Mrs M. and Miss B.

called at Bury-street, and Mr Maximilian Bray accompanied them to the House of Commons.

Day after day the reports were of a similar nature, all tending to show that Max was a most constant visitor at Crescent Villas, but little more.

Charley sat so long that he had to give up his projected ride, and sent a messenger with a note to say that Sir Philip and he would dine with the Brays at six, and accompany them afterwards to the opera. They were punctual to their time; and Laura, handsomer than ever, and most tastefully dressed, greeted Charley shrinkingly, while, going up to Sir Philip, there was something very winning in the way in which she offered him her cheek, and the old gentleman saluted her.

"Nelly come back?" said Charley quietly, as he took Laura down to dinner.

"No," said Laura; and as she spoke, there was a tremor in her arm. "I am to meet her to-morrow at Paddington-station. I thought perhaps--"

"I would go with you," said Charley smilingly. "To be sure I will.

What train?"

"Fifty-five minutes past four," said Laura huskily.

"I'll be with you," said Charley, "at, say, four or half-past three. I want to see her again."

Laura looked now pale, now flushed; and Sir Philip told her she had never appeared more handsome. Then, the dinner past, the carriage arrived, and they were driven to the Haymarket. Sir Philip had pa.s.sed in with Mrs Bray, and Charley was handing out Laura, when he felt a slight touch on the arm, and a note was pa.s.sed into his hand; but the bearer, unless it was the stolid policeman at his side, had disappeared.

In spite of himself, Charley uttered a faint e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of surprise as he took the note, and then looked round for the giver; and this was not lost upon Laura, who directly became fearfully agitated, leaning heavily upon his arm, so that he was compelled to half carry her into the crush-room.

"It is nothing; I shall be better directly," she whispered. "A sudden spasm--faintness; but it is going off fast;" and all the while she gazed in her companion's face with a terrified aspect, as if trying to read therein something that was certainly not visible.

"Suppose I leave you five minutes with the attendant, and get you an ice or a cup of coffee?" said Charley.

"No, no!" exclaimed Laura; "do not go--"

But her words were too late: he had pa.s.sed through the door, staying for a moment to read the note placed in his hands.

"Nothing last night. To-night Her Majesty's Theatre. Stalls, Numbers.

24, 5, and 6. Mr M.B. and the ladies. Tickets procured at Andrews's in Bond-street."

A complete work of supererogation; for the next moment a voice speaking loudly made Charley shrink back, and press his crush-hat down over his eyes.

"Bai Jove, no! Capital time, I'm sure," And the next moment Ella Bedford's white-muslin skirt had swept against Charley as he stood stern and motionless as a statue.

Quite five minutes had elapsed after Ella had disappeared before Charley moved. His teeth had been set, and a feeling of rage, bitterness, and hatred combined, had surged up in his breast. Had he liked, he could have stretched forth his hand and touched her; but he did not stir. But he was himself again as he felt a trembling hand laid upon his arm, and a voice that he hardly knew said softly: "Had you forgotten me?"

"No," said Charley earnestly, as, turning, he saw Laura at his elbow, very paler and with a strange shiver pa.s.sing from time to time through her frame.

"Are you unwell?" he said kindly, as he drew her hand through his arm.

"No, no," she exclaimed, brightening in an instant, as she leaned heavily upon that arm, and gazed almost imploringly in his face, her great dark eyes wearing a fascinating aspect that he had never seen there before; and thinking that he read all they would say, he turned frigid in an instant, and led her to the corridor, whence they were soon ushered into the private box.

But Charley Vining had not read those beseeching eyes. The interpretation was not for him then, or, in his mad anger, woman though she was, he would have dashed her to the ground, and fled from her as from something too hideous to live upon this earth. He did not read them then, for the key was not his; but, satisfied in his own mind that she was agitated on his account, he was coldly polite all through the first act.

Volume 2, Chapter XXVI.

TREMBLING.

Disturbed as Laura evidently was by some powerful motive, it was not long before her eye rested upon the occupants of the stalls immediately below, but two or three tiers nearer the stage. It almost seemed as if, as they sat side by side, she and Charley had seen them at the same moment; for involuntarily they both leaned forward, but only to draw back the next instant for eye to meet eye.

Surely enough, there was Max Bray seated between Mrs Marter and Ella Bedford, who, with their backs to them, had not seen the occupants of the private box. As for Mrs Bray, she had preferred a back seat, in which she was followed by Sir Philip, who insisted upon Charley taking the front, he caring very little now for the opera; while Mrs Bray found much more gratification in the ladies' dresses than in what she called, in private, "a parcel of squalling," and employed her lorgnette accordingly.