By Birth A Lady Part 39

Laura's next act was to glance round uneasily at Mamma Bray and Sir Philip; but there was nothing to fear there: their attention was taken up by the audience, and from their position it was impossible for them to see where Max and his companions were seated.

The next moment Laura's eyes were directed towards Charley, as he sat sternly, fiercely looking down again, and then, softly, tremulously, and as if even the delicately-gloved hand deprecated what it was about to attempt, she laid that hand upon his stalwart arm, and he turned once more, frowning heavily, to encounter those great eyes, pitiful, imploring, swimming in tenderness. It seemed to him that it was pity for him, sorrow for the pain he was suffering; and as the frown pa.s.sed from his brow, he returned her gaze till her eyes sank shrinkingly before his, and the great long dark lashes fell to curtain them from his sight.

But her hand still rested upon his arm, pressing it more and more tightly; and again her eyes were raised to his for him to read in them once more the same expression.

Yes, it must be pity, sorrow for him; and he read them so, as, forgetful of all--opera, the hundreds around, even those in the box with them-- Laura came nearer and nearer to him, till he felt her soft breath upon his cheek as she whispered:

"Charley, I can bear this no longer. Will you take me home?"

They rose together, and Laura whispered a few words to Mrs Bray; the next minute they were in the corridor, and then what followed seemed to Charley like a dream--the coldness of air as they pa.s.sed through swing-- doors, the fastening of cloak and adjustment of hood, the descent of stairs, and the rattling of wheels; and then, with the recollection of what he had last seen--Ella Bedford's face turned smilingly towards Max--Charley Vining was seated in a street cab, rattling over the stones, with Laura Bray still clinging to his arm, to utter his name once in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, as, in spite of all he could do to prevent it, she flung herself on her knees in the rough straw, her rich evening dress forgotten, as she clung to his hand and pressed it to her burning forehead, kissed it, deluged it with her scalding tears, while, as he bent over her, he could feel that her sobs shook her frame as they burst from her labouring breast.

At length, partly by a few deeply-uttered words, partly by pa.s.sing his arms round and lifting her, Charley Vining had the pa.s.sionate girl at his side; but only for her to cling to him, sobbing fearfully, till they neared the house.

It was barely half-past nine, and as he handed her out, he would have parted from her; but she clung to his hand, and together they went up into the drawing-room, where, once more alone, Laura threw herself at his feet, clinging to him, sobbing hysterically, imploring him to forgive her, to be lenient to her; it was all for love of him--the love she had borne him so long without a tender word in return. She accused herself of want of womanly feeling, of baseness, of treachery, lashing herself with fierce words in her pa.s.sion, till, moved by pity, maddened by despair and disappointment, Charley Vining began to feel that he was but weak--that he was but man, after all. The icy coldness gradually melted away, and he whispered first a few words, then one arm was pa.s.sed round the kneeling form.

"Forgive me--forgive! It is all for the love of you!" sobbed Laura with a fierceness of emotion that startled him.

"Forgive you?" he said; "I have nothing to forgive."

And then Ella, the past, all was forgotten, as his other arm drew her nearer to him as she knelt, and the next moment, with a wild sigh, Laura's arms were tightly clasping his neck, and her face was buried in his breast. Then a click of the door-handle, a stream of light, and Laura was upon her feet, tall, proud, and defiant.

"Did you ring for candles, ma'am?" said the voice of the butler.

"Set them down," was the reply; and the man withdrew.

Charley had risen too, and was standing by her side.

"Go, now," she said, in a choking voice; "I can bear no more to-night.

But tell me--O, tell me," she cried, throwing herself at his feet, and clasping his knees--"tell me that you forgive me!"

"Forgive you, my poor girl?" said Charley softly, as he bent down to her, once more to pa.s.s his arms round her lithe form, when, with a bound, she was again nestling in his breast, but with her face turned towards his, and for a moment their lips met.

The next, Laura had hurried from the room; while, with every pulse in his frame beating furiously, Charley walked down to the hall, accepted the footman's a.s.sistance with his coat, and then he made his way-out into the great deserted street, to walk staggering along like one who had drunk heavily of some potent liquor. But Charley Vining's was a maddening sense. What had he done? He had not waited for the proof.

He had been weak and vile in his own sight; and as he staggered along, he anathematised himself again and again, and, as if appealing to some great power, he called upon Ella to save him from the degradation of his heart.

"False!--false!--false to her! A coward--a scoundrel--a villain! Why was I made with such a weak and empty heart?"

Then he walked on faster and faster for long enough, not heeding where he went, but muttering still:

"Fate, fate, fate! And I have done all that mail can do. I must submit, and I love her not. Do I not hate her--or has she conquered?"

"Hadn't you better take a cab, sir?" said a rough voice; and a policeman's hand was laid upon his arm. "It's too bad, r'aly, sir; but you gents will do it. Now, only think of coming into a place like this here, reg'lar lushy, and with diamond studs and gold watches and chains shining out in the light, and asking poor starving men to steal them!"

"I'm not drunk, my man," cried Charley, himself again in a moment.

"Thank you; get me a cab. Not a savoury locality!" and he glanced round at the dark lane and the ill-looking figures about.

"This way, then, sir," said the man; and he led him into a wider thoroughfare, where, a cab being called, and the policeman substantially thanked, Charley Vining was driven to his hotel, his brain a very chaos of doubt, despondency, and rage at what he called his baseness and falseness to his vows.

End of Volume Two.

Volume 3, Chapter I.

IN THE BALANCE.

As if to show him how long he had been heedlessly wandering through the streets, Charley found Sir Philip quietly seated at the hotel on his return; and though his father carefully forbore to make any reference to the past, Charley fancied that he could detect a sense of elation on the old gentleman's part--one which seemed to anger him more as his heart kept reproaching him for the evening's lapse.

But Sir Philip made not the slightest reference to the events of the evening, not even remarking upon Laura's indisposition; but there was an impressive way with which Sir Philip parted from his son that night, that Charley interpreted to mean satisfaction, and he frowned heavily as he sought his own room.

In spite of his troubled mind, without recourse to narcotics, the young man slept soundly and long, waking, though, with a strange heavy sense of oppression troubling him, as the thoughts of the past night's events came upon him slowly one by one, till he was half maddened, hating himself for the part he had played, or, rather, for his weakness.

Then he recalled Ella's quiet peaceful face as he saw her turn round to Max; and he asked himself why he should consider himself as in any way bound to her who refused to hold him by any ties. Morally he knew that he was quite free, and that, bitterly as he regretted the last night's tete-a-tete with Laura Bray, he had shed sunshine upon her heart, and left her happy and exultant.

Then he remembered his promise to accompany her to the terminus at Paddington. He could not go--he would not go! But that was some hours distant yet, and for a while he felt that he need not trouble himself about it.

But what should he do? Write a long letter to Laura, telling her that she was to forgive his weakness of the past night, and bid her farewell for ever, while he made immediate arrangements for going abroad somewhere? Was it too late in life for him to get a commission? If he could, he would have to wait months perhaps, and he wanted to leave England at once. Africa seemed to present the field that would afford him the most variety and change. He would go there for a few years. He could soon make arrangements; and in the excitement of hunting, he would find the diversion he so much required.

But then about Laura? He recalled the scene at Lexville, where she had hung upon his arm and wept; and then the events of the past night flashed upon him, and he groaned as he told himself that he had been cowardly and weak--that as yet he had had no proof that Ella was lost to him for ever.

What was the last night's scene, then?

He stamped upon the floor with impotent rage, and determined at last to forswear all ties. He went out directly after lunch to make preliminary inquiries respecting the means for leaving England. Paddington, Laura, Max, Miss Bedford, were driven from his mind, and he hurried along, but only to hear his name uttered as he pa.s.sed an open carriage; and starting and turning round, there was Laura, flushed and happy-looking, sitting with her hands outstretched to him.

He could not help himself, though he called himself weak and folly-stricken, as he took her hand in his, watching the bright flush give way to a deadly pallor.

"How she loves me!" thought Charley, as he leaned on the side of the barouche; and it was from no vanity or conceit; he was too true-hearted and genuine, too honest and simple-minded. "Why should I make her unhappy, perhaps for life, when, by a sacrifice, I can send joy into her heart--into the heart of that loving old man? What have I to care for, what to live for, that I should hesitate?"

"Ella!" his conscience whispered; but the whisper was very faint; it was hardly heard amidst the tumult of contending thoughts. The African scheme was forgotten, and Charley Vining was in the balance. One vigorous pressure on either scale would carry the beam down. How was it to be?

How was it to be? The indicator was pointing directly upwards, each scale poised and motionless. Coldness, distant behaviour, returned letters, an evidently favoured rival--a man almost beneath contempt-- misery for those who loved him, and more bitterness: all these in one scale; and in the other--

A pa.s.sionate determined love, strong as his own, a woman pleading to him for what he had so long refused, warmth, tenderness, no rivalry, gratification to Sir Philip, and, above all, the knowledge that on the past night he had allowed himself to be betrayed into a warmth for which he had been blaming himself as though he had committed a grievous sin.

Which was the scale to go down, when Laura was in trembling tones, and, in a retiring way, asking him to take the seat by her side, for the time would soon be at hand for the visit to Paddington?

Her voice trembled audibly as she spoke, but the latter scale did not go fiercely down: the indicator only moved slightly in Laura's favour, as, remembering his promise of the day before, Charley said he would go, and took his seat by her side. It was only a slight motion, and the faintest breath from Ella's lips would have sent that scale up--up--up rapidly, till it kicked the beam.

But there was no breath there, though Charley's heart still clung to Ella fondly. Laura's scale wanted a strong impulse in her favour, and as, half triumphant, half sad, she felt Charley Vining take his place by her side, she flushed, then paled, and again and again a strange shiver of dread pa.s.sed through her frame. Once even her teeth chattered, as if some fearful illness was attacking her. But the disease was only mental, and, seeking Charley's hand, her own nestled in it--clung to it convulsively, as if she dreaded even now that she would lose him, when so very, very near the goal of her hopes, of her plotting and scheming; and yet she had not known of his anger against self, and the plans for going abroad; though had she known them, she could have trembled no more.

Laura's scale was growing heavier; for Charley did not withdraw his hand, but let hers rest therein. It only wanted one addition either way now, for the weighing was just at hand--the scales were no longer evenly poised. Which was to sink boldly? The striking of the clock at five would decide it, and it was now four.

Volume 3, Chapter II.

THE WEIGHING.

If any one will take the trouble to refer to _Bradshaw's Guide_--that fine piece of exercise for the brain--for the month in the year in which the events being recorded took place, he will find, in connection with the Great Western Railway service, that whereas the down express left Paddington at 4:50 p.m., there was an up train due at the platform at 4:55.

It was to meet this latter train that Mr Bray's barouche was being rattled over the newly macadamised roads, with Charley Vining and Laura therein.