By Birth A Lady Part 58

But the wedding trip was short on account of Sir Philip, who, though he did not complain, showed by his letters how eagerly he was looking forward to their return, which soon followed; and for them life glided on in a pleasant round of social enjoyment, either at Blandfield or the house Sir Philip had secured in Westbournia.

Two years had glided by, when, so as to do as others do in the season, Charley Vining was escorting his bonnie wife through the exhibition of the Royal Academy, though, truth to say, Charley had more than once been guilty of yawning as he stood before a grand specimen of Turneresque painting, for he said that he liked to see that sort of thing in a state of nature.

They were pa.s.sing from one room to another, when suddenly there fell upon Charley Vining's ears a strange sound--not loud, in fact it was very faint, but it was peculiar, and being somewhat bored and tired by the pictures, any little thing sufficed to attract his attention.

"Squea-eek, squea-eek, squea-eek!" went the noise, as of some mechanism slightly in want of oil; when, as Charley turned, his face suddenly became suffused, his broad chest swelled, his teeth were set, and his fists clenched, as, with flashing eyes, he looked like some refined and polished lion about to make a spring upon an enemy.

Ella saw what had attracted his attention at the same moment, and trembling like an aspen, the blood fled from her face, and her hands closed on her husband's arm as she tried to draw him away.

But she might as well have tried to move an oak, as the stalwart frowning Hercules who stood there gazing over his shoulder at a most carefully-dressed man, walking with a peculiar limp--a halt which told of a cork leg, without the wheezing squeak it gave at every mincingly-taken step.

Apparently familiarised to the noise himself, the dandy did not perceive that it attracted the attention of others as he moved along, catalogue in one hand, in the other the thin red-leather cord attached to a vixenish-looking toy terrier--an uncomfortable-looking little beast, that kept running between his legs or over the sweeping train of the elderly vinegary-featured lady by his side, winding the leather thong round the sound or else the cork leg, and once, in a rapid _pas_, securely binding the two; so that, what with his eyegla.s.s, his catalogue, and the dog, the gentleman seemed to have his hands completely filled.

"What picture is that, Maximilian?" suddenly exclaimed the lady, in a tone that was as acid as her looks; and she stopped short, with her back to Charley and Ella, and by the help of a gold eyegla.s.s inspected a painting.

There was no response; for the dog, the cork leg, and the thong, were in a state of tangle.

"Maximilian, I asked you the name of that picture!" cried the lady more shrilly.

"Bai Jove, there, don't be in such a hurry; don't you see what a confounded mess I'm in? There, now, hold Finette, while I look at the catalogue. Let me see, ah! yaas! Number 369. 'Dandy of the days of Charles II.' Bai Jove, ah! very fair indeed. Pity that style of dress don't come in again."

"Squea-eek, squea-eek, squea-eek" went the leg, as the admirers of the cavalier pa.s.sed slowly on; while, as they mingled with the throng, a long pent-up breath escaped from Charley Vining's breast, and apparently greatly relieved, he exclaimed aloud:

"Poor devil!"

"Pray take me out, Charley," whispered Ella; and for the first time he noticed her pallor.

"Take you out? to be sure!" he cried, as he tenderly drew her hand farther through his arm. "Really, though, for a moment or two, I felt as if I could have wrung his neck."

"Charley, dear husband!" whispered Ella; for at that moment there was again the sound of the leg, and Charley's breast began to swell and his eyes to flash.

"All right, little one, take me away," he said, smiling; "for I feel like a big dog scenting a rat. But there, my own, I'm frightening you; come along."

He drew her rapidly away towards the entrance, her breath coming more freely at every step; but not so fast but that they caught another glimpse of the lady and gentleman, standing in rapt attention before a fresh picture, and at the same moment heard, in tones that seemed as if they were expressive of profound admiration:

"Bai Jove!"

But that was the last time they ever saw Max Bray.

Volume 3, Chapter XXVIII.

HOME.

A week after, Charley and Ella were in the hall, and about to leave their house, when there was a summons at the door, and they retreated to the drawing-room.

"Mr and Mrs Hugh Lingon," announced the butler the next minute; and a fair fat young man entered, with a tall handsome lady, who threw back her mantle, and rushed at Ella, to clasp her in her arms, kissing and sobbing over her for a minute, before darting away, rushing at Charley Vining, throwing her arms round his neck, and kissing him with a loud smack.

"There! I forgot!" she exclaimed the next moment, half laughing, half crying; "but you won't mind, dear Hugh, it's only old Charley Vining, whom I've loved ever since I was a tiny girl. But my own dear, dear, darling Miss Bedford--for I can't ever call you anything else--I am so, so, so glad to see you again. And we were only married yesterday, and I wouldn't go anywhere else till Hugh brought me to see you both. And you will love me still, won't you?"

As she spoke she threw herself on the carpet at Ella's feet, clasping her round the waist, and nestling closely to her, and in spite of every effort, insisting upon staying there till they left.

There was no going out that day; for London ceremony had to be set aside for country hospitality, and it was late when the Lingons left, to start the next morning for Paris; as quaint, but as amiable and happy a couple as ever the sun shone upon.

But before leaving, heedless of his dark-veiled brow, Nelly Lingon told Charley that Max was married to "such an old screw-c.u.m--a rich old dowager; while Laura"--and she spoke now sadly--"Laura ran off with a French count, when we were all at Baden; and I'm afraid he's a brute to her. But I'm sorry for Laura, Charley," said Nelly; "for, after her fashion, I think she loved you!"

How the years glide by! Blandfield again, with Charley Vining more portly and n.o.ble-looking than ever. It is a glorious sunshiny day, and in his broad hat and velvet coat he looks free, happy, and hearty, as he leads a little gem of an Exmoor pony in either hand, on one of which is a st.u.r.dy-looking curly-headed boy, shouting with glee, and drumming the pony's sides with his little heels; on the other, a sweet-faced girl a couple of years older, whose fair hair hangs down to the waist of her tiny riding-habit.

But we have not done. Standing by a chair, placed upon the lawn, her hand held by Sir Philip Vining, not looking a day older, but watching with a grandfather's fondness the children led round and round, is Ella--the same sweet-faced gentle Ella as of old, with the same glorious cl.u.s.ters and braids looped back from her pure white forehead. There is a glow, too, upon her countenance--it may be from pride, or merely that from the sun, as she holds a shade above her shapely head.

And there we leave her in her home of peace, rich in the love of her husband, her children, and that of her new parent, whose great delight upon one occasion it was to superintend the placing of Ella's portrait in the library, side by side with the picture upon which he loved to gaze.

"How well they match, Charley!" Sir Philip said. "It is like making my room complete--her face is so soft and gentle. It is a splendid likeness. G.o.d bless her! she makes glad my old age; and," he added, with a glance of his old pride, "she is by birth a lady!--"

The End.