The Old Countess; or, The Two Proposals Part 45

Besides, there is your sister, eager for your interests and pining for your society."

"Poor Rachael! How does she bear the honors heaped upon her up yonder."

"Like an empress. Indeed, I never saw her really happy before. My father has all at once taken to adoring her. No wonder! Happiness has made her so grandly beautiful, so dashingly brilliant in all she says and does.

The new duke, who has just come down, is so taken with her that he scarcely leaves her side."

"I am glad of that," exclaimed Closs. "If ever a woman was born to control society, it is Rachael. Does she know I am here?"

"I have not told her yet. It will be time enough when all this tumult about the heirship has abated. And perhaps it will be best to let papa find it out in some natural way, when he will, I hope, be anxious to recognize you as Lady Ca.r.s.et's guest, and make atonement for his harshness at Oakhurst."

"What a wise little diplomat you have become, Clara!"

"Yes, I think so. It is just beginning to dawn on me that rash action is the worst kind of selfishness; how, just by a little kindness and a great deal of love, I, a harem-scarem girl, who never stopped to think in my life before, have reconciled an old family feud of fifteen years standing, brought Lady Hope triumphantly to Houghton, and swept ever so many cares out of my father's way, besides all the little pleasantness that my coming has given to the old countess. I wouldn't boast in this way to any one else, Hepworth; but these things make me proud and happy, so I tell them to you, as I whisper it to myself. When I first came here, it was with the resolution of appealing to grandmamma against Lord Hope's opposition to us, and, if she went against me, to throw up everything, and set them all at defiance. But one must have a hard nature to attempt such harsh measures with that sweet old lady. It would break my heart to leave her--wound my conscience to give her a moment's pain. As for her t.i.tle and her wealth, I tell you, honestly, they are enc.u.mbrances I do not want. A thousand times, rather, would I have her consent, with that of my father, and freedom to go with you where we pleased. I want no greatness or power for myself, unless it comes through the man I love; but for you, Hepworth, I am ambitious, and would rather a thousand times go to America, and share the honors which your own genius would be sure to win, as plain Mrs. Closs, than stay here as mistress of Houghton, a countess in my own right, and you only recognized as the husband of Lady Ca.r.s.et."

The hot color came and went in her lover's face as Clara spoke out the thoughts that haunted her about the future--his own thoughts expressed through her girlish lips. He turned suddenly, took her hands, and kissed them both with pa.s.sionate warmth.

"Oh, if they would but give you up with nothing but this glorious freedom, I should not have another wish on earth; but they are about to bury you so deep beneath their wealth and t.i.tles that I may not be able to find my love when I ask for her."

Clara smiled.

"You shall never ask for me that I will not come. There is not in all England wealth or honors enough to buy me out of your reach. Only let us wait patiently a little while longer."

"Sweet child! generous woman! Jacob never served more faithfully for his love than I am willing to wait for mine. Only this, we must not be kept apart."

"We will not be kept apart. Our souls belong to each other. No person on earth shall enthrall them."

"Then I am content; all the more because I know what utter desolation absence is. Ah, Clara, it seemed like an opening from Paradise when you wrote me to come here! Heaven knows where I should have been now but for that blessed note!"

"But you are here, safe and well, for which the good G.o.d be thanked!

Everything has happened without disappointment to any one, unless it may be Caroline's mother, the handsome Olympia. She is furious, Lord Hilton tells me. I am a little sorry for that poor woman. Of course, she wasn't just as she should be to Caroline, but I can't help liking her, after all. There that dear girl sits, like patience on a monument, waiting for me. I wonder what has become of Lord Hilton?"

Here Lady Clara and her lover separated; she joined her friend, whose garments were visible through the green of the leaves, and he walked toward the village, very happy, notwithstanding the uncertainty of his affairs.

As Hepworth entered his room at the inn, he was accosted with boisterous familiarity by Mr. Stacy, the New York alderman, who expressed the broadest astonishment at his presence there, and was anxious to know if it would break up his own mission to the castle.

Hepworth rea.s.sured him on this point, and gave some additional directions, which the alderman accepted with nods and chuckles of self-sufficiency, that were a little repulsive to the younger and more refined man.

"I understand Matthew Stacy is to be 'A Number One' in the whole business--sole agent of her mother's trust; by-the-way, who was her mother?"

There was a shrewd twinkle in Stacy's eye as he asked this, which Hepworth comprehended and met at once.

"Her mother was the first Lady Hope, the only daughter of Lady Ca.r.s.et, up there at the castle. She died in America while travelling there with her husband, about fifteen years ago."

All this was plain and simple. The alderman drew a deep breath, and the shrewd twinkle went out of his eyes.

"To tell the truth," he said, "I was thinking of that poor murdered lady, Mrs. Hurst. You know there was a little girl at the inquest that would have been about the age of this young lady; for I took a peep into the peerages, after you opened this matter, and I thought possibly that Mrs. Hurst and Lady Hope might be--you understand?"

"What! Identical! Did you mean that?"

"Well, no, not exactly identical--she was respectable enough--but the same person."

"But you forgot, Mr. Stacy, telling me that the young lady who appeared as a singer in the opera that night was that very child."

"By Jingo! you are right! I did that same. Of course--of course. What was I thinking of? How she did sing, too; ten thousand mocking birds in her throat, all piping away at once. What was I thinking of? Now, Mr.

Closs, while I'm gone--for I mean to strike while the iron is hot--just have the goodness to look in on Mrs. S., she will feel it a compliment, being a trifle homesick and lonesome down here. But tell her to keep a stiff upper lip; there isn't many ladies, not even your barronessers and d.u.c.h.essers, that shall outshine her at the grand party up yonder."

"The grand party!" repeated Hepworth, in amazement. "Are you invited there?"

"Not just yet, but of course I mean to be. One good turn deserves another, Mr. Hepworth--I beg pardon--Mr. Closs, and if I take this pile up to Castle Houghton, it is no more than fair that the young lady gives me an invite for myself and Mrs. S. Turn about is fair play, all the world over, Mr. Closs, and I don't mean to lose my chances. Some men would ask money for all this, but I am ready to put up with an invite.

Mrs. S. has set her heart on it. Ask her to let you see that red velvet dress that she got made on purpose, and the panier. Don't, by any means, forget to ask her to show you the panier; it's tremendous, I tell you."

Mr. Stacy stood for a moment longer, shaking the links of his gold chain up and down in one hand, as if he had something else to say, but not remembering what it was, he disappeared, and was soon driving, in the best carriage he could obtain, toward Houghton Castle.

Lady Clara was in her own room scolding, persuading, and comforting Caroline, when a card was brought to her, and she read, with astonishment, the name of "Matthew Stacy, Esq., Ex-Alderman, New York."

"Who is this person?" she inquired.

"Haven't the least hidea, my lady; he asked for yer leddyship, and would, on no account, see any one else, yer leddyship."

"Where is he now?"

"In the small drawing-room, yer leddyship."

Clara went down, excited by the painful curiosity which always disturbed her when she met any person from America. What could he want?

Alderman Stacy arose as she entered the room where he was sitting, and made three profound bows in the different stages of her advance from the door, then he sat down in a light chair. The delicate India carving began to creak under his weight, and he sprang to his feet again, looking over his shoulder at the combination of azure silk and lace-like ebony in awkward consternation. Then he took another chair, all cushions and softness, in which he sank down luxuriously, and began to fidget with his chain.

"You are from New York, Mr. Stacy--I think it was on your card?" said Clara, commencing the conversation.

"Yes, exactly, my--my lady--Empire State; besides that I have a little business with you--pleasant business, I may undertake to say; money, my dear young lady. Money always is pleasant. What ancient poet is it that says, 'money makes the mare go?' which means, I take it, that it drives men and women--I mean gentlemen and ladies--just alike. So I call it pleasant news, when I tell your ladyship that I have got a pile of it for you--American bonds, payable in gold."

"Money for me--for me?"

"No wonder you are surprised. The amount was an astonisher for me when I came to reckon it up. At first it was a mere nothing, only a few thousand, but gold, in my hands, grows, grows, grows, and now, my dear young lady, that little heap left by your lamented mother--you understand--"

"Left by my mother, and for me?"

"Yes, your lamented mother, the first Lady Hope, a lovely woman, but delicate, very delicate; carried off by consumption at last. Well, just before her death she sent for me--we were great friends, you know. Being alderman, in fact, president of the board, I had an opportunity to offer her some munic.i.p.al civilities, such as the use of the Governor's room to receive her friends in, and the freedom of the city. I a.s.sure you she had the broadest liberty to ride where she pleased, especially in the Central Park. Then we took her to the inst.i.tutions, and she had a lovely dinner on Blackwell's Island, for I was hand in glove with the commissioners. I don't tell these things to boast of 'em only to explain how she came to trust me as her executioner--I beg pardon--her executor, and send for me just as her spirit was taking flight."

"Oh! please tell me of that--of her--I do not care about the money,"

cried Clara, interrupting this pompous tissue of falsehoods, with tears in her eyes. "You saw her, you talked with her?"

"Often and often."

"Oh, tell me!"

"Not just now, young lady. Business is business, and we must not get things mixed. Some other time, after your great party, for instance, I shall be too happy, for Mrs. Stacy and I shall stay in the village, till after that august occasion; but now I come on business, nothing short, and I am in a hurry to get these ten thousand pounds American gold-bearing bonds off my stomach--I beg pardon--conscience. Here, my lady, is the pile of bonds. Every one will bring the tin when its wanted, no mistake about that."

Here Mr. Stacy laid a package of bonds in Lady Clara's lap, and stood with a beaming face, regarding her puzzled look, as she examined them.