CHAPTER II. MRS VAVASOR.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 405, 25 September 1889, Page 3

CHAPTER 11. MRS VAVASOR.

Thi: London express, due at Casbleford at 7.20, rushed in with an unearthly shriek, like Sin bad's black monster, with the one red, fiery eye. There were five passengers for the town — four men and a woman. The train disgorged them aud then fled away, shrieking once move, into the black October night. A wet and srusty autumn evening, a black and st<uless blast blew up from the sea, itnd whirled the dead leaves in drifts before it. The station, dreary and isolated, i as it is in the nature of stations to be, looked drearier than ever to-night. Far ofT the lamps of the town glimmered athwart the rain and fog, specks of light in the eerie gloom. The four male passengers who had quitted the train hurried with their portmanteaus, buttoned to the chin, and with hats slouched forward over their noses — honost shopkeepers of Castleford, but looking villanously brigandish in the light of the station lamps. Only the female passenger remained, and she came tripping up the platform with a little satchel in her hand, crisp and smiling to the chief station official. ' X b p l 1 your pardon, sir ; but can you tell me if the carriage from Scarswood Park is waiting for me ?' She was a beautiful little woman. Two great dark eyes of lustrous light beamed up in tho official's, face, and a smile that lie up the whole station with its radiance dazzled him. She had feathery black ringlets—she had a brilliant high colour — well, a tiitle too high, probably, for some fastidious tastes — &he had teeth white and more glistening than anything the official had ever seen outside a dentist's show-case — she had the tiniest little figure in the world, and she had — as tar as the official could judge, for the glitter of her "whole appearance — some three-and-thirty years. With the flash of her white teeth, the sparkle of the black oyes, the glow of the rose-red cheeks, she dazzled you like a sudden burst of sunlight, and you never stopped to think until afterward how sharp and rasping was the voice in which she addressed you. The carriage from Scarswood ? No, it had not — that is to say the official did not know whether it had or not. Would the lady be pleased to sit down ? there was a are in here and he would go and ascertain. ' I certainly expected to find it waiting,' the little lady said, tripping lightly after him. 'Sir John knows lam coming tonight. He is sxich an old friend of mmo — Sir John. It's odd now the carriage isn't waiting— tell them when they do come Mrs Vavasor is here.' ' The carriage has come,' announced the official on the moment. ' This way, niadame, if you pleate.' The close carriage, its lamps glowing like two red eyes in the darkness, its horses pawing the ground, its coachman stiff and surly on the box, was drawn up at the station door. The official held the door open — she thanked him with a radiant smile, and then Sir John Dangerfield's carriage was flying through the darkness of the wet October night over the muddy high road to Scarswood Park. Little Mrs Vavasor wiped the blurred glass, and strained her bright black oyes as the vehicle whirled up the avenue, to catch the first glimp&e of the house. It loomed up at last, a big black shadow in the darkness. Lights gleamed all along its front windows, and. the distant sound of music floated out into the night. Mrs Vavasor'? fascinating face was at its brightest — the sparkle in her eyes sparkled more than ever. ' A party — a ball perhaps. Let me see, the third of Octobor — why la petite's birthday, of course. Miss Dangerfield Heiress of Scarswood, is just seventeen to-night. How stupid of me to forget it.' She laughed in the darkness and solitude, a little low laugh not pleasant to hear. ' I wonder how poor dear Sir John will meet me, and what account he will give of me to his daughter? It couldn't have been pleasant for him to receive my note. I dare say by this time he thought me dead. She stepped out a moment in the rain, then into the lighted vestibule, then into the spacious entrance hall, where Mrs , Harrison, in a grey silk gown and white lace cap, and all the dignity of house-keeper,, met her curtseyf ' Mrs Vavasor j I think, ma'am ?' Mrs Vavasor's enchanting smile answered in the affirmative. 'Sir John's orders are every attention, 1 ma'am, and ho was to be told the minute you arrived. This way, if you please, and you're to wait here, ma'am, until he comes to you, '

She led the way upstairs, and threw open the door of a" half lib, elegant apartment;, all bright with upholstery, curtains, and carpet of blue and gold. ' How very nice,' Mra "Vavasor remarked, glancing pleasantly around ; ' and you are the housekeeper, 1 suppose, my good soul ? and your young lady is having a party on her birbhnight ? How pleasant it must be to be only seventeen, and handsome, and rich, and a baronet's daughter.' Mrs Vavasor laughed that sharp little laugh of hers that rather grated on sensitive ears. ' Miss Darigerfield is handsome, no doubt. Mrs— ah — ' 'Harrison, ma'am,' the housekeeper responded, rather stiffly. 'And Miss Catherine is very 'andsome indeed in my eyes. I'll tell Sir John you're here, ma'am, at once, if you'll please sib down.' But it pleased Mrs Vavasor to stand — — she turned up the lamps until the room was flooded with light, then walked over to a full-length mirror and looked at herself steadily and long. * Fading,' she said : • fading ! Rouge, French coiffures, enamel, belladonna, and the rest of it are very well ; but they can't make over a woman of thirty-seven into a girl of twenty. Still, considering the life J've led ' — she s>et> her teeth like a little lion-dog. • ' Ah, what a bitter fight the hnfctle of life Uaa V»c^n for m© ! If I were wise I would p cket my wrongs, forego my vengeance, keep my secret, and live happy in Scarswood Hall for ever after. I wonder if Sir John would marry me if I asked him? 1 The door opened and Sir John came in. Little Mrs Vavasor turned round from the glass, folded her small hands, and stood and looked at him with a smile on her iace. He was very pale, and grim as the grave. So for a moment they stood, like two duellists waiting for the word, in dead silence. Then the lady spoke : ' How do you do, Sir John ? When we parted I remember you found me admiring myself in the glass ; when we meet again, after fifteen years — Uie.ii ! how old it makes one feel — you find me before the glass again. Not admiring myself this time, you understand. I sadly tear I have grown old and ugly in all those hard-fought years.- But you — you're not a day older, and just the same handsome, stalwart soldier I remember you. Won't you shake hands for the sake of old times, Sir John, and say "you are welcome" tv a poor libctle woman who has travelled all the way from Paris to see you ?' She held out her little gloved hand. He drew away with a gesture of repulsion, and crossing to the chimney-piece leaned upon it, his face hard and set, in the light of the lamps. ' Why have you come here V he asked. 'Ah, Giel i hear him ! — such a cruel question. And after fifteen years I stand all alone in this big pitiless world, a poor little friendlebs woman, and I come to the gallant gentleman who fifteen years ago stood my friend — such a friend — and he asks me in that cruel voice why I have come !' ' That will do, Mrs Vavasor — this is not a theatre, nor am lan appreciative audience. Tell me the truth, if you ean — let us have plain speal ing. Why have you come here? What do you want ?' 1 That is plain language certainly. I have come here because you are in my power—absolutely and wholly in my power. And I want to stay here as an honoured guest just as long as I please. Is that plain enough to satisfy you, or would you like me to put it still plainer ?' Her deriding black eyes mocked him, her incessant .smile sethis teeth on edge. Hatred — abhorrence —were in his eyes as he looked at her. •You want money, I suppose ? Well, you shall have it, though I paid you your price long ago, and you, promised to trouble me no more. But you can't striy here ;it is simply impossible.' 'It is simply nothing of the kind. I have come to .stay — my luggage is down yonder iv the hall, and you will tell them presently to fetch it up and show me to my room. I do want money — yes, it is the universal want, and I mean to have it. Eight thousand a year and Scarswood Park, one of the finest seats in Sacaex. And such an old family ! — baronets created by James the First, and knights centuries and centurieb before ! How proud your daughter must feel of her ancient name and lineage !J! J And Mrs Vavasor laughed aloud, her tinkling laugh that struck shrilly on hypersensitive ears. 'You will leave my daughter's name out of the question, if you please,' the baronet retorted haughtily ; ' such lips as yours sully her name. If you had one spark of womanly feeling, one grain of self-respect left from the lite you have led, a woman's heart in your breast, you would never come near lier. In Heaven's name qo — I will give you anything, anything, only don't insist upon staying here.' For answer she walked back to the mirror, and deliberately began removing her bonnet, gloves, and mantle. 'As I intend going down and joining your party presently, and being in troduced to the county families, I think I will go up to my room at once, if you please, Sir John. By the way, is Mr Peter Dangerfield one of your guests on this happy occasion ? It strikes me now I should like to know him. He is your only brother's only son and heir-in-law — after ,yonr daughter, of course. How awkward for that young gentleman you 3hould have a daughter at all. And the estate is strictly entailed to the nearest of kin.' There was a gleam of almost dangerous malice in her eyes as she turned from the mirror. ' Yes, I am really anxious to make the acquaintance of Mr Peter Dangerfield.' He turned almost livid — he made a step towards her. ' You would not dare,' he said huskily ; ' you wretch ! You would not dare — ' ' I would dare anything except being late for Miss Dangerfield's birth-night party. Just seventeen ! a charming age and an heiress, and a beauty, no doubt ? Ah ! what a contrust to my waning youth ! I grow melancholy when I think of it. / was seventeen once, . too, Sir John, though to look at mo now you mightn't believe it. Ring the bell, please, and let that nice old creature, your housekeeper, show me to my room. And when I'm ready — say at ten o'clock — you will come for me here, and present me to your guests. No, realty, baronet— not another word to-night on that subject. These serious matters are so exhausting ; and remember I've been travelling all day. Ring the bell. : He hesitated a moment, then obeyed. The look of a hunted animal was in his eyes, and she stood there mocking him to his face. It seemed about as unequal a contest as a battle between a huge Newfoundland and a little King Charles, and the King Charles had the victory this time. Mrs Harrison answered the bell ; in the brief interval no word had been spoken. • You will show Mrs Vavasor to her room,' Sir John said shortly and sternly, turning to go. 1 And I will be dressed by ten, and you will call for me here,' responded Mrs Vasasor gayly, over her shoulder. ' How forbuI .nate I have been in nob missing the oppor- \ tunity of offering my congratulations to 1 -Miss'Dangertield. '

i, , And then humming a gay French air, Mrs Vavasor followed the housekeeper up another broad oaken stairway, along a carpeted corridor and into a velvet-hung chamber, bright with firelight and waxlight, luxurious with cushions, chairs, and lounges, fragrant with hothouse flowers, and rich with pictures. 'Your trunks are in the wardrobe adjoining, ma'am,' Mrs Harrison said : ' and if there is anything 1 can do or if Miss Ratherine'B maid—' 'You good creature !' Mrs Vavasor answered. 'No, lam my own maid I haven't eight thousand a year, you know, like your darling Miss Katherine, and can't aflord luxuries. Thanks, very much, and —good-night ;' and then the door closed gently in the housekeeper's face, the key was turned, and Sir John's guest was alone. She stood and looked round the room with a smile, that incessant smile that grew just a little wearisome after the first half hour or so. In the golden gleam of the light the carpet looked like a green bank of June roses, the silken draperies shimmered, and the exotics in their tall glasses periumed the warm air. Outside the rain beat and the wind blew, and the ' blackness of darkness ' reigned. She listened to the wild beating of the storm in the park with a little delicious shiver. •is it like my lite .' sne saiu soiciy. ' Have I come out of the rain, and the wind, and the night to the roses, and wax-lights, and the music of existence? Or is the gypsy* vagabond instinct too strong in me, and will the roses fade, and their perfume sicken, and the lights grow dim, and I throw it all up some day, and go back to the old freedom and outlawry once more ? The cedar palace and purple robes of the king look very inviting, bub I think I would rather have the tents of Bohemia, with their freedom, and the stars shining through the canvas roof.' An hour later there descended to the long drawing-room, a lady — a stranger to all there. She appeared in the midst as suddenly as though she had dropped from the rainy skies, a charming little vision, in amber silk and Chantilly flounces, and diamonds, and creamy roses in her floating feathery black hair. A little lady whose cheeks outshone all roses, and whose eyes outflashed her diamonds, and whom Sir John Dangerfield introduced to his guests as MVs Vavasor. Who was Mrs Vavasor ? Women looked at her askance — the stamp of adventuress was on her face and raiment. The rouge was artistic, but it was rouge the amber silk was shabby, the Chantilly a very clever imitation, the diamonds Palais Royal beyond doubt. And then Sir John was so pale, so gloomy — the old soldier, not used to society masks, showed his trouble all too plainly in his perturbed face. A woman not of their order — and the ladies' bows were frigid and chilling as the baronet presented her. But the men — what did they know of shabby silks and brownish laces ? They saw & brilliant little fairy of — well fi ve-and-twenty summers, perhaps — by lamplight — with the eyes and teeth of a goddess. ' But, Miss Dangerfield, Sir John — Miss Dangerfield ! Miss Dangerfield ! ' Mrs Vavasor cried, tapping him playfully with her fan ; ' those people are not the rose, though they have come to-night to do honour to that gorgeous flower. lam dying to behold Miss Dangerfield.' The stormy blue eyes of the Indian officer flashed : he gnawed his mou&tache, with an oath only heard by the lady on his arm. Her shrill laugh answered it.* ' For shame, Sir John ! So ill-bred too ! And that face ! You look like the Death's head the Egyptians used to have at their banquets. What loill people say ? There I see her — I see her, that is Kathleen. ' She stopped short, still holding lair John's arm, and a vivid light came into her black eyes. The baronet's daughter was advancing on the arm of Mr Gaston Dantree. ' Katherine,' her father said, bringing out every word with a husky effort, ' this is Mrs Vavasor, a vei'y old fri — acquaintance.' If his life had been at stake, he could not have said ' friend. ' 'You have heard me speak of her ; she is our guest for the present.' He turned abruptly, and walked away. Katherine Dangerfield held out her hand — tor the first, the last time— to her father's acquaintance. Their eyes met, and on the only occasion, perhaps, in all her seven-and-thhty years of lite those of the elder woman fell. The bright grey eyes of the girl looked straight through her, and distrusted and disliked her wibh that first glance. ' My father's friends are always welcome to Scarswood.' She said it very briefly and coldly. • May I beg of you to excuse me now ; I am engaged for this waltz to Mr Danjree/ She was looking her best to-night, and almost pretty ; but then ' almost ' is a very wide word. She wore pink tissue, that floated about her like a rosy mist, with here and there a touch of priceless old point, and a tiny cluster of fairy roses. She had pearls on har neck, and gleaming through her lovely auburn hair, a rich tea-rose nestling in its silken brown. She looked graceful ; she looked unspeakably patrician ; she carried herself like a young princess. And the vivid light in Mrs Vavasor's black eyes grew brighter as she watched her float away. ' She has her mother's face,' she whispered to herself ; ' she has her mother's voice — and I hate her for her mother's sake. A homB in Scarswood for ever, the flesh-pot of Egypt, the purple and fine linen of this life would be very pleasant things, but revenge is pleasanter still. ' One 1 of the gentlemen to whom she had, at her own special request, been introduced, came up, as she stood, and solicited the pleasure of a waltz. 1 1 am sure you can waltz,' he said ; ' I can always tell, by some sort of Terpsichorean instinct, I suppose, when a lady is or is not a waltzer.' Mr Peter Dangerfield was right at least in this particular instance ; Mrs Vavasor waltzed like a fairy — like a French fairy, at that. She and the baronet's daughter whirled past each other more than onee — Katherine with her brown hair floating in a perfumed cloud, her lips breathless and apart, and her bright eyes laughing in her partner's face. 'Is she in love with that very handsome young man I wonder?' Mrs Vavasor thought ; ' and is he rich, and in love with her ? If so, then my plan of vengeance may be frustrated yet. 5 1 Mr Dangerfield,' to her partner, « please tell me the name of that gentleman with whom Miss Dangerfield is dancing? It strikes me I have somewhere seen his face before ' 'Not unlikely, he's been everywhere. His name is Gaston Dantree, and he is, I believe, a native of the State of Louisiana.' 'An American ! He is very rich, thenall those Americans are rich.'" ' • Dantree is not. By his own showing, he is poor as a church-mouse'; his only wealth is his Grecian profile and his tenor .voice.' i There was just a tinge' of bitterness in his tone as he looked after the handsome Southerner and'his partner.

"My face is my fortune, sir, she said,* 1 ' hummed gaily Mrs Vavasor. ' How, then, comes monsieur to be here, and evidently first favourite in the regards of Sir John's heiress V 'His handsome face and musical tenor again. Miss Danererfield met him at a concert, nob three weeks ago, and behold the result ! Wo, poor devils, minus classic noses, arched eyebrows, and the voices of archangels, stand out in the cold and gaze afar off at him in Paradise.' ' Does Sir John like it ?' 1 ' Sir John will like whatever his daughter like?. Any human creature persistent enough can do what they please with Sir John. For his daughter, he is her abject slave.' The bitterness was bitterer than ever in Mr Peter Daneerfield's voice ; evidently the heiress of Scarswood and her handsome Southerner were sore subject?. He was a pale-facerl, under-sized young man, with very light; hair and eyes— so light that he was hopelessly near-sighted — and a weak, querulous voice. It teas just a little hard to see Se.irswood slipping out of the family before his very eye* through the headstrong whims of a novel-reading, beauty loving chit of a girl. He, too, was poor— poor as Gasfcon Dantree himself — and at tliirtv ivnmmrm u-Jia the gori or his idolatry, and to reign one day at Scarswood, tho perpetual longing of his life. • And Miss Dan^erfield is a young lady who«e slave? mii«t obey, I think ; and Scarswood will fzo out of the family. Such a pity, Mr Dinjrerfield ' Now, I should think you mij^ht prevent that.' She made this audacious home-thru«t looking him full in his pale, thin face with her black, resolute eyes i Tho blood flushed redly to the roots of his dull yellow hair. •I! My dear madame, 1 -with a hard laugh — '/ stand no chance. I'm not a handsome man.' 'Miss Dangerh'eld— I am a woman, and say may so— is not. a handsome girl.' •All the greater reason why she should •worship beauty in others Gaston Dan tree, without a sou in his pocket, a foreigner, an adventurer, for all we know to the contrary, will one day leign lord of Scarswood. See them now ! Could anything be more lover-like than they are, Mrs Vavasor?' He spoke to her a*, though he had known her for years. Somo rapport made those two friends at once. She looked where ha pointed, her smile and glance at their brightest. The waltz bad ended ; leaning on her partner's arm, the last flutter of Mis 5 : \ Dangerfield's pink dress vanished in the green distance of the conservatory. 'I see ; and in spire of appearance?, Mr Dangertield, I wouldn't mind betting — my diamonds, say, against that botanical specimen in your buttonhole — that Mr Ga3ton Dantree, Grecian profile, tenor voice, and all, will never reign lord of Scarswocd ; and for you — why you know the old rhymo : " He either dreat's his fate too much. Or his deserts an; small, Who fears to put it to the touch. To win or lose it all." ' She walked away, with her la~t words, her ever-mocking laugh nomine back to him where he ptood. What did the woman mean ? How oddly she looked and spoke. How could she prevent Ga=ton Dantree marrying Katherine ? But th>^ !.'.- 1, ;uhioe was good— why desi>air before .-.peeking ? (To be continued )