CHAPTER XXI. AN ANXIOUS MOTHER.

Waikato Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2057, 12 September 1885, Page 5 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XXI. AN ANXIOUS MOTHER.

" Ethel," said Lady Pierpont that evening, " send away your maid — I want to talk to you." Lady Ethel sighed ; the one dread of her life was the " little talks " that Lidy Pierpont often extended into hours of lecture. When tho jewels were taken from her shining hair, and the rich dross of silk was thrown aside, the maid brought out a beautiful wrapper of rose-colored cashmere, richly embroidered, a tiny pair of rope satin slippers for the little feet, and Lady Ethel lay back with a sigh of relief. " You may go," she Baid to her maid ; and, as the girl left tho room, L«idy Pierpont entered it. " I am very tired, mamma," said the girl. " I know quite well that you have a lecture for me. You will be as quick as you can, will you not? " Lady Pierpont looked at that most lovely face. The delicate rose-bloom was in some slight degree lessened; the fiae eyea had a tired, weary expression. Lady Pierpont was on the alert in a moment ; her daughter's beauty was the one great pride of her lifenothing must touch that. " You do look tkod, my dear ; you must ba careful of yourself. I have only como to ask you a question, and to give you a little advice." "I am so tired of advice, mamma dear. I havo had nothing but advice since I was ten yearn old," Baid the beauty, resignedly. " Well, my dear, you have proli'cd by it, I am sure," said Lady Pierpont. " I want to ask you, Ethel, is there anything between you and Lord Carsdale ?" The beautiful, proud face flushed, then grew pale as death. " No, mamma, there is not," she replied, haughtily. '•Tell me, Ethel, has Lord Carsdale said anything to you— has he made an offer ? " " No, mamma, he has not." " Wnat were you talking about all this evening ? 1 knew of your ramble on the shore." " We talked about riddles— and Gibraltar," she replied. " lliddles 1 " repeated Lady Pierpont ; " that was a strange theme. Then he has not what is commonly called made love to you, Ethel?" "No, he has not, indeed," she replied, earnestly. " That seems strange, too, for Lady Waldrove was talking to me this evening, and she said that she had never seen one creature so desperately in love with another aa Lord Carsdale is with you." The beauty laughed ; but if Lady Pierpont had been keener, she would have known that laugh was full of bitterness and pain. "He takes very good care not to show it, mamma," she replied ; and Lady Pierpont looked, as she felt, surprised. "There I oannot agree with you, Ethel; indeed, it is of that I have come to speak to you. Lord Carsdale seems to be very much in love with you ; he follows you everywhere ; he is like your shadow; indeed, he almost seems to lose his reason when you are near ; but that is very natural, you are so beautiful, my dear. lam sure that Lord Carsdale loves you ; but you, perhaps, have not given him any encouragement." Her faoe burned as she remembered all the encouragement she had given him. '• He has not presented himself to me in the character of a lover, mamma," she Baid, evasively. " You may rely upon it he will do so, my dear ; and now we come to what I wanted to' say. Of course you might do better. With your beauty you might be Duchess of Mount Severne, as I am sure the Duke worships you; you might be Grand Duohesß of Hollenstein; but bath your papa and myself will fully consent to your being Lord Carsdale's wife. You will be Countess of Waldrove in the course of time, and it is one of the finest estates and oldest titles in England; besides which I really like Lord Carsdale ; he is very handsome, he is good form, he is a gentleman in every sonse of the word.'' ' There ia one thing, mamma — I cannot be Lady Carsdale unless I am asked." " Certainly not, my dear ; but you are sure to be asked — one look from you seems sufficient. I tell you that Lord Carsdale ia desperately in love with you ; hia mother ought to know, and she says the same thing." " We will talk about it, mamma, when the offer is made ; and now, thank you for your advice ; lam so tired, dear." " I should like to know, Ethel, what you yourself think of Lord Carsdale ?" asked Lady Pierpont, anxiously. Her daughter smiled satirically, as she answered : " I have been too oarefully brought up, mamma, even to think of liking any one who has not declared something more than a liking for me." Lady Pierpont kissed her, and told her she waa a comfort. " You really are a comfort to me, Ethel," she said. " When I hear other mothers talking about their children, deploring their obstinacy, I am thankful that I have a sweet, docile daughter,' And with those pleasant words, Lady Pierpont went away slightly puzzled. Certainly Lord Carsdalo appeared to love her daughter ; his mother had said it. It seemed strange that he 'should not have been in a greater hurry to mako that brilliant prize his own. Lady Ethel rose from her seat with a great sigh. She stretched out those fair, white arms; then they fell listlessly by her side. " I cannot understand it," she said to herself. " I thought he loved me. If ever love shone in a man's faoe, or spoke in his voice, it does in his ; if ever a man looked as though his wholo soul had left him and lay at my feet, Lord Carsdale looks so. I could swear that he lovea me ; he trembles like a child before me, and yet saya nothing. My heart beats and my face burns when I remember what encouragement I have given him. I have almost told him that I care for him, yet he either doea not or will not understand. I was ashamed of myself when I sang that song ; why, even a baby would have understood me." Her beautiful eyes filled with tears. " So many people have loved me," she thought. " I have never cared for any one except him. I— Hove him," ohe added; "I love him, and I will remain unmarried all my life ; I will marry no one but him. The Duke of Mount Severne is as nothing compared to him. Others may think as they will, I main-

tain that Lord drsdale is the handsomest man in England. I wonder why ho does not love me, or, if he does, why cannot he say so?" They went the following morning ; and as Lady Waldrove atood at the window kissing her hand to the oosupants of the carriage, she said : " There goes the loveliest and the nicest girl in England." Lady Gertrude, who stood by her mother's Bide, B&id : " Thank you, mamma." The countess turned to her quickly. " I mean no disparagement to you, my dear, but she is a most beautiful girl. lam sorry to lose her." "So am I," aaid Lady Gertrude ; " and, mamma, I am quite sure that Vivian is most desperately in love with her. I saw tears in his eyes last night." " Has she refused him ?" asked Lady Waldrove, quickly. "I do not know ; he looks very miserable." " She must have refused him, then," thought Lady Waldrove, " and all my beautifully arranged scheme is at an end." She could not rest until she had seen her son ; then she went to him, "Vivian, you are lookiag very unhappy this morning ; tell me, has Lady Ethel refused you?" "11 -fuse ma what, mother?" ho said, quickly. ' Infused to be your wife, dear," said the countess, meekly. " No ; she could not refuse me, for the simple reason that I have never asked her," he answered, abruptly. And his lady motherj'smiled. All, then, was going on well. " I should like to give you a hint, Vivian," she said, " if you will not be off3nded." "You cannot offend me, mother," ho replied, gently. " Hint, or speak straightforwardly, as you like." "I think, then, my dear Vivian," she said — at least, lam sure, that Lady Ethel likes you." His face grew pale as death, with great drops of anguish on his brow. " Likes mo. mother?— that beautiful, innocent (-irl I What do you mean ?" '' I mean juat what I say," replied the countCßB, slowly. " Lady Ethel likes you so well that if you ftak her to be your wife Bhe will not refuse." "You told me, mother, that her beauty was not for me," he said, in a voico of bitter anguish. " And I believed bo; Lady Pierpont could with justioa look much higher; but I repeat that she likes you, Vivian, well enough to be your wife if you ask her." She might well wonder. Ho turned abruptly away, with a deep groan. He walked rapidly aoross the corridor out of sight, his mother watohing him, as she said to herself : " Poor boy I he has the love fever, and no mistake." Lord Carsdale went out of the house, longing to be somewhere alone, where he could give free vent to the aDgor, the annoyance, the vexation, the regret, and the love that was consuming him. He walked quickly until he reaohed the sea-shore— the worst plaoe he could have chosen, for it seemed to him that she stood there still, the lovely face so tender in the starlight. Could it be true that she cared for him ?—? — she, the proud, peerless, Lady Ethel, on whose smile princes waited — she, who might wed with the noblest in the land — she to oare for him 1 Was it true ? He lay down on the sand and thought over all the incidents of their friendship. Suddenly her annoyance that he could not understand her song, that he did not know the meaning of it, came before him — " Faint heart never won fair lady." She had thought him faint-hearted, then, because he had not dared to woo her. She had, in her graceful fashion, been willing to encourage him, and she must have thought him a laggard in love, indeed. Now he understood why she would not tell the earl, his father, how the song ended. " Perhaps the • faint heart ' rode away without telling his love." she bad said. He must have been more than blind, he must have been stupid, not to have understood it. That very word recalled the last 3cene on the Bhore most forcibly to him. " Men are so stupid," Lady Ethel had said. Well might she say so. Here was the loveliest, proudest girl in England trying to let him see that she liked him, and he had not understood. " She will hate me ; she will think me the greatest boor in existence. So I am. But, oh 1 Lady Ethel, what matters your love or your hate ? My peerless Queen, you are not for me. I have tied my own hands ; I cannot stretch them out for you." He pictured to himself what it would have beon had he not offered himself on this altar of honor. He would have gone after Lady Ethel, and he would not have left her until she promised to be his wife. What happiness 1 Ho dare not think of it. How proud he should have been to have shown suoh a wife to the world— to have taken her to his proud mother, and have said, •' See what a wife I bare won I—a1 — a daughter after your own heart I " How glad hia father would have been! He lifted up a etone and flung it into the depths of the sea. " What nonsense ?" he said. " Why should I waste my time in dreaming? I might as well try to find that stone again as try to see any ohanoe, any hope of escape from what I have done. I have riveted my own fetters, and if they are heavy, I have no one to blame but myself." He went back to lloseneath, and the first intelligence which greeted him was that marohing orders had arrived ; he had but ten days more in England, and then he was to go with his regiment to Gibraltar. " Tou will remain with ua to the last, Vivian?" said the oountess, who loved her son. " I shall not like losing you — you will remain with us ?" And then it occurred to him that before going to Gibraltar he must return to Rudeswell and make some arrangement with bis wife.