When he emerged, he looked like a ghost, and in feeble accents told me of why he had gone into solitude, which, as I see my partner seated like patience on a monument waiting for me, I shall leave him to be the hero of his own tale; and as I hear, fair Mlle., that you are going to desert Paris and turn your face south, I must needs say _bon voyage_, though my heart aches at our loss;" and lifting her hand to his lips, the gay Parisien left them to claim his partner.

"At last," said Everly, with fervor, and almost unconsciously his face full of an agitation he could not conceal.

Vaura's practised eye told her what was coming, and fain to escape it, said gayly:

"Yes, at last, Sir Tilton to relieve my curiosity by explaining M. de Vesey's words."

Here a lively air from a French clock attracted her attention.

"Listen, Sir Tilton, two o'clock."

"Yes, fair queen of the revels, 'tis time I told you another story, my heart is aching for your sympathy," he said brokenly.

"You have my sympathy, Sir Tilton; nay, we must not linger," she added, on his turning into the dreamy light of an ideal little flirting room.

"I pray you to do so, Miss Vernon. I have something I _must_ say to you," he said feverishly.

"Wait until time says _now_, Sir Tilton, for with the warning notes we have just heard in my ears, I should not be a good listener."

"You are tired of me, and want to give your sweetness to some other man," he said despairingly, yet fiercely.

"_Carita! Carita!_ Sir Tilton," and pitying him she said, knowing just how he was feeling; "see there is one couple you have made happy to-night," as the little prospective bride of Lord Lisleville with her lover pa.s.sed, with smiles to Sir Tilton.

"Fools' paradise, she belongs to Lord Lisleville; that wouldn't satisfy me."

"You are a spoiled boy, you want too much."

"I want you, my enchantress."

"But you can't have me, Sir Tilton, I belong to the heir of the house for the last dance," she said, wilfully misconstruing his meaning, so gaining time, lost to him.

"You are cruel, you gave up my dance for Trevalyon; you won't give up De Hauteville's for me."

"Eau Clair made me promise faithfully," and with pretty persuasiveness had her way to the ball-room. "Drop all sentiment, Sir Tilton, I like you best, your own gay care for naught self; see," she added, kindly as they neared the music and revellers, "see the gay b.u.t.terflies are as _chic_ (even if their wings have lost some of their bloom); the scent of the rose as sweet as at the first dance; be your own gay rollicking self once more."

"I cannot! for my star of the night I love you; don't start, it is no new story to you that a man's heart lies crushed at your feet. Since it was my fate to meet you, your face is ever before me. I followed you here, running away from Haughton Hall. I have dreaded Trevalyon as a rival, as well as others, but he in especial. Oh! my heart's light, say you are not going to give your loveliness up to a man they say has a hid--well, well, no more of him, only don't shrink from me, I shan't name him; but my heart only beats for you, heaven." And Vaura feels his whole frame tremble as he says feverishly: "pity me, and make her love me; and now what have you to say to me, you can make my life what you will; for heaven's sake give me hope."

"Poor fellow, your words grieve me more than I can say; I had no idea of anything of the sort; you have my warmest friendship.

"Don't; don't speak of friendship!" he said excitedly, when it is you, you with your warm heart-beats, your love I want; great heavens, why did you ever cross my path?"

"I shall regret the doing so, if it has caused you pain, Sir Tilton, but in time you will forget me."

"You are cruel; and speak as a surgeon to a physically sick man."

"My words are meant kindly, Sir Tilton, though they seem as the lance to the sick man."

"Men say women are cruel, so they are; do you know, for your beauty I have played the traitor to another; but heaven help me," and poor little Sir Tilton groaned; "I could not marry her while I was free to ask you to be my wife, and now I am just good for nothing, and never shall be; G.o.d help me!"

Vaura's heart was full of pity for this gay boyish little Sir Tilton, and looking into his face pityingly, said:

"Poor fellow, go back to your bethrothed and be happy in time with her; she, nor none other shall know you ever had a roving fancy for me, and this is a b.u.t.terfly age and our wings were given us to fly; so _n'importe_, you need only send your bride to me if she ever scolds, and I shall tell her she has the gayest, kindest little baronet in all Britain."

And so Vaura chatted to give the poor little man time to catch up to his heart-beats.

Here Lionel pa.s.sed them on his return from the boudoir of Madame, where he had been since Vaura was taken from him, and Del Castello had left him; he heard part of Vaura's remark, and seeing Sir Tilton's downcast att.i.tude, took in the situation at a glance; and as he pa.s.sed with a grave smile to Vaura and a pressure of his hand on the crushed rose and violets at his breast, he mentally observed:--

"Another life given her to do as she wills with, another heart crushed as she has crushed the life from this rose; ah, well, the saints hath it that they are the weaker vessel, but they are stronger than we after all. Look at me, year after year I have boasted of my strength, and now I am as wax in her hands; I, who thought to bask in her loveliness for an idle hour, only as I might bask in the loveliness on canvas, the creation of some heaven born painter; I, who thought to coolly criticise her acquaintance with this actor who has tried to win her beauty and talents to the stage, ere I asked her to be my wife-- ere I put away the prejudices of a lifetime against wedded life.

Prejudices! that were the outcome of my mother's sin, my father's blighted life; I know I always loved her as a girl-woman, for she was always womanly. Now I adore her with the love of a life; with a love that has never been frittered away, for I have never loved the soulless creatures whom I have amused myself with." And hastening his steps he was soon by Lady Esmondet's side.

"What a wanderer you have been," said his friend, welcoming her favourite and pleased to see (as she surmised) some of Vaura's violets in his coat.

"Where is Vaura? truant that she is, you were the one to take her away, and I hoped you would bring her back."

She noticed he wore the exhausted look of a man having gone through some very powerful emotional feeling, whether of joy or sorrow she could not tell. His eyes turned ever wistfully towards the grand entrance to the ball-room, and he wore her flowers, so she could only hope there had been no trouble between them. She felt half in love with him herself, as most women did who came under the influence of his rare fascination of manner "his eyes possess some mesmeric power,"

they said, "to draw their hearts at will." Have we not all felt the wonderful power of such eyes, at least, once in our lives, eyes that once having felt as it were, we always feel; eyes that charm us and bid us look and not forget.

"He is learning to love her," thought Lady Esmondet, as she saw that his eyes turned ever towards the door; "and it will be the happiest day of my life (none too happy)," she thought with a sigh, "if I see these two lives blend in one; Vaura is _difficile_, so is he, but she cannot resist him, and their lives would be full of completeness. They would be the happiest couple in London; why did he start as through fear, when Everly mentioned Delrose as a visitor at the Hall; I know there was a scandal some twelve years ago, when they were both mixed up with f.a.n.n.y Clarmont. I do hope there is nothing in it to cause him real uneasiness. Vaura will make a great sensation this coming season; she has made some conquests to-night, that cream-white satin with her diamonds and these old fashioned gold bands, suit her to perfection.

She enjoys wielding the sceptre and she does it with such seeming unconsciousness, and absence of vanity that is very charming, never boasting of her conquests even to me." But where can she be all this time, I wonder, and with whom? so breaking in upon Lionel's reverie, she repeated her question of, "Where and with whom is Vaura? she has missed two or three dances."

"Everly was the happy man not two minutes ago," he said.

"That bird of pa.s.sage; 'tis a wonder she wastes her sweetness upon him."

"Poor Everly! I am very much inclined to think his heart will be heavy after to-night," said Lionel, thinking of his downcast look as he pa.s.sed.

"'Tis his own fault; little men are so aspiring,--always on tip-toe,"

answered Lady Esmondet.

"Yes, I suppose he has himself to blame, the bat cannot gaze at the sun, unless to his own detriment."

"One thinks of an angel and lo! she appears," exclaimed Eau Clair, coming up, "and there's no doubt as to whose colours Everly wears, but by the lilies of France had he detained La Belle Vernon from her rightful sovereignty of the ball-room five minutes longer, I should have hunted the Everlie-in-wait-robber, and have taken from him our belle. But see how _enerve_, embarra.s.sed, the robber looks, the enchantress has been exercising her fatal spells."

Here Vaura with Sir Tilton, looking pale and haggard, approached all three, guessed his whispered question to Vaura, of "Can you give me no hope?" and saw Vaura shake her head as her lips framed the word "no."

Then there was one long pressure of the hand, a look from Everly, as of one looking on the face of the dead, and he was gone. Alone, or to wed without love, and for gold! Ah, me! this life of ours teems with bitterness, but on to the merry-makers we do not care to follow Everly. We grow cynical perhaps as to the good there is in life, but we get used to it in time; to this something we have lost as we get used in time, to the unloved partner by our side. Such is life.

Vaura was looking very sweet and lovely, as with a tender pity she took leave of her conquest, Sir Tilton; her face had a soft paleness, and her lips looked a deeper red than usual from the contrast; there was a languor in her movements, and she felt she would like to rest in the easy chair, beside Lady Esmondet, with Lionel near; and dream waking dreams after all the excitement of the night. But there were the conventionalities, her dance with Eau Clair, and then, home, so she said:

"Well, dear G.o.d-mother, here at last; are you dying of _ennui_? I feel very wicked, and it has been selfish of me to remain so long, but this is the last, I shall soon be with you."

And taking Eau Clair's arm she was again moving to the enchanting music of the waltz, which tends more to bewitch the souls of men than the music of any other dance, its gentle swaying motion, its soft bewilderingly seductive strains of music, are something to have felt the pleasurable sensation of. As they were moving the length of the room, Vaura noticed Lady Esmondet leave it, as also that her footsteps' were slow and languid as though she was weary; so saying:

"I really must tear myself away, Monsieur Eau Clair, Lady Esmondet has left the room, and I am sure she is fatigued. You will laugh at me for suddenly remembering my dear chaperon at such an opportune moment when our dance is a thing of the past. There seems to be a general exodus, so," she added gaily, "if we follow them, even two such important personages as we are will not be noticed in our absence."

"We shall go with the stream and all will be well."

"But whither do they lead? What is on the _tapis_?"

"They go to take part in an old family custom that tonight must be done."