Vaura sat at a small table near the piano. Sir Dennis, with the sanguineness of his race, thought she was interested in his chit-chat and in a book of Italian views, but her thoughts were with Lionel, for she caught his eye, and "minds run in grooves," and he knew that she under stood, his silent farewell; she felt her heart ache, and would have risen and gone to him, but "men may suffer and women may weep,"

but the conventionalities must be attended to, or the mighty G.o.d, society, stares and frowns; and so Lionel sung parting words to the woman he loved, and to his friend; and surely Moore would have been moved to tears had he heard the depth of feeling thrown into his words. When he was singing, the silver chimes softly rang eleven o'clock, so knowing he had no time to lose, he quietly left the room.

Vaura's heart throbbed quickly for she thought, "he has gone."

But the Marchmonts, much to her relief and Lady Esmondet, saying they must "really tear themselves away," a rather prolonged leave-taking took place between Reverend Robert Douglas and Miss Marchmont, into which Mrs. Marchmont was drawn.

"Well, I don't know, Miranda sweet," she says, "that I can promise to take you to St. Augustine service tomorrow afternoon. I am going to high ma.s.s at St. Peter's, and shall be fatigued."

Vaura, who was standing near, listening to O'Gormon's adieux, and anxious to do anything to hasten their leave-taking, said quickly:

"I shall likely go, and shall call at your hotel for Miss Marchmont."

Miss Marchmont was gushing in her thanks.

"Oh! don't forget, Miss Vernon, I wouldn't miss hearing Mr. Douglas intone the service for worlds."

"The creature, not the creator," thought Vaura. But now at last the guests have departed and the friends are alone.

Lionel sees them go from the garden walk which he is pacing up and down, ready to go and waiting for the trap. He has gone out urged by conflicting emotions, head aching, and in the air hoping to gain calm.

It is now 11.15; fifteen minutes yet. "If I could only see her alone."

Fortune favours him, for Lady Esmondet having heard from Saunders (while Vaura is engaged with the Marchmonts) that Captain Trevalyon is about somewhere, as he does not go until eleven thirty, taking in the situation, tells Vaura to go to the _salons_ for a little while and she will join her after she gives some directions to her maid.

So Vaura returns and, wishing to be quite alone before Lady Esmondet joins her, steps into the conservatory, but there her sense of loneliness is so complete, that she returns to the _salon_ immediately adjoining, and drawing the heavy brocade curtains dividing it from the others, she feels that she can give herself up to thoughts of Lionel; she knows now that he is gone; she would give worlds to have him by her side; she throws herself onto a lounge with her great white arms in a favourite att.i.tude thrown above her head. But in the moment of her entrance into the conservatory, Lionel had seen her from the garden and came in noiselessly to make sure; she is alone, and he is now gazing at her through the gla.s.s door; her bosom heaves, her flower face is lovely in its transparent soft paleness, and her eyelids are wet with the tear-drops she will not let fall, her lips move and he opens the door on its noiseless hinges, she says softly:

"Oh, darling, why did you go?" and she throws herself on her side and buries her face in her arms. Now Lionel fearing to hear the wheels of the trap to take him away, makes a noise with the door as if he had only come, and so Vaura thinks as she starts to a sitting posture and her heart beats wildly as she says, putting both hands to her side, "Oh, you are not gone, I am so glad."

"But I am going, and in a few minutes, Vaura darling," and he seated himself beside her; "you must know I love you with the whole pent-up love of my life," and his arm was round her. "You know, darling, I told you of a difficulty and I did not mean to speak until it was removed, but my heart has ached and I am so unmanned I have not known sometimes what to do or how to bear up; I have been in torture, darling, lest other men should win your love. Oh! my love, my beautiful darling, say you will not give your heart to another, that you will wait until I can plead my cause."

"I shall wait, dear Lionel."

"G.o.d, is it so, darling, darling?" and the soft hand was pressed and the lovely head was drawn to his breast and the rose-mouth was kissed again and again.

"There, that will do, won't it, Lionel, for to-night; we have waited so long," and the large grey eyes with their warm love-light, looked into the tired blue of the eyes so near her own now with a great pa.s.sionate love looking from them.

"Darling love," and his cheek was on hers, "I feel so full of bliss and content, and my nerves all throbbing, I don't think I can ever let you go; oh, you don't know how I love you. I used to boast of my strength with women beauty; but with you in my arms, heaven, what bliss! Vaura, darling, I feel half delirious; and yet a full rich joy in living and loving could not turn a man's brain."

And now the hall bell is pulled furiously; Vaura starts up and to her feet.

"Put your soft arms around my neck, darling, and give me a good-bye kiss; it will be a talisman from evil and help me through my lonely travels."

And her arms are clasped tightly round his neck, and his head bends down to the sweet lips.

"Good-bye, dearest Lion," and the eyes rest on his and she whispers, "I am not sorry I came back alone to the _salons_."

"My love; how can I leave you."

"You must."

And Lady Esmondet calls and Lionel hurries to the ball, and with a tight hand-clasp with his friend and a whispered, "I shall and most conquer my enemies."

"You will, Lionel."

And Lady Esmondet knew by the light in his eyes that he had spoken and she was glad.

Having promised Vaura to join her she now turned her steps towards the _salons_, but thinking, "No, she will not want me to-night," retraced her steps to her own room; and while her maid disrobed her, the lonely woman thought: "What a perfect union theirs will be; both handsome, gifted, and with much gold, for I shall settle L3,000 per annum on Vaura. Sir Vincent will do something for dear Lionel. Ah, me; what I have missed in my wedded life, I who could have loved a husband of my own choice so fondly, so truly. Eric, Eric, you alone would have made me happy; but I am growing old, I am looking back; it is folly. Alice Esmondet, you must not give way to melancholy, life is sweet to you even if you are not a winner of all good in life's game--. Give me a few drops of red lavender, Somers; there, that will do; now leave me and go to rest."

Vaura's whole being was filled with such intense happiness as she sank into a corner of the sofa where Lionel had found her a short time before that she would not move and so perhaps break the spell.

Emotional natures will know how she felt; as one does on waking from a dream of the night, so rich, so full of sweetness, so full of delicious languor one does not move a muscle lest the sensation pa.s.s.

At last she moves with a great sigh. "My darling, mine," she thought, "and he loves me; come back to me, Lion," and the great fair arms were clasped at the back of her head, then thrown down to the knees, and the hands go together, while a smile, oh, how sweet and tender, comes to the mouth, and the eyes are wet with their warmth and feeling.

"I'm glad you spoke before the 'difficulty,' is overcome, for if you can never undo it you will know that I always loved you. Men who would have satisfied most women have wooed me in vain. And now could any one of them who have charged me with cruelty see me. Yes, dearest Lion, I am every inch a woman and am subdued at last, and longing, longing, dear heart, to feel your arms about me and see the light in your mesmeric eyes. I have been waiting for you so long, love; come back to me, for I cannot do without the sweet, grave smile, the look from the tired eyes. Do you know, darling, as you are whirling away to northern climes that I am dreaming the hours away thinking of you; it is one o'clock, love, good night."

And Vaura, in all her loveliness, and full of a dreamy languor, went to her chamber. Saunders heard the light step in the silent household and followed her mistress.

"You must be sleepy, Saunders; put away my robe, lace, and jewels, and go."

"I am not tired, Mademoiselle; I have just had a nap in the house- keeper's room; you'd best let me run the comb through your hair, Mademoiselle."

"Very well, Saunders, but be quick; I am tired."

"The household are sorry, Miss, that the Captain is away; we were proud to have such a handsome master, and so free-handed; but it wasn't for what the Captain gave; it was his own kind ways, and we'll be wishing his servant back too, Mademoiselle; he was so merry. But his master was so kind, Sims could but be happy."

"Even the hirelings love him," thought her mistress; aloud she says:

"I am quite sure Capt. Trevalyon was a kind master, Saunders, and Sims was a faithful servant, and looked the essence of good humour.

Good-night, you can go now,"

"Good-night, ma'am; what time shall I call you for your bath, ma'am?"

"At half-past nine."

"Yes, ma'am."

And the white _robe de nuit_ is on, and this sweet woman glances at the mirror, and smiles at the fair face with the bright brown curls on the brow, the throat as fair as the soft robe of muslin, all a mystery of embroidery and shapely clingingness.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

TREVALYON GONE, VAURA KILLS TIME.

Christmas Day, the birth-day of Christ, dawned fair, beautiful, and bright, and was ushered in by many a peal of sweet sounding bells.

The heavenly east was so gloriously bright as old Sol mounted upwards, as to cause many a devout Roman (as he wended his steps to worship the Creator, at the altar, in one or other temple whose doors stood wide open, admitting a gleam of sunlight onto the figure of the sleeping babe, and the adoring faces of the worshippers, to cause him) to imagine as he gazed upward, that the heavenly Host caused all this flood of light in the warm, glorious east, by their smiles of approval at man's attempt to adore.