"Miss Atheling?"

"Yes."

Then Annabel considered her rival's approach. Her eyes fell first on the Squire, whose splendid physique arrested every one's attention. He wore a coat of dark-blue broadcloth, trimmed with gold b.u.t.tons, a long, white satin vest, and exquisitely fine linen, rather ostentatiously ruffled. On his arm Kate's hand just rested. Her gown of rich white silk was soft as lawn, and resplendent as moonbeams; and around her throat lay one string of Oriental pearls. Her bright, brown hair was dressed high, without any ornament; but there were silver buckles, set with pearls, on the front of her white satin sandals. A pause, a murmur of admiration was perceptible; for conversation ceased a moment as a creature so fresh, so pure, so exquisite, and so suitably protected, moved among them. Lord Exham, forgetting all ceremonies, went eagerly forward to meet these favoured guests; and the d.u.c.h.ess also had a momentary pleasure in Kate's well-gowned loveliness. She was very friendly to the Squire; and she took his daughter under her own protection.

After dinner--which was specially early for that night--the majority of the gentlemen went to the House. The Reform Bill, about which all England was in agonising suspense, was to be read for the first time.

Never, within the memory of Englishmen, had there been so great a crowd eager to get into the House. Every inch of s.p.a.ce on the floor was filled; and troops of eager politicians, from all parts of the country, were waiting at the doors of the various galleries. When they were opened, the clamour, the struggle, and the confusion was so indescribable that the Speaker threatened to have all the galleries cleared. Even among the members, there was great confusion and complaining; for their seats, though marked with their cards, had in many instances been taken by others.

Outside, the streets were packed with men wrought up to feverish excitement and anxiety; and in all the great centres of society, and in every club in London, there were restless crowds waiting for news from Westminster. The d.u.c.h.ess of Richmoor's parlours were the central point of Tory interest. Not one of the company there present but believed with Sir Robert Inglis--an orator of their party--that "Reform would sweep the House of Lords clear in ten years." This night was, to them, their salvation or their ruin. Below their jewelled bodices, their hearts trembled with anxious terror. After the departure of the members for the House, they gathered in little knots, wondering, and fearing, and listening to the noises in the crowded streets, with an agitation not quite devoid of pleasurable stimulation. For they were not without comforters and encouragers. The Duke of Wellington went from group to group, a.s.suring them that Lord Grey's Ministry must go down, and that no Reform Bill which could injure the n.o.bility would be permitted to pa.s.s the House of Lords.

Annabel was almost glad to see every one so unhappy. She had a perverse desire to say contradictious things. Her heart was heavy with fear, and it was burning with envy and jealousy. Kate's beauty, and Lord Exham's undisguised admiration, made her realise all the bitterness of failure.

She wandered about making evil prophecies, or saying irritating truths, and watching Kate the while, till she was ready to cry out with mental pain and mortification. For the great Duke--never insensible to female loveliness--had given Kate his arm, and was walking about the parlours with her. Why had such honour not fallen to her lot? Never had she been so desirous to lead, to be admired, to enforce her eminent fitness to wear the Richmoor coronet. Never had she so signally failed. Even her wit had deserted her; she said _malapropos_ clever things, and got snubbed for them. In her anger, and fear, and disappointment, she wished Reform _might_ make a clean sweep of such a selfish crowd of so-called n.o.bility. She had arrived at that point when her misery demanded company.

About ten o'clock, the Duke and Lord Exham returned. The large lofty rooms, with their moving throngs of splendidly attired men and women, were yet crowded; but their atmosphere was charged with an electric tension, generated by the unusual pitch to which every one's thoughts, and feelings, and words were set. Many were almost hysterical; some had subsided into mere waiting, conscious of requiring all their strength for simple endurance of the suspense; others, more hopeful, were restless and watching,--but all alike became instantly and breathlessly silent as the two men appeared. For a moment no one spoke; then the Duke of Wellington asked, with an a.s.sumption of cheerfulness, "What news? Has the Bill been read?"

"It has been read," answered Richmoor. "Lord John Russell introduced it in a speech lasting more than two hours."

"And pray what are its provisions."

"This infamous Bill proposes that every borough of less than two thousand inhabitants shall lose the right to send a member to Parliament."

"What a scandalous robbery of our privileges!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed some one of the listeners.

"It is nothing else!" answered the Duke. "It robs me of the gift of seven boroughs."

"What excuse did he make for such an act?"

"He supposed the case of a stranger, coming to England to investigate our method of representation, being taken to a green mound, and told that green mound sent two members to Parliament; or to a stone wall with three niches in it, and told that those three niches sent two members to Parliament; or to a green park with no signs of human habitation, and told that green park sent two members to Parliament; and then pictured the amazement of the stranger at this condition of things. 'But,' he cried, 'how much greater would be his amazement if he were then taken to large and populous cities, full of industry, enterprise, and intelligence, and containing vast magazines of every kind of manufactures, and was then told that these cities did not send a single man to represent their rights and their necessities in the great national council.' It was really a very effective pa.s.sage."

"We have heard that argument before; it is stale and unprofitable,"

said the d.u.c.h.ess.

"Listen! This Bill proposes to give every man paying taxes for houses of the yearly value of ten pounds and upward--_a vote_."

"What an absurdity!"

"It proposes to give Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds, Sheffield, and three other large towns, each two members, and London eight additional members."

"Infamous! It will give us a mob government."

"This so-called Reform Bill gives the franchise to one hundred and ten thousand people in the counties of England who never had it before; in the provincial towns, it gives it to fifty thousand; in London, it gives it to ninety-five thousand; in Scotland, to fifty thousand; and in Ireland, to forty thousand: in all, half a million of persons are to be added to the const.i.tuency of the House of Commons."

At this information the tendency of the whole company was to laughter.

Indeed the Duke's face, and voice, and manner was that of a man telling an utterly absurd story. Such sweeping alterations were not conceivable; their very excess doomed them to ridicule and failure, in the opinion of the privileged cla.s.s; but the Duke of Wellington's face expressed an anxiety not consonant with this feeling; and he asked gloomily:

"Did Lord John Russell _dare_ to read the names of the boroughs he intends to disfranchise, with their members present?"

"He read them with the greatest emphasis and deliberation."

"And the result? What was the result? How did they take being robbed of their seats in this summary way?"

"The excitement in the House was incredible. He was derisively interrupted by shouts of laughter, and by cries of 'Hear! Hear!' and by constant questions across the table from the members of those boroughs. The wisest statesmen in the House were aghast at proposals so sweeping and so revolutionary."

"What did Peel say?"

"Nothing. He sat rigid as a statue, his face working with emotion, his brow wrinkled and sombre. His supporters, who were gathered round him, burst again and again into uncontrollable laughter. Peel tried to make them behave like gentlemen, and could not. Every one is sure such a measure predicts a speedy downfall of Grey's Ministry."

"Of course it does," said the d.u.c.h.ess, with a contemptuous laugh.

The laugh was contagious, and the majority of the company burst into merriment and ridicule.

"It is really a good joke," said an aged Marquis who had the idea that England was the birthright of her n.o.bles.

"A good joke!" answered the Duke of Wellington, sternly. "I can tell you it is no joke. You will find it no laughing matter."

"I am weary of it all," whispered Annabel to Kate; "let us go into the conservatory." Kate was willing also, and as they entered the sweet, green place, with its tender lights and restful peace, she sighed with pleasure and said, "I wonder, Annabel, if the roses and camellias think themselves better than the violets and daisies."

"I dare say they do. Let us sit down here. I have had such a wretched day, and I am worn out;" and for a moment, as she looked in Kate's gentle face, she had a mind to tell her the whole truth about the unfortunate ring. But while she hesitated, there was a footstep; and in a moment, Piers pushed aside the fronds of the gigantic ferns and joined them.

"It is allowable," said Annabel, "provided you do do not mention Reform."

"There is no necessity here," he answered gallantly. "How could perfection be reformed?" Gradually the conversation fell into a more serious mood, and they began to speak of Yorkshire, and to long after its breezy wolds and lovely dales; and Annabel listened and said, "She would be delighted when they went down there." Kate also acknowledged that she was impatient to return to Atheling; and Piers watched her every movement,--the smile parting her lips, the light coming and going on her cheeks from dropped or lifted eyes, the graceful movements of her hands, the n.o.ble poise of her head,--all these things were fresh enchantments to him. What was the noisy, dusty Senate chamber to this green spot filled with the charming presence of the woman he adored?

Very quickly Annabel perceived that she was the one person _not_ necessary; and she was too depressed to resent this position. With a whisper to Kate, she went away, promising to return in ten minutes.

She did not return; but in half an hour--which had seemed as five minutes--the d.u.c.h.ess came in her stead, and said blandly, "Annabel has a headache, and has gone to sleep it away. I have sent the Squire home, Miss Atheling; I told him I should keep you here to-night.

Indeed he was glad for you to remain; the streets are not in a very pleasant condition. London has lost its senses. It has gone mad; in the morning it may be saner."

So the sweet interval was over; but one secret glance between the lovers showed how delicious it had been. Kate went away with the d.u.c.h.ess; and waiting women led her to a splendid sleeping apartment. There, all night long, she kept the sense of Piers holding her hand in his; and, faintly smiling with this interior bliss, she dreamed away the hours until late in the morning.

Her first thought on awakening was, "What shall I wear? I cannot go to breakfast in a white silk gown." Then, as she rose, she saw a street costume laid ready for her use. "Mrs. Atheling sent it very early this morning," said the maid; and Kate thought with a blessing of the good mother who never forgot her smallest necessities. At breakfast, the d.u.c.h.ess was particularly gracious to her; she affected an entire oblivion of Piers's evident devotion, and talked incessantly of the stupidity of the Grey Ministry; but as she rose from the table, she said,--

"My dear Miss Atheling, will you do me the favour to come to my private parlour before you leave?"

Kate stood up, curtsied slightly, and made the required promise. But she did not at once attend the d.u.c.h.ess, as that lady certainly expected.

She had promised Piers to walk with him in the conservatory, and finish their interrupted conversation of the previous night; and a gentle pressure of her hand reminded her of this previous engagement. So it was near the noon hour when she went to the room which the d.u.c.h.ess had selected for their interview.

She entered it without a suspicion of the sorrow waiting there for her, though the first glance at the cold, haughty face that greeted her made her a little indignant. "I expected you an hour ago, Miss Atheling,"

said the d.u.c.h.ess.

"I am sorry if I have detained you, d.u.c.h.ess. I did not think my interview with you could be of much importance."

"Perhaps not as important to you as the interview you put before it--and yet, perhaps, far more so. For I must tell you that such entirely personal companionship with Lord Exham, must cease from this very hour."

Kate had taken the seat the d.u.c.h.ess indicated on her entering the room; she now rose to her feet, and answered, "If so, d.u.c.h.ess, it is proper for me to leave your home at once. My mother is waiting to see me. She will tell me what it is right for me to do."

"In this case, I am a better adviser than your mother. I believe you to be a girl of n.o.ble principles, so I tell you frankly that Lord Exham is bound, by every honourable tie, to marry Miss Vyner. When you are not present, he is quite happy in her society; when you are present, you seem to exert some unaccountable influence over him. Miss Vyner has often complained of this. I thought it was simple jealousy on her part, until I observed you with Lord Exham last night. I am now compelled, by my duty to my son and his affianced wife, to tell you how impossible a marriage between you and Lord Exham is and must be. I believe this information to be all that is necessary to a girl of your birth and breeding."

"What information, d.u.c.h.ess?" She asked the question with a dignity that irritated a woman who thought her word, without her reasons, was quite sufficient.

"If you persist in having the truth, I must give it to you. Remember, I would gladly have spared you and myself this humiliation. Know, then, that many years ago the late General Vyner rendered the Duke a great service. When Annabel was born, the Duke offered himself as her G.o.dfather and guardian, and his son as her husband. It is not necessary to go into details; the facts ought to be sufficient for you.