Amid the commonplaces I was venturing to utter to this proud, cold, and decidedly unpleasant old dame15, whose goodwill16 and favour I was sedulously17 anxious to gain, it was impossible for me to avoid hearing some remarks that Sir Madoc made concerning me, and to her daughter.
"I am so glad you like my young friend, Lady Estelle," said the bluff18 baronet, leaning over her chair, his rubicund19 face beaming with smiles and happiness; for he was in best of moods after a pleasant dinner, with agreeable society and plenty of good wine.
"Who told you that I did so?" asked she, looking up with fresh annoyance20, yet not unmixed with drollery21, in her beautiful face.
"Dora and Winny too; and I am so pleased, for he is an especial friend of ours. I love the lad for his dead mother's sake--she was an old flame of mine in my more romantic days--and doesn't he deserve it? What do you think the colonel of his old corps22 says of him?"
"Really, Sir Madoc, I know not--that he is quite a ladykiller, perhaps; to be such is the ambition of most young subalterns."
"Better than that. He wrote me, that young Hardinge is all that a British officer ought to be; that he has a constitution of iron--could sleep out in all weathers, in a hammock or under a tree--till the fever attacked him at least. If provisions were scanty23, he'd share his last biscuit with a comrade; on the longest and hottest march he never fell out or became knocked up; and more than once he has been seen carrying a couple of muskets24, the arms of those whose strength had failed them. 'I envy the Royal Welsh their acquisition, and regret that we have lost him'--these were the colonel's very words."
Had I fee'd or begged him to plead my cause, he could not have been more earnest or emphatic25.
"For heaven's sake, Sir Madoc, do stop this overpowering eulogium," said I; "it is impossible for one not to overhear, when one's own name is mentioned. But did the colonel really say all this of me?"
"All, and more, Harry26."
"It should win him a diploma of knight-bachelor," said Lady Estelle, laughing, "a C.B., perhaps a baronetcy."
"Nay27," said Sir Madoc; "such rewards are reserved now for toad-eaters, opulent traders, tuft-hunters, and ministerial tools; the days when true merit was rewarded are gone, my dear Lady Estelle."
The duet over, Phil Caradoc drew near me, for evidently he was not making much progress with Miss Lloyd.
"Well, Phil," said I, in a low voice, "among those present have you seen your ideal of woman?"
"Can't say," said he, rather curtly28; "but you have, at all events, old fellow, and I think Sir Madoc has done a good stroke of business for you by his quotation29 of the colonel's letter. I heard him all through our singing--the old gentleman has no idea of a sotto voce, and talks always as if he were in the hunting-field. By Jove, Harry, you grow quite pink!" he continued, laughing. "I see how the land lies with you; but as for 'la mère Cressingham,' she is an exclusive of the first water, a match-maker by reputation; and I fear you have not the ghost of a chance with her."
"Hush30, Caradoc," said I, glancing nervously31 about me "remember that we are not at Winchester, or inside the main-guard, just now. But see, Lady Estelle and that fellow Guilfoyle are about to favour us," I added, as the pale beauty spread her ample skirts over the piano-stool, with an air that, though all unstudied, seemed quite imperial, and ran her slender fingers rapidly over the white keys, preluding an air; while Guilfoyle, who had a tolerable voice and an intolerable amount of assurance, prepared to sing by fussily32 placing on the piano a piece of music, on the corner of which was written in a large and bold hand, evidently his own--"To Mr. H. Guilfoyle, from H.S.H. the Princess of Catzenelnbogen."
"You must have been a special favourite with this lady," said Estelle, "as most of your German music is inscribed33 thus."
"Yes, we were always exchanging our pieces and songs," said he, languidly and in a low voice close to her ear, yet not so low as to be unheard by me. "I was somewhat of a favourite with her, certainly; but then the Princess was quite a privileged person."
"In what respect?"
"She could flirt34 farther than any one, and yet never compromise herself. However, when she bestowed35 this ring upon me, on the day when I saved her life, by arresting her runaway36 horse on the very brink37 of the Rhine, I must own that his Highness the Prince was the reverse of pleased, and viewed me with coldness ever after; so that ultimately I resigned my office of attaché, just about the time I had the pleasure--may I call it the joy?--of meeting you."
"O fie, Mr. Guilfoyle! were you actually flirting38 with her?"
"Nay, pardon me; I never flirt."
"You were in love then?"
"I was never in love till--"
A crash of notes as she resumed the air interrupted whatever he was about to say; but his eye told more than his bold tongue would perhaps have dared to utter in such a time or place; and, aware that they had met on the Continent, and had been for some time together in the seclusion39 of Craigaderyn, I began to fear that he must have far surpassed me in the chances of interest with her.. Moreover, Dora's foolish remark might reasonably lead her to suppose that I was already involved with Winifred; and now, with a somewhat cloudy expression in my face (as a mirror close by informed me), and a keen sense of pique40 in my heart, I listened while she played the accompaniment to his pretty long German song, the burden of which seemed to be ever and always--
"Ach nein! ach nein! ich darf es nich.
Leb wohl! Leb' wohl! Leb' wohl!"
Sir Madoc, who had listened with some secret impatience41 to this most protracted42 German ditty, now begged his fair guest to favour him with something Welsh; but as she knew no airs pertaining43 to the locality, she resigned her place to Winifred, whom I led across the room, and by whose side I remained. After the showy performances of Lady Estelle, she was somewhat reluctant to begin: all the more so, perhaps, that her friend--with rather questionable44 taste, certainly--was wont45, in a spirit of mischief or raillery--but one pardons so much in lovely woman, especially one of rank--to quiz Wales, its music and provincialism; just as, when in the Highlands, she had laughed at the natives, and voted "their sham46 chiefs and gatherings47 as delightfully48 absurd." Finding that his daughter lingered ere she began, and half suspecting the cause, Sir Madoc threatened to send for Owen Gwyllim, the butler, with his harp50. Owen had frequently accompanied her with his instrument; but though that passed well enough occasionally among homely51 Welsh folks, it would never do when Lady Naseby and certain others were present.
"It is useless for an English girl to sing in a foreign language, or attempt to rival paid professional artists, by mourning like Mario from the turret52, or bawling53 like Edgardo in the burying-ground, or to give us 'Stride la vampa' in a fashion that would terrify Alboni," said Sir Madoc, "or indeed to attempt any of those operatic effusions with which every hand organ has made us familiar. So come, Winny, a Welsh air, or I shall ring for Owen."
This rather blundering speech caused Lady Estelle to smile, and Guilfoyle, whose "Leb' wohl" had been something of the style objected to, coloured very perceptibly. Thus urged, Winifred played and sang with great spirit "The March of the Men of Harlech;" doubtless as much to compliment Caradoc and me as to please her father; for it was then our regimental march; and, apart from its old Welsh associations, it is one of the finest effusions of our old harpers. Sir Madoc beat time, while his eyes lit up with enthusiasm, and he patted his daughter's plump white shoulders kindly54 with his weather-brown but handsome hands; for the old gentleman rather despised gloves, indoors especially, as effeminate.
Winifred had striven to please rather than to excel; and though tremulous at times, her voice was most attractive.
"Thank you," said I, in a low and earnest tone; "your execution is just of that peculiar55 kind which leaves nothing more to be wished for, and while it lasts, Winny, inspires a sense of joy in one's heart."
"You flatter me much--far too much," replied Miss Lloyd, in a lower and still more tremulous tone, as she grew very pale; for some girls will do so, when others would flush with emotion, and it was evident that my praise gave her pleasure; she attached more to my words than they meant.
An undefinable feeling of pique now possessed56 me--a sensation of disappointment most difficult to describe; but it arose from a sense of doubt as to how I really stood in the estimation of the fair Estelle. Taking an opportunity, while Sir Madoc was emphatically discussing the points and pedigrees of certain horses and harriers with Guilfoyle and other male friends, while the Countess and other ladies were clustered about Winifred at the piano, and Dora and Caradoc were deep in some affair of their own, I leaned over her chair, and referring--I forget now in what terms--to the last time we met, or rather parted, I strove to effect that most difficult of all moves in the game of love--to lead back the emotions, or the past train of thought, to where they had been dropped, or snapped by mischance, to the time when I had bid her lingeringly adieu, after duly shawling and handing her to the carriage, at the close of a late rout57 in Park-lane, when the birds of an early June morning were twittering in the trees of Hyde Park, when the purple shadows were lying deep about the Serpentine58, when the Ring-road was a solitude59, the distant Row a desert, and the yawning footmen in plush and powder, and the usually rubicund coachmen, looking weary, pale, and impatient, and when the time and place were suited neither for delay nor dalliance. Yet, as I have elsewhere said, an avowal60 of all she had inspired within me was trembling on my lips as I led her through the marble vestibule and down the steps, pressing her hand and arm the while against my side; but her mother's voice from the depths of the carriage (into which old Lord Pottersleigh had just handed her) arrested a speech to which she might only have responded by silence, then at least; and I had driven, via Piccadilly, to the Junior U.S., when Westminster clock was paling out like a harvest moon beyond the Green Park, cursing my diffidence, that delayed all I had to say till the carriage was announced, thereby61 missing the chance that never might come again. And then I had but the memory of a lovely face, framed by a carriage window, regarding me with a bright yet wistful smile, and of a soft thrilling pressure returned by an ungloved hand, that was waved to me from the same carriage as it rolled away westward62. The night had fled, and there remained of it only the memory of this, and of those glances so full of tenderness, and those soft attentions or half endearments63 which are so charming, and so implicitly64 understood, as almost to render language, perhaps, un necessary.
"You remember the night we last met, and parted, in London?" I whispered.
"Morning, rather, I think it wash" said she, fanning herself; "but night or morning, it was a most delightful49 ball. I had not enjoyed myself anywhere so much that season, and it was a gay one."
"Ah, you have not forgotten it, then," said I, encouraged.
"No; it stands out in my memory as one night among many happy ones. Day was almost breaking when you led me to the carriage, I remember."
"Can you remember nothing more?' I asked, earnestly.
"You shawled me most attentively--"
"And I was whispering--"
"Something foolish, no doubt; men are apt to do so at such times," she replied, while her white eyelids66 quivered and she looked up at me with her calm, bright smile.
"Something foolish!" thought I, reproachfully; "and then, as now, my soul seemed on my lips."
"Do you admire Mr. Guilfoyle's singing?" she asked, after a little pause, to change the subject probably.
"His voice is unquestionably good and highly cultured," said I, praising him truthfully enough to conceal67 the intense annoyance her unexpected question gave me; "but, by the way, Lady Estelle, how does it come to pass that he has the honour of knowing you--to be here, too?"
"How--why--what do, you mean, Mr. Hardinge?" she asked, and I could perceive that after colouring slightly she grew a trifle paler than before. "He is a visitor here, like you or myself. We met him abroad first; he was most kind to us when mamma lost all her passports at the Berlin Eisenbahnhof, and he accompanied us to the Alte Leipziger Strasse for others, and saw us safely to our carriage. Then, by the most singular chances, we met him again at the new Kursaal of Ems, at Gerolstein, when we were beginning the tour of the Eifel, and at Baden-Baden. Lastly, we met him at Llandudno, on the beach, quite casually68, when driving with Sir Madoc, to whom he said that he knew you--that you were quite old friends, in fact."
"Knew me, by Jove! that is rather odd. I only lost some money to him; enough to make me wary69 for the future."
"Wary?" she asked, with dilated70 eyes.
"Yes."
"An unpleasant expression, surely. Sir Madoc, who is so hospitable71, asked him here to see the lions of Craigaderyn, and has put a gun at his disposal for the twelfth."
"How kind of unthinking Sir Madoc! A most satisfactory explanation," said I, cloudily, while gnawing72 my moustache. Guilfoyle had too evidently followed them.
"If any explanation were necessary," was the somewhat haughty response, as the mother-of-pearl fan went faster than ever, and she looked me full in the face with her clear, dark, and penetrating73 eyes, to the sparkle of which the form of their lids, and their thick fringe of black lash74, served to impart a softness that was indeed required. "Do you know anything of him?" she added.
"No; that is--"
"Anything against him?"
"No, Lady Estelle."
"What then?" she asked, a little petulantly75.
"Simply that I, pardon me, think a good deal."
"More than you would say?"
"Perhaps."
"This is not just. Mamma is somewhat particular, as you know; and our family solicitor76, Mr. Sharpus, who is his legal friend also, speaks most warmly of him. We met him in the best society--abroad, of course; but, Mr. Hardinge, your words, your manner, more than all, your tone, imply what I fear Mr. Guilfoyle would strongly resent. But please go and be attentive65 to mamma--you have scarcely been near her to-night," she added quickly, as a flush of anger crossed my face, and she perceived it. I bowed and obeyed, with a smile on my lips and intense annoyance in my heart. I knew that the soft eyes of Winifred Lloyd had been on us from time to time; but my little flirtation77 with her was a thing of the past now, and I was reckless of its memory. Was she so? Time will prove. I felt jealousy78 of Guilfoyle, pique at Lady Estelle, and rage at my own mismanagement. I had sought to resume the tenor79 of our thoughts and conversation on the occasion of our parting after that joyous80 and brilliant night in Park-lane, when my name on her engagement card had appeared thrice for that of any one else; but if I had touched her heart, even in the slightest degree, would she have become, as it seemed, almost warm in defence of this man, a waif picked up on the Continent? Yet, had she any deeper interest in him than mere81 acquaintanceship warranted, would she have spoken of him so openly, and so candidly82, to me?
Heavens! we had actually been covertly83 fencing, and nearly quarrelling! Yet, if so, why should she be anxious for me to win the estimation of "mamma"? Lady Naseby had been beautiful in her time, and the utter vacuity84 and calm of her mind had enabled her to retain much of that beauty unimpaired; and I thought that her daughter, though with more sparkle and brilliance85, would be sure to resemble her very much at the same years. She was not displeased86 to meet with attention, but was shrewd enough to see, and disdainful enough to resent, its being bestowed, as she suspected it was in my instance, on account of her daughter; thus I never had much success; for on the night of that very rout in London my attentions in that quarter, and their apparent good fortune, had excited her parental87 indignation and aristocratic prejudices against me.
After all the visitors had withdrawn88 (as horses or carriages were announced in succession), save one or two fox-hunters whom Guilfoyle had lured89 into the billiard-room for purposes of his own, when the ladies left us at night Lady Estelle did not give me her hand. She passed me with a bow and smile only, and as she swept through the gilded90 folding doors of the outer drawing-room, with an arm round Dora's waist, her backward glances fell on all--but me. Why was this? Was this coldness of manner the result of Guilfoyle's influence, fear of her mamma, her alleged91 engagement with old Lord Pottersleigh, pique at myself caused by Dora's folly92, or what? It was the old story of "trifles light as air." I felt wrathful and heavy at heart, and repented93 bitterly the invitation I had accepted, and the leave I had asked; for Lady Estelle seemed so totally unconcerned and indifferent to me now, considering the empressement with which we had parted in London.
The "family solicitor," too! He had been introduced as a mutual94 friend in the course of affairs--in the course of a friendship that had ripened95 most wonderfully. Was this Hawkesby Guilfoyle a fool, or a charlatan96, or both? His various versions of the diamond ring would seem to show that he was the former. What fancy had the Countess for him, and why was he tolerated by Sir Madoc? Familiar though I was with my old friend, I felt that I could not, without a violation97 of good taste, ask a question about a guest, especially one introduced by the Cressinghams. His voice was soft in tone; his manner, when he chose, was suave98; his laugh at all times, even when he mocked and sneered99, which was not unfrequent, silvery and pleasing; yet he was evidently one who could "smile and smile and be"--I shall not exactly say what. While smoking a cigar, I pondered over these and other perplexing things in my room before retiring for the night, hearing ever and anon the click of the billiard-balls at the end of the corridor. Had I not the same chance and right of competition as this Guilfoyle, though unknown to the "family solicitor"? How far had he succeeded in supplanting100 me, and perhaps others? for that there were others I knew. How far had he gone in his suit--how prospered101? How was I to construe102 the glances I had seen exchanged, the half speech so bluntly made, and so adroitly103 drowned at the piano? Who was he? what was he? The attaché of the mock embassy at a petty German Court! Surely my position in society was as good, if not better defined than his; while youth, appearance, health, and strength gave me every advantage over an "old fogie" like Viscount Pottersleigh.
As if farther to inflame104 my pique, and confirm the chagrin105 and irritation106 that grew within me on reflection, Phil Caradoc, smoothing his moustache, came into my room, which adjoined his, to have, as he said, "a quiet weed before turning in." He looked ruffled107; for he had lost money at billiards108--that was evident--and to the object of my jealousy, too.
"That fellow Guilfoyle is a thorough Bohemian if ever there was one!" said he, as he viciously bit off the end of his cigar prior to lighting109 it, "with his inimitable tact110, his steady stroke at billiards, his scientific whist, his coolness and perfect breeding: yet he is, I am certain, unless greatly mistaken, a regular free-lance, without the bravery or brilliance that appertained to the name of old--a lawless ritter of the gaming-table, and one that can't even act his part well or consistently in being so. He has been spinning another story about that ring, with which I suppose, like Claude Melnotte's, we shall hear in time his grandfather, the Doge of Venice, married the Adriatic I am certain," continued Caradoc, who was unusually ruffled, "that though a vainglorious111 and boasting fellow, he is half knave112, half fool, and wholly adventurer!"
"This is strong language, Phil. Good heavens! do you really think so?" I asked, astonished to find him so boldly putting my own thoughts into words.
"I am all but convinced of it," said he, emphatically. "But how in such society?"
"Ah, that is the rub, and the affair of Sir Madoc, and of Lady Naseby, and of Lady Estelle, too, for she seems to take rather more than an interest in him--they have some secret understanding. . By Jove! I can't make it out at all."
Caradoc's strong convictions and unusual bluntness added fuel to my pique and chagrin, and I resolved that, come what might, I would end the matter ere long; and I thought the while of the song of Montrose--
"He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch,
To gain or lose it all!"
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1
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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hoydenish
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| adj.顽皮的，爱嬉闹的，男孩子气的 | |
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mischief
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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eligible
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docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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dame
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goodwill
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sedulously
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bluff
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rubicund
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annoyance
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drollery
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corps
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scanty
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muskets
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emphatic
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harry
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nay
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curtly
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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hush
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nervously
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fussily
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| adv.无事空扰地，大惊小怪地，小题大做地 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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flirt
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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runaway
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brink
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flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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seclusion
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pique
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| v.伤害…的自尊心，使生气 n.不满，生气 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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pertaining
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| 与…有关系的，附属…的，为…固有的(to) | |
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questionable
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| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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50
harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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51
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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turret
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| n.塔楼，角塔 | |
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bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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serpentine
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| adj.蜿蜒的，弯曲的 | |
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59
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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avowal
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| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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endearments
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| n.表示爱慕的话语，亲热的表示( endearment的名词复数 ) | |
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implicitly
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| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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petulantly
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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83
covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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84
vacuity
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| n.(想象力等)贫乏，无聊，空白 | |
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85
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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87
parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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88
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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89
lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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92
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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93
repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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95
ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
charlatan
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| n.骗子；江湖医生；假内行 | |
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97
violation
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| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
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98
suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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99
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
supplanting
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| 把…排挤掉，取代( supplant的现在分词 ) | |
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101
prospered
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
construe
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| v.翻译，解释 | |
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103
adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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104
inflame
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| v.使燃烧；使极度激动；使发炎 | |
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105
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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106
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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107
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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108
billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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109
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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110
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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111
vainglorious
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| adj.自负的；夸大的 | |
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112
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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