"Estelle--Estelle!" thought I. "How many temptations in mighty4 London, and in the country, too--in Brighton, that other London by the sea, and wherever she may go--will beset5 one so noble and so beautiful--allurements that may teach her to forget and banish6 from her memory the poor Fusileer subaltern, to whom she seems as the centre of the universe!"
The evening was a lovely one, and the scenery was beautiful. Chestnuts7 and oaks were, at every turn of the way we rode, forming natural arches and avenues, beyond which were pleasant glimpses of quaint8 cottages, whose walls and roofs were nearly hidden by masses of roses and honeysuckle; short square village spires9 and ivy-covered parsonages; widespreading pastures, where the sleepy cattle browsed10 amid purple clover and golden cowslips, with the glory of the ruddy sunset falling aslant11 upon them, while the ambient air was full of earthy and leafy fragrance12; for many fallen leaves, the earliest spoil of autumn, lay with bursting cones13 in cool and sunless dells, or by the wayside, where the fern and foxglove mingled14 under the old thick hedgerows. And so I was looking, as I have said, on all this peaceful scene, perhaps for the last time; yet there was no sadness in my heart, for the revulsion or change of feeling, from the gloom and tumultuous anxiety of many, many days past, and even of that morning, was great indeed to me, especially when we cantered through the handsome iron gates of Walcot Park, the once suspicious keeper of which gave me an unmistakable glance of recognition. I felt like one in a dream as I threw my reins15 to a servant, and was led upstairs by Sir Madoc.
"Where is Lady Estelle?" he asked of another valet, to whom I gave my sword in the hall.
"In the front drawing-room."
"Alone?"
"I think so, sir."
"All right, Harry16!"
But he suddenly affected17 to remember that he had something to say to his own groom18, and as he turned back, I was ushered19 into the long and stately apartment. I had a dreamy sense of being amid many buhl tables and glass shades, much drapery, and several mirrors that reproduced everything, amid which I saw Estelle advancing cordially to meet me. She had a bright smile in her face, and held out both her hands; but I could scarcely speak.
"Estelle," I whispered, "joy--joy! It is indeed joy, to see you once again!"
"Then you quite forgive me, dearest Harry?"
"Forgive you? O Estelle!" I exclaimed, in a low and passionate20 voice, as she turned up her adorable face to meet mine half-way.
I knew from past experience that caresses21 from her meant much more than they did from most women; for Estelle, though proud and reticent22, and apparently23 cold and calm, was reluctant to give and to accept them; so now I felt all the truth and sincerity24 of this reunion. "A lovers' quarrel is but love renewed;" we, however, had not quarrelled, but been cruelly wrenched25 asunder26 by the art and cunning of another.
"Are you on duty, Mr. Hardinge?" said a voice; and from a window where she had been sitting, quite unseen and unnoticed by me, Winny Lloyd came forth27, looking, as I thought, a little paler and sadder than when I had seen her last at Craigaderyn Court.
"What makes you think I am on duty, dear Miss Lloyd?--or rather let me say, my dear, dear good friend and guardian28 angel Winifred, to whose intercession I owe all the happiness of a time like this," said I, pressing her hand caressingly29 between both of mine.
"Because you are in undress uniform, of course," said she, almost petulantly30.
"I can wear no other costume now; we bid good-bye to mufti, the sable31 livery of civilisation32, to-morrow."
"How?"
"We march at daybreak."
"For the East?"
"Yes; for the East, at last."
"So soon?" exclaimed both girls at once.
"The order came within an hour or little more, when Sir Madoc was with me."
The eyes of the girls were full of sudden tears, and they gazed on me with an honest emotion of tenderness and real interest, that, considering the rare beauty and high position of both, were alike flattering and bewildering; and I felt that this was one of those moments when, to be a soldier or a sailor on the eve of departure to the seat of war, was indeed worth something.
And Winifred, the impulsive33 Welsh fairy, so fresh-hearted, so simple in her motives34, and sweet in her disposition35, uttered something very like a little sob36 in her slender white throat, adding apologetically to Estelle, "We have been such old friends, Harry Hardinge and I."
"You never wrote to me, Estelle," said I, softly, yet reproachfully.
"I dared not; you remember our arrangement," she replied, with hesitation37.
"Nor was I invited here, like Mostyn, Clavell, and others; thus I had no opportunity of--"
"I had no control, darling Harry, over mamma's dinner-list: I could but suggest to mamma; and then there was that terrible story. But here comes mamma!"
And turning, I found myself face to face with the tall, handsome, and stately Countess of Naseby, whom--nathless her chilling manner and lofty presence--I hoped yet to hail as a very creditable mother-in-law.
I was on the eve of departure, to go where glory waited me. I might cross her exclusive path no more; so my Lady Naseby seemed quite disposed to bury the hatchet38, and received me with that which was--for her--unusual kindness, and an enmpressement which made the eyes of her daughter to sparkle with pleasure. A late dinner made a sad hole in the time I had hoped to spend with Estelle; yet I had the pleasure of sitting beside her--a pleasure that was clouded by the conviction that my presence would soon be imperatively39 requisite40 at the barracks, where so much was to be done ere morning, and that I should be compelled to abridge41 even this, my farewell visit, to pleasant Walcot Park, and all who were there. Fortunately, Lady Naseby went quietly to sleep in her boudoir after dinner, with Tiny on her lap; Sir Madoc obligingly went into the library to write; and Winifred suggested a turn in the conservatory42, where for a little time she adroitly43 left Estelle and me together.
There is no utility in dwelling44 on how we sealed our reconciliation45 and renewed our troth, when once more I placed my ring upon her finger; or in rehearsing the soft and tender words--perhaps (O heaven!) the "twaddle"--we spoke46 for an indescribable few minutes, and how each said to the other that our apparent separation had been as a living death. But now all that misery47 was over; we loved each other more than ever, and the grave alone could part us finally; words, the prompting of the heart, came readily, till our emotions became too deep, and she agreed that I should write to her boldly, "as ere long mamma, through good Sir Madoc, must know all." And so we leaned against a great flower-stand, almost hidden by gorgeous azaleas, our hands tightly clasped in each other, eyes looking fondly into eyes, and feeling that the depth of our tenderness formed for us one of those few-and-far-between portions of existence when time seems to stand still, when silence is made eloquent48 by the beatings of the heart, when we almost forget we are mortal, and feel as if earth had become heaven. From this species of happy trance we were roughly roused by the crash of a great majolica vase containing a giant cactus49, and a voice exclaiming querulously,
"God bless my soul!--Pardon me; I did not know any one was here."
"The devil you didn't!" was my blunt rejoinder.
And there, with gold glasses on his long aristocratic nose, and in his richly-tasselled robe de chamber50 and embroidered51 slippers52, stood my Lord Pottersleigh, whom I knew not to be at Walcot Park, as he had been nursing his gout upstairs; and now I wished his lordship in a hotter climate than the quarters of the 2nd West India for his unwelcome interruption. Of what he had seen or what he thought I cared not a rush, so far as he was concerned; and a few minutes later saw me, after a hurried farewell to all, with the pleasure of remembered kisses on my lips, and my heart full of mingled joy and sadness, triumph and prayerful hope for the perilous53 future, flying at full gallop54 back to Winchester.
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1
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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10
browsed
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| v.吃草( browse的过去式和过去分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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aslant
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| adv.倾斜地；adj.斜的 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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cones
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| n.（人眼）圆锥细胞；圆锥体( cone的名词复数 )；球果；圆锥形东西；（盛冰淇淋的）锥形蛋卷筒 | |
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14
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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petulantly
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sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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32
civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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34
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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35
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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38
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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imperatively
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| adv.命令式地 | |
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40
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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41
abridge
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| v.删减，删节，节略，缩短 | |
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42
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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43
adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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44
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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45
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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46
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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47
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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48
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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49
cactus
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| n.仙人掌 | |
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50
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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51
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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52
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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53
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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54
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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