CHAPTER XLVII
Arthur emerged from his hiding-place, horror-struck at hearing whatwas being said about him, and wondering, so far as he was at themoment capable of accurate thought, how long this report had beengoing about, and whether by any chance it had reached the ears of theBellamys. If it had, the mischief might be very serious. In theconfusion of his mind, only two things were clear to him--one was,that both for Mildred's and his own sake, he must leave Madeira atonce; and, secondly, that he would dance no more with her that night.
Meanwhile the ball was drawing to a close, and presently he heard thestrains of the last galop strike up. After the band had been playingfor a minute or two, a natural curiosity drew him to the door of theball-room, to see if Mildred was dancing with anybody else. Here hefound Lady Florence, looking rather disconsolate.
"How is it that you are not dancing?" she asked.
He murmured something inaudible about "partner."
"Well, we are in the same box. What do you think? I promised thisgalop to Captain Clemence, and now there he is, vainly trying topersuade Mrs. Carr, who won't look at him, and appears to be waitingfor somebody else--you, I should think--to give him the dance. I willbe even with him, though."
Just then the music reached a peculiarly seductive passage.
"Oh, come along!" said Lady Florence, quite regardless of theproprieties; and, before Arthur well knew where he was, he waswhirling round the room.
Mrs. Carr was standing at the top corner, where the crush obliged himto slacken his pace, and, as he did so, he caught her eye. She wastalking to Lady Florence's faithless partner, with a smile upon herlips; but one glance at her face sufficed to tell him that she was ina royal rage, and, what was more, with himself. His partner noticedit, too, and was amused.
"Unless I am mistaken, Mr. Heigham, you have come into trouble. Lookat Mrs. Carr." And she laughed.
But that was not all. Either from sheer mischief, or from curiosity tosee what would happen, she insisted upon stopping, as the dance drewto a close, by Mildred's corner. That lady, however, proved herselfequal to the occasion.
"Mr. Heigham," she said sweetly, "do you know that that was ourdance?"
"Oh, was it?" he replied, feeling very much a fool.
"Yes, certainly it was; but with such a temptation to error"--and shesmiled towards Lady Florence--"it is not wonderful that you made amistake, and, as you look so contrite, you shall be forgiven. Agatha,there's a dear, just ask that man to go up to the band, and tell themto play another waltz, 'La Berceuse,' before 'God save the Queen.'"
Arthur felt all the while, though she was talking so suavely, that shewas in a state of suppressed rage; once he glanced at her, and sawthat her eyes seemed to flash. But her anger only made her look morelovely, supplying as it did an added dignity and charm to her sweetfeatures. Nor did she allow it to have full play.
Mildred felt that the crisis in her fortunes was far too serious toadmit of being trifled with. She knew how unlikely it was that shewould ever have a better chance with Arthur than she had now, for themirrors told her that she was looking her loveliest, which was verylovely indeed. In addition, she was surrounded by every seductivecircumstance that could assist to compel a young man, however muchengaged, to commit himself by some act or words of folly. The soundand sights of beauty, the rich odour of flowers, the music'svoluptuous swell, and last, but not least, the pressure of hergracious form and the glances from her eyes, which alone were enoughto make fools of ninety-nine out of every hundred young men in Europe--all these things combined to help her. And to them must be added herdetermination, that concentrated strength of will employed to a singleend, which, if there be any truth in the theories of the action ofmind on mind, cannot fail to influence the individual on whom it isdirected.
"Now, Arthur."
The room was very nearly clear, for it was drawing towards daylightwhen they floated away together. Oh! what a waltz that was! Theincarnate spirit of the dance took possession of them. She waltzeddivinely, and there was scarcely anything to check their progress. On,on they sped with flying feet as the music rose and fell above them.And soon things began to change for Arthur. All sense of embarrassmentand regret vanished from his mind, which now appeared to be capable ofholding but one idea of the simplest and yet the most soaring nature.He thought that he was in heaven with Mildred Carr. On, still on; nowhe saw nothing but her shell-like face and the large flash of thecircling diamonds, felt nothing but the pressure of her form and herodorous breath upon his cheek, heard nothing but the soft sound of herbreathing. Closer he clasped her; there was no sense of weariness inhis feet or oppression in his lungs; he could have danced for ever.But all too soon the music ceased with a crash, and they were standingwith quick breath and sparkling eyes by the spot that they had startedfrom. Close by Miss Terry was sitting yawning.
"Agatha, say good-bye to those people for me. I must get a breath offresh air. Give me a glass of water, please, Arthur."
He did so, and, by way of composing his own nerves, took a tumbler ofchampagne. He had no longer any thought of anxiety or danger, and he,too, longed for air. They passed out into the garden, and, by a commonconsent, made their way to the museum verandah, which was, as itproved, quite deserted.
The night, which was drawing to its close, was perfect. Far over thewest the setting moon was sinking into the silver ocean, whilst thefirst primrose hue of dawn was creeping up the eastern sky. It wasessentially a dangerous night, especially after dancing and champagne--a night to make people do and say regrettable things; for, as one ofthe poets--is it not Byron?--has profoundly remarked, there is thevery devil in the moon at times.
They stood and gazed awhile at the softness of its setting splendours,and listened to the sounds of the last departing guests fading intosilence, and to the murmurs of the quiet sea. At last she spoke, verylow and musically.
"I was angry with you. I brought you here to scold you; but on such anight I cannot find the heart."
"What did you want to scold me about?"
"Never mind; it is all forgotten. Look at that setting moon and thesilver clouds above her," and she dropped her hand, from which she hadslipped the glove, upon his own.
"And now look at me and tell me how I look, and how you liked theball. I gave it to please you."
"You look very lovely, dangerously lovely, and the ball was splendid.Let us go."
"Do you think me lovely, Arthur?"
"Yes; who could help it? But let us go in."
"Stay awhile, Arthur; do not leave me yet. Tell me, is not thisnecklace undone? Fasten it for me, Arthur."
He turned to obey, but his hand shook too much to allow him to do so.Her eyes shone into his own, her fragrant breath played upon his brow,and her bosom heaved beneath his shaking hand. She too was moved;light tremors ran along her limbs, the colour came and went upon herneck and brow, and a dreamy look had gathered in her tender eyes.Beneath them the sea made its gentle music, and above the wind waswhispering to the trees. Presently his hand dropped, and he stoodfascinated.
"I cannot. What makes you look like that? You are bewitching me."
Next moment he heard a sigh, the next Mildred's sweet lips were uponhis own, and she was in his arms. She lay there still, quite still,but even as she lay there rose, as it were, in the midst of theglamour and confusion of his mind, that made him see all thingsdistraught, and seemed to blot out every principle of right andhonour, another and far different scene. For, as in a vision, he saw adim English landscape and a grey ruin, and himself within its shadowswith a nobler woman in his arms, "Dethrone me," said a rememberedvoice, "desert me, and I will still thank you for this hour ofimperial happiness." The glamour was gone, the confusion madestraight, and clear above him shone the light of duty.
"Mildred, dear Mildred, this cannot be. Sit down. I want to speak toyou."
She turned quite white, and sank from his arms without a word.
"Mildred, you know that I am engaged."
/>
The lips moved, but no sound issued from them. Again she tried.
"I know."
"Then why do you tempt me? I am only a man, and weak as water in yourpresence. Do not make me dishonourable to myself and her."
"I love you as well as she. There--take the shameful truth."
"Yes, but--forgive me if I pain you, for I must, I must. I love_her_."
The beautiful face hid itself in the ungloved hands. No answer came,only the great diamond sparkled and blazed in the soft light like ahard and cruel eye.
"Do not, Mildred, for pity's sake, involve us all in shame and ruin,but let us part now. If I could have foreseen how this would end! ButI have been a blind and selfish fool. I have been to blame."
She was quite calm now, and spoke in her usual singularly clear voice.
"Arthur dear, I do not blame you. Loving _her_, how was it likely thatyou should think of love from _me_? I only blame myself. I have lovedyou, God help me, ever since we met--loved you with a despairing,desperate love such as I hope that you may never know. Was I to allowyour phantom Angela to snatch the cup from my lips without a struggle,the only happy cup I ever knew? For, Arthur, at the best of times, Ihave not been a happy woman; I have always wanted love, and it has notcome to me. Perhaps I should be, but I am not--a high ideal being. Iam as Nature made me, Arthur, a poor creature, unable to stand aloneagainst such a current as has lately swept me with it. But you arequite right, you must leave me, we _must_ separate, you _must_ go; butoh God! when I think of the future, the hard, loveless future----"
She paused awhile, and then went on--
"I did not think to harm you or involve you in trouble, though I hopedto win some small portion of your love, and I had something to giveyou in exchange, if beauty and great wealth are really worth anything.But you must go, dear, now, whilst I am brave. I hope that you will behappy with your Angela. When I see your marriage in the paper, I shallsend her this tiara as a wedding present. I shall never wear it again.Go, dear; go quick."
He turned to leave, not trusting himself to speak, for the big tearsstood in his eyes, and his throat was choked. When he had reached thesteps, she called him back.
"Kiss me once before you go, and I see your dear face no more. I usedto be a proud woman, and to think that I can stoop to rob a kiss fromAngela. Thank you; you are very kind. And now one word; you know awoman always loves a last word. Sometimes it happens that we put upidols, and a stronger hand than ours shatters them to dust before oureyes. I trust this may not be your lot. I love you so well that I cansay that honestly; but, Arthur, if it should be, remember that in allthe changes of this cold world there is one heart which will neverforget you, and never set up a rival to your memory, one place whereyou will always find a home. If anything should ever happen to breakyour life, come back to me for comfort, Arthur. I can talk no more; Ihave played for high stakes--and lost. Good-bye."
He went without a word.