III.
He despatched the letter, and half-an-hour afterwards felt sure that itwould mortally offend her. But he had now reached a state of temporaryindifference, and could contemplate the loss of such a tantalizingproperty with reasonable calm.
In the interim of waiting for a reply he was one day walking to Markton,when, passing Myrtle Villa, he saw Sir William De Stancy ambling abouthis garden-path and examining the crocuses that palisaded its edge. SirWilliam saw him and asked him to come in. Somerset was in the mood forany diversion from his own affairs, and they seated themselves by thedrawing-room fire.
'I am much alone now,' said Sir William, 'and if the weather were notvery mild, so that I can get out into the garden every day, I shouldfeel it a great deal.'
'You allude to your daughter's absence?'
'And my son's. Strange to say, I do not miss her so much as I miss him.She offers to return at any moment; but I do not wish to deprive her ofthe advantages of a little foreign travel with her friend. Always, Mr.Somerset, give your spare time to foreign countries, especially thosewhich contrast with your own in topography, language, and art. That'smy advice to all young people of your age. Don't waste your money onexpensive amusements at home. Practise the strictest economy at home, tohave a margin for going abroad.'
Economy, which Sir William had never practised, but to which, afterexhausting all other practices, he now raised an altar, as the Atheniansdid to the unknown God, was a topic likely to prolong itself on thebaronet's lips, and Somerset contrived to interrupt him by asking--
'Captain De Stancy, too, has gone? Has the artillery, then, left thebarracks?'
'No,' said Sir William. 'But my son has made use of his leave in runningover to see his sister at Nice.'
The current of quiet meditation in Somerset changed to a busy whirl atthis reply. That Paula should become indifferent to his existence from asense of superiority, physical, spiritual, or social, was a sufficientlyironical thing; but that she should have relinquished him because of thepresence of a rival lent commonplace dreariness to her cruelty.
Sir William, noting nothing, continued in the tone of cleverchildishness which characterized him: 'It is very singular how thepresent situation has been led up to by me. Policy, and policy alone,has been the rule of my conduct for many years past; and when I say thatI have saved my family by it, I believe time will show that I am withinthe truth. I hope you don't let your passions outrun your policy, as somany young men are apt to do. Better be poor and politic, than rich andheadstrong: that's the opinion of an old man. However, I was goingto say that it was purely from policy that I allowed a friendship todevelop between my daughter and Miss Power, and now events are provingthe wisdom of my course. Straws show how the wind blows, and there arelittle signs that my son Captain De Stancy will return to Stancy Castleby the fortunate step of marrying its owner. I say nothing to either ofthem, and they say nothing to me; but my wisdom lies in doing nothing tohinder such a consummation, despite inherited prejudices.'
Somerset had quite time enough to rein himself in during the oldgentleman's locution, and the voice in which he answered was so cold andreckless that it did not seem his own: 'But how will they live happilytogether when she is a Dissenter, and a Radical, and a New-light, anda Neo-Greek, and a person of red blood; while Captain De Stancy is thereverse of them all!'
'I anticipate no difficulty on that score,' said the baronet. 'My son'sstar lies in that direction, and, like the Magi, he is following itwithout trifling with his opportunity. You have skill in architecture,therefore you follow it. My son has skill in gallantry, and now he isabout to exercise it profitably.'
'May nobody wish him more harm in that exercise than I do!' saidSomerset fervently.
A stagnant moodiness of several hours which followed his visit to MyrtleVilla resulted in a resolve to journey over to Paula the very next day.He now felt perfectly convinced that the inviting of Captain De Stancyto visit them at Nice was a second stage in the scheme of Paula's uncle,the premature announcement of her marriage having been the first. Theroundness and neatness of the whole plan could not fail to recommendit to the mind which delighted in putting involved things straight,and such a mind Abner Power's seemed to be. In fact, the felicity, ina politic sense, of pairing the captain with the heiress furnishedno little excuse for manoeuvring to bring it about, so long as thatmanoeuvring fell short of unfairness, which Mr. Power's could scarcelybe said to do.
The next day was spent in furnishing the builders with such instructionsas they might require for a coming week or ten days, and in dropping ashort note to Paula; ending as follows:--
'I am coming to see you. Possibly you will refuse me an interview. Nevermind, I am coming--Yours, G. SOMERSET.'
The morning after that he was up and away. Between him and Paulastretched nine hundred miles by the line of journey that he found itnecessary to adopt, namely, the way of London, in order to inform hisfather of his movements and to make one or two business calls. Theafternoon was passed in attending to these matters, the night inspeeding onward, and by the time that nine o'clock sounded next morningthrough the sunless and leaden air of the English Channel coasts, he hadreduced the number of miles on his list by two hundred, and cut off thesea from the impediments between him and Paula.
On awakening from a fitful sleep in the grey dawn of the morningfollowing he looked out upon Lyons, quiet enough now, the citizensunaroused to the daily round of bread-winning, and enveloped in a hazeof fog.
Six hundred and fifty miles of his journey had been got over; therestill intervened two hundred and fifty between him and the end ofsuspense. When he thought of that he was disinclined to pause; andpressed on by the same train, which set him down at Marseilles atmid-day.
Here he considered. By going on to Nice that afternoon he wouldarrive at too late an hour to call upon her the same evening: it wouldtherefore be advisable to sleep in Marseilles and proceed the nextmorning to his journey's end, so as to meet her in a brighter conditionthan he could boast of to-day. This he accordingly did, and leavingMarseilles the next morning about eight, found himself at Nice early inthe afternoon.
Now that he was actually at the centre of his gravitation he seemed evenfurther away from a feasible meeting with her than in England. Whileafar off, his presence at Nice had appeared to be the one thing needfulfor the solution of his trouble, but the very house fronts seemed now toask him what right he had there. Unluckily, in writing from England, hehad not allowed her time to reply before his departure, so that hedid not know what difficulties might lie in the way of her seeing himprivately. Before deciding what to do, he walked down the Avenue de laGare to the promenade between the shore and the Jardin Public, and satdown to think.
The hotel which she had given him as her address looked right out uponhim and the sea beyond, and he rested there with the pleasing hope thather eyes might glance from a window and discover his form. Everythingin the scene was sunny and gay. Behind him in the gardens a band wasplaying; before him was the sea, the Great sea, the historical andoriginal Mediterranean; the sea of innumerable characters in history andlegend that arranged themselves before him in a long frieze of memoriesso diverse as to include both AEneas and St. Paul.
Northern eyes are not prepared on a sudden for the impact of such imagesof warmth and colour as meet them southward, or for the vigorouslight that falls from the sky of this favoured shore. In any othercircumstances the transparency and serenity of the air, the perfume ofthe sea, the radiant houses, the palms and flowers, would have actedupon Somerset as an enchantment, and wrapped him in a reverie; but atpresent he only saw and felt these things as through a thick glass whichkept out half their atmosphere.
At last he made up his mind. He would take up his quarters at herhotel, and catch echoes of her and her people, to learn somehow if theirattitude towards him as a lover were actually hostile, before formallyencountering them. Under this crystalline light, full of gaieties,sentiment, languor, seductiveness, and ready-made rom
ance, the memory ofa solitary unimportant man in the lugubrious North might have faded fromher mind. He was only her hired designer. He was an artist; but he hadbeen engaged by her, and was not a volunteer; and she did not as yetknow that he meant to accept no return for his labours but the pleasureof presenting them to her as a love-offering.
So off he went at once towards the imposing building whither his lettershad preceded him. Owing to a press of visitors there was a moment'sdelay before he could be attended to at the bureau, and he turned to thelarge staircase that confronted him, momentarily hoping that her figuremight descend. Her skirts must indeed have brushed the carpeting ofthose steps scores of times. He engaged his room, ordered his luggage tobe sent for, and finally inquired for the party he sought.
'They left Nice yesterday, monsieur,' replied madame.
Was she quite sure, Somerset asked her?
Yes, she was quite sure. Two of the hotel carriages had driven them tothe station.
Did she know where they had gone to?
This and other inquiries resulted in the information that they hadgone to the hotel at Monte Carlo; that how long they were going to staythere, and whether they were coming back again, was not known. His finalquestion whether Miss Power had received a letter from England whichmust have arrived the day previous was answered in the affirmative.
Somerset's first and sudden resolve was to follow on after them to thehotel named; but he finally decided to make his immediate visit to MonteCarlo only a cautious reconnoitre, returning to Nice to sleep.
Accordingly, after an early dinner, he again set forth through the broadAvenue de la Gare, and an hour on the coast railway brought him to thebeautiful and sinister little spot to which the Power and De Stancyparty had strayed in common with the rest of the frivolous throng.
He assumed that their visit thither would be chiefly one of curiosity,and therefore not prolonged. This proved to be the case in even greatermeasure than he had anticipated. On inquiry at the hotel he learnt thatthey had stayed only one night, leaving a short time before his arrival,though it was believed that some of the party were still in the town.
In a state of indecision Somerset strolled into the gardens of theCasino, and looked out upon the sea. There it still lay, calm yetlively; of an unmixed blue, yet variegated; hushed, but articulate evento melodiousness. Everything about and around this coast appeared indeedjaunty, tuneful, and at ease, reciprocating with heartiness the rays ofthe splendid sun; everything, except himself. The palms and flowers onthe terraces before him were undisturbed by a single cold breath. Themarble work of parapets and steps was unsplintered by frosts. The wholewas like a conservatory with the sky for its dome.
For want of other occupation he went round towards the public entranceto the Casino, and ascended the great staircase into the pillared hall.It was possible, after all, that upon leaving the hotel and sending ontheir luggage they had taken another turn through the rooms, tofollow by a later train. With more than curiosity he scanned first thereading-rooms, only however to see not a face that he knew. He thencrossed the vestibule to the gaming-tables.