Only a Girl's Love by Charles Garvice (the rosie project TXT) 📕

you? and who asked you, Mr. Jackanapes?"

"Why, you wouldn't refuse shelter to your niece's husband?" retorts Leycester, laughing.

"Oh, that's it!" says the old man. "Allow me to wish you good-night. I'll leave you to your Midsummer madness—no, to your Autumn wisdom, for, upon my word, it's the most sensible word I've heard you utter for months past!"

And he goes; but before he goes he lays his hand upon the sleek head and whispers:

"That's a good girl! Now be happy."

They were married in Paris, very quietly, very happily. Lord Charles came over from Scotland, leaving the grouse and the salmon, to act as best man, and it was an open question which of the two men looked happiest—he or the bridegroom. Lord Charles had never heard of that forged note and his inadvertent share in the plot that had worked so much harm, and he never would hear of it; and furthermore he never quite understood how it was that Stella Etheridge and not Lady Lenore became[287] Leycester's wife; but he was quite satisfied and quite assured that it was the best of all possible arrangements.

"Leycester's the happiest man in the world, and he used to be the most wretched, and so there's an end of it," he declared, whenever he spoke of the match. "And," he would add, "the man who could have the moral cheek to be anything but absurdly happy with such an angel as Lady Stella wouldn't be fit to be anywhere out of a lunatic asylum."

They were married, and Charlie went back to the grouse, and the painter went back to the cottage and Mrs. Penfold, leaving the young couple to have their gay time of it in the gayest city of the world. It was not particularly gay after all, but it was ecstatically joyous. They went to the theaters and concerts and enjoyed themselves like boy and girl, and Leycester found himself continually amazed at the youthfulness which remained in him.

"I have begun to live for the first time," he declared one day. "I only existed before."

As for Stella, the days went by in a sort of ecstatic dream, and only a little cloud lined the golden sky—the earl and countess still hardened their hearts.

Though not a week passed without bringing a letter full of love and longing from Lilian, the old people made no sign. In the proud countess' eyes her son's wife was still Stella Etheridge, the painter's niece, and she could not forgive her for—making Leycester happy. It would have made Stella miserable if anything could have done so, but Leycester's love and watchful care often kept the cloud back—for a time.

They stayed in Paris until a little bijou place in Park Lane was ready, then they went home and took quiet possession.

It was the most charming of little nests—Leycester had given Jackson and Graham carte blanche—and formed a fitting casket for the beautiful young viscountess.

"After all, Ley," she said, as she sat upon his knee on their first evening and looked round her exquisite room, "it is almost as good as the little laborer's cottage I used to picture for myself."

"Yes, it only needs that I should sit in my shirt sleeves and smoke a long pipe, doesn't it?" he said, laughing.

For some weeks they did almost lead an isolated life; they were always together, never tired or wearied of each other. Of Stella, with her exquisite variety, with her ever changing mirth and rare, delicate wit, it would certainly have been difficult for any man to tire, and what woman would have wearied of the devoted attention of such a man as Leycester! They lived quietly for a little time, but as the season commenced people got scent of them, and soon the world swooped down upon them.

Stella protested at first, but she was powerless to resist, and soon the names of Lord and Lady Trevor appeared in the fashionable lists. Then came a surprise. Like Lord Byron, she woke one morning to find herself famous; the world had pronounced her a beauty, and had elected her to one of its thrones. Men almost fought for the honor of inserting their names upon[288] her ball-cards; women copied her dress, and envied her; the photographers would have hung her portraits in their windows if she had not been too wary to have one taken. She had become a reigning queen. Leycester did not mind; he knew her too well to be afraid that it would spoil her, and it amused him to find that the world was rowing in the same boat with him—had gone mad over his little Stella.

Now it was a gay time, but still the countess made no sign. The Wyndwards were away on the continent in the winter, and in the spring they went down to the Hall. Letters came from Lilian regularly, and she grew more pathetic as time rolled on, she was pining for Leycester. Stella urged him to sink his pride and go down to the Hall, but he would not.

"Where I go I take my wife," he said, in his quiet way, and Stella knew that it was useless to urge him.

But one day when it chanced that Stella was at home resting after a grand ball at which she had reigned supreme, a brougham drove up to the door, and while she was just preparing to say "not at home," the servant opened the door of the boudoir, and there stood the tall, graceful, lady-like figure of Lilian.

Stella sprang forward and caught her in her arms, with a cry that brought Leycester bounding up-stairs.

The two girls clung to each other for at least five minutes, crying softly, and uttering little piteous monosyllables, after the manner of their kind; then Lilian turned to Leycester.

"Oh, Ley, don't be angry. I've come!" she cried.

"So I see, Lil," he said, kissing her. "And how glad we are I need not say."

"And she shall never go again, shall she?" exclaimed Stella, with her arm round the fragile form.

"Why, I don't mean to!" said Lilian, piteously. "You won't send me away, will you, Stella? I can't live without him, I can't indeed. You will let me stay, won't you? I shan't be in the way. I'll creep into a corner, and efface myself; and I shan't be very much trouble, because I am so much stronger now, and—oh, you will let me stay?"

There is no need to set down in hard, cold, black letters their answer.

"There is only one thing more I want to make my happiness complete," said Stella; and they knew that she meant the reconciliation of Leycester with the old people.

So Lilian stayed, and made an additional sunshine and joy in the little house; and it amused Leycester to see how soon she too fell at the feet of the new beauty and worshipped her.

"If any one could be too good for you, Ley," she said, "Stella would be that one."

Well, time passed; the season was at its height, and the countess came to town. The earl had been in his place in the Upper House from the beginning of the season, of course; but the countess had remained at the Hall nursing her disappointment. She came up in time for one of the State balls, at which her presence was indispensable. It was the great official ball of[289] the season, and crowded to excess. The countess arrived with the earl just before the small hours, and after the usual ceremonies and exchanges of salutations with the great world which she had left for so many months, she had time to look round the room. She did so with a little inward tremor, for she knew that Leycester and "his wife" were to be present. To her relief—and disappointment—they had not arrived. For all her pride and hauteur the mother's heart ached.

But if they were not there, their reputation had preceded them. She heard Stella's name every five minutes, heard the greatest in the land regretting her absence, and wondering what kept her away.

Presently, toward two o'clock, there was a perceptible stir in the magnificent salon, and the murmur went up:

"Lord and Lady Trevor!"

The countess turned pale for a moment, then looked toward the door and saw a beautiful woman—or a girl still—entering, leaning upon Leycester's arm. Society does for a man or woman what a lapidary does for a precious stone. It was precious when it first came into his hands, but when it leaves them it is polished! Stella had become, if the word is allowable when applied to her, the pink of refinement and delicacy, "polished." She had learnt, unconsciously, to wear diamonds, and that with princes. As she came in now, a crowd of "the best" people came round her and did homage, and the countess, looking on, saw with her own eyes, what she had heard rumored, that this daughter-in-law of hers, this penniless niece, had become a power in the land. It amazed her at first, but as she watched she lost her wonder. It was only natural and reasonable; there was no more beautiful or noble looking woman in the room.

The band began to play a waltz, the crowds began to move, dancing and promenading. The countess sat amongst the dowagers, pale and smiling, but with an aching heart. Where was Leycester? Presently four persons approached her. Charlie, with Stella on his arm, Leycester with another lady. Suddenly, not seeing her, Charlie stopped, and Stella turning, found herself face to face with the countess.

For a moment the proud woman melted, then she hardened her heart and turned her head aside.

Leycester, who been been watching, passed in front of her, and he put his hand out.

"Leycester!"

But he drew Stella's arm within his—she was white and trembling—and looking his mother in the face sternly, passed on with Stella.

"Take me home, Leycester," she moaned. "Oh, take me home! How can she be so cruel?"

But he would not.

"No," he said. "This is your place as much as hers. My poor mother, I pity her. Oh, pride, pride! You must stay."

Of course the incident had been noticed and remarked, and,[290] amongst the persons who had seen it was a prince of the blood.

This distinguished individual was not only a prince but a gentle-hearted man, and as princes can take things as they please, he disregarded the best name on his ball programme and walking straight up to Stella, begged with that grand humility which distinguishes him, for the honor of her hand.

Stella, pale and beautifully pathetic in her trouble, faltered an excuse, an excuse to a royal command.

But he would not take it.

"A few turns only, Lady Trevor, I implore. I will take care of her, Leycester," he added in a murmur, and he led Stella away.

They took a few turns, then he stopped.

"You are tired," he said: "will you let me take you into the cool?"

He drew her arm through his, but instead of "taking her into the cool," as he phrased it, in his genial way, he marched straight up to the countess.

"Lady Wyndward," he said; and his clear, musical voice was just audible to those around, "your daughter has been too gracious to her devoted adherents, and tired herself in the mazy dance. I resign her to your maternal care."

Stella would have shrunk back, but the countess, who knew what was due to royalty, rose and took the fair, round arm in her matronly one.

"Come," she said, "his royal highness is right—you must rest."

All in a dream, Stella allowed herself to be led into a shaded recess, all fresh with ferns and exotica. Then she woke, and murmuring—

"Thank you," was for flying; but the countess held out her arms suddenly, and for the first time—well, for many years—burst into tears, not noisy sobbing, but quiet, flooding tears.

"Oh, my dear!" she murmured, brokenly. "Forgive me! I am only a proud, wicked old woman!"

Stella was in her arms in an instant, and thus Leycester found them.

When old Lady Longford heard of this scene, she was immensely amused in her cynical way.

"It would have served you right my dear," she told the countess, "if she had turned round and said, 'Yes, you are a very wicked old woman,' and walked off."

So Stella's cup of happiness was full to the brim.

It is not empty yet, and will not be while Love stands with upraised hand to replenish it.

She is a girl still, even now that there is a young Leycester to run about the old man's studio and upset the pictures and add to the litter, and it is the old painter's oft expressed opinion that she will be a girl to the end of the chapter.

"Stella, you see," he is fond of remarking, whenever he hears her sweet voice carolling about the little cottage—and it is as often heard there as at the Hall—"Stella, you see, was born in