The Old Countess; or, The Two Proposals Part 46

"And these are worth ten thousand pounds?" she said.

"Exactly."

"And left to me without reservation or condition, by my mother?"

"Exactly. 'My dear friend,' said she, 'you will find somewhere about three thousand pounds in the bank. That money I leave in your hands, for I have faith in you, Stacy. That money is sure to grow, and when my daughter, Clara, gets to be about eighteen or so, pay it and the increase over to her in my name; tell her to keep it for her own independent use; to say nothing to Lord Hope or his wife--I mean if he should marry again--but to use it just as she pleases, without regard to her grandmother or any one else.' These were the directions your mother left with the money, and I hope you will make sure to abide by them, my lady."

"I will remember every word you have said," answered Clara, whose face was beginning to brighten under a new idea, and the bonds were becoming very precious to her. "But is there nothing I can do in return for this kindness?"

"I expected this. That was just what she said, 'My friend,' says she, 'there will be no such thing as paying you in specie for the service you will do my child; but she will be a lady of rank, Mr. Stacy, and as such will know how to return your kindness, and entertain you with the best.

Though dukes and princes should be her guests, she will have pride and glory in introducing her mother's faithful friend to them all. Yes, him and that splendid woman, who is your wife, the friend of my bosom,' says she; 'and if you ever go to England, be sure to take your wife along, then you'll have a chance to learn what British hospitality is in the walls of Houghton Castle, my own birthplace.'"

"My mother has promised nothing in my power to perform which shall not be done," said Clara, a good deal puzzled by all that she heard, and quite at a loss to judge of the social status of her visitor. But the great fact remained--her mother had trusted him; he had brought her a large sum of money, which nothing but the most honorable integrity would have prevented him keeping for his own benefit. The man who could so faithfully render back an important trust, must be worthy even of her grandmother's hospitality.

The moment Mr. Stacy had bowed and stumbled himself from the room, Clara ran to Lady Ca.r.s.et, and obtained an invitation for M. Stacy, Esq., and lady, to the entertainment which was now close at hand. With that invitation, went a large package directed to Hepworth Closs, in which a letter was enclosed, requesting him to take such legal steps in her behalf as would secure the amount contained in the American bonds to Mr.

Brown, the father of her dear friend, Caroline. "I know that she would refuse the independence for herself and her father, if I were to press it upon her; indeed, she has already done so, when I only hinted at the matter; but when it is secured irrevocably to her father, she must submit to being made comfortable in spite of herself. The money is mine to use exactly as I please, and this is my pleasure. Pray help me to carry it out. There is no need of consulting that dear old man, Brown, whose welfare I seek quite as earnestly as I do that of his daughter; for he is just the sweetest and dearest character I ever knew, and I would give the world to see his blessed old face, when he first discovers that he is a rich man. Tell me all about it. Be very careful and delicate in your management of this business, and say nothing until you have put it out of your power or mine to revoke what will make me the happier in the giving than they can be in receiving. When we meet I will tell you how this money came to be mine; but before then, I trust it will be in the possession of another. What do I want of American bonds? I think it would offend my dear old fairy-grandmother if I took them, and I know you will approve what I am doing."

Closs read the letter with a smile of pleasure; but when he took up the bonds again, his face clouded.

"Can I never wash my hands of that poor lady's money," he said. "Do what I can, it will come back to me."

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

THE BALL AT HOUGHTON.

The night arrived at last in which Lady Ca.r.s.et was to do the honors of her own castle, and receive the highest and brightest of the land in person. A range of boudoirs and saloons, connected with the state drawing-room, were thrown together, and united in one splendid vista by silken draperies and hot-house plants, which formed n.o.ble wreaths and arches over each entrance, filling room after room with brightness and fragrance.

The conservatories had been stripped that night, that their treasures of rare exotics might brighten the splendor of those rooms, and soften the ancestral grandeur of the vast entrance hall. They wound in ma.s.sive wreaths around the carved bal.u.s.trades of that broad oaken staircase--were duplicated over and over again in the height and breadth of those n.o.ble mirrors. They formed a blooming border around the oaken floors, black with age and bright with polish, of the dancing-rooms. The gilded orchestras were interlaced with them, and, in every group of plants or cl.u.s.tering wreath, jets of gas twinkled out like stars, casting tremulous shadows from the leaves, and lending a richer color to the blossoms.

When the first carriage load of guests came sweeping across the stone terrace, Lady Ca.r.s.et left her dressing-room, and, leaning on the arm of Lord Hope, took her place in the central drawing-room, with gentle dignity, and stood, with the gaslight quivering around her, touching up the richness of her purple garments with golden ripples of light, and striking out rainbows from the great Ca.r.s.et diamonds, which held, and gathered up the woven moonlight of her lace shawl on those dainty, sloping shoulders and delicate bust, which had not known such ornaments for years. A ripple of these n.o.ble jewels ran through the soft waves of her hair, and held the tuft of Marchant feathers and lappets of gossamer lace back from her left temple, whence they floated off gently into the snow of her hair, scarcely whiter than it was. A lovelier representative of the grandest aristocracy on earth, or a more dainty lady of the olden times, had never, since its foundation, done the honors of Houghton Castle. But the sweet old lady was already forced to exert all her strength, that nothing should fall short of the old hospitality on this the last fete she ever expected to give.

Lady Clara had followed her, half dancing, half floating down that broad staircase, jerking blossoms from the plants as she went, and forming them into a tiny bouquet for her grandmother. Her dress was just one cloud of silvery whiteness. A little cl.u.s.ter of moss rose buds on the left shoulder, and another in her belt, were all the ornaments she wore.

She had insisted, with almost pa.s.sionate vehemence, that no mention of her heirs.h.i.+p should be made that night, and the old lady consented with reluctance, but appeased her own impatience by a grand festival to all her tenants and retainers in the park, where nothing had been omitted which, in feudal times, was considered proper when the heirs.h.i.+p of Houghton was proclaimed. Still, in words, the old lady had kept honorable silence, and no one, even from the grandeur of the entertainment, had a right to more than guess that the general heirs.h.i.+p was settled on Lord Hope's daughter.

In fact, this entertainment was ostensibly given to Lord and Lady Hope, and the old countess had taken up the sparkling weight of all those Ca.r.s.et jewels, that all the world might know that they had come back honorably into her own possession. It was a splendid and most delicate way of acknowledging herself in the wrong.

Before the guests had commenced to arrive in any numbers, Lady Hope came floating into the state drawing-room, with a n.o.ble cactus flower sweeping backwards from the left side of her head, and resting upon the ma.s.sive braids of her hair, which curved upwards like a helmet, from her neck almost to the forehead. Chains of large rubies encircled her neck and arms, harmonizing with the cactus blossom, but forming a bold contrast to the amber silk of her dress, which swept far back upon the polished floor, and took the light as birds of Paradise fling off suns.h.i.+ne from their plumage. A beautiful and right queenly personage was Rachael Closs that night, as she moved across the floor and took her place by the little countess, who looked up and smiled gently when she saw that Lord Hope's wife appeared in the old family rubies, which she had presented to her that morning.

One bright glance at Clara, another of sparkling triumph at Lord Hope, and Rachael gave herself up to the brilliant duties that lay before her.

This night was to be the crowning success of her life.

The guests swept through the great entrance, and into the drawing-room now, in crowds and groups. Music sounded from half a dozen gilded orchestras, and the oaken floors of that old castle began to tremble under the feet of many dancers, as they kept time to the music, and sent out a soft undertone of conversation.

Lord Hope opened the ball with the elite of the elite. Lord Hilton led Lady Clara into the same set, at which the old countess nodded her head and smiled. She observed that the young n.o.bleman bent his head, and looking in the bright face of her grandchild, was talking earnestly to her, at which the dear old lady smiled again, and put up her fan, that no one might observe how pleased she was.

This was what Hilton was saying:

"And she would not come down, fearing to meet me? This is hard, Lady Clara!"

"No," answered the girl, reaching out her hand for a ladies' chain, and breaking from it in haste. "It is not altogether that; she says that it is impossible to be of us--that her birth forbids it, and any attempt at equality could only end in humiliation. I cannot persuade her out of this idea: entreat as I would, she refused utterly to come down. Then I got grandmamma to urge it, and she did it beautifully, but it was no use; and there the poor darling sits all alone, hearing the music and our voices, as prisoners in their cells listen to bird songs through windows in the walls. It is cruel! Why can't people be born all alike, and go up and down according to their own merits, I wonder?"

"That is an American idea. You must have picked it up there in your infancy, Lady Clara."

"I should not wonder. Some day I mean to go back there and see what social equality is like."

"Oh, you will find no place on earth where your t.i.tle will be of so much value, Lady Clara," said Hilton, laughing.

"Well, that is because the Americans respect history, and a.s.sociate us with the great deeds of mutual ancestors. It is the romance of tradition that interests them; for they are great readers, these Americans, and know more of us, as a people, than we do of ourselves. We represent the warriors and the statesmen which they have clothed in the poetry of great deeds. If the n.o.bility of this day disappoints them it is our own fault. When they learn that our greatness consists only in t.i.tles, we shall have little homage merely for them."

"What a strange little creature you are!"

"Yes, rather. It is our turn now."

After a little there was another long pause in the dance. Then Hilton went back to the subject nearest to his heart.

"You could not possibly persuade her to come down--not here, but into some of the less public rooms?" he said.

"Impossible. She would not think of it."

"Cruel!"

"Yes, I think so; but then, I would do exactly the same thing."

"What makes you start so, Clara?"

"Don't you see? There is Mr. Closs going up to grandmamma, and papa standing close by her. Why, Lord Hope is speaking to him! How good! how kind! They are both smiling; now, now, do look on mamma Rachael's face--she sees them, and happiness makes her splendid! He is coming this way. Understand now, I shall dance with him just as often as I can, and you are to help me if I get into any trouble. Thank Heaven, this set is over!"

"You are complimentary," laughed Lord Hilton.

"So I am; but you don't mind it. Here he is. Let me introduce you before he takes me off. Lord Hilton, Mr. Closs."

The next moment Clara was whirling through the room, with Hepworth Closs' arm around her waist, and her hand on his shoulder. She kept her word, and spent half her evening with him, managing to escape observation as much as possible, and thus secured a few hours of supreme happiness.

Lord Hope had received his brother-in-law with gentlemanly ease. How could he help it, not being master at Houghton?

Besides, he was disposed to cast off all responsibility with regard to his daughter's choice of a husband, and leave everything to the judgment and pride of the old countess, who happened to like Closs, and was not aware how much of that evening he spent with her grandchild.

Rachael was in ecstasies. She loved her brother dearly, and his apparent reconciliation with her husband lifted the last cloud from her heart. It seemed to her that night as if she had nothing to wish for.

The old countess stood to her post bravely, until after the supper-rooms had been thrown open and the gay crowds had pa.s.sed in and out again; but when the dancing had recommenced and the conversation around her grew brilliant and a little confusing, she turned suddenly pale, and would have fallen, but that Lady Clara, who stood near, sprang forward and threw both arms around her.

"She is better; she can walk now. I will go with her," cried the excited young creature. "Papa, you shall help her up-stairs, then I will take care of her," she added, seeing how helpless the old lady was.

Lord Hope almost carried the old lady up-stairs. Then Clara called aloud for Caroline Brown, who came out from her chamber, and, between them, they led the old countess into the tower-room.