Lost Lenore Part 66

I did not like giving the promise; but Cannon would take no denial; and, having nothing else to do, I agreed to meet him, at the time and place he had mentioned. After that we shook hands, and parted.

Though not particularly caring about either of them, I liked Vane less than I did Cannon. I was not at all surprised to find that a disagreement had sprung up between them. In fact, I would rather have felt surprised, to hear that they had remained so long in each other's society without having had a quarrel. Cannon, with all his faults, had some good qualities about him, enough to have rendered him unsuitable as a "chum" for the other; and I had antic.i.p.ated a speedy termination of their friends.h.i.+p. I knew that Vane must have done something very displeasing to Cannon, else the other would scarce have made use of such strong expressions, while speaking of his old a.s.sociate. Cannon, when not excited by pa.s.sion, was rather guarded in his language; and rarely expressed his opinions in a rash or inconsiderate manner.

Next morning, I met him according to appointment; and we drove to a cottage in Saint John's Wood--where he proposed introducing me to some of his English acquaintances. We were conducted into a parlour; and the servant was requested to announce, "Mr Cannon and friend."

The door was soon after opened; and Jessie H--stood before me!

On seeing me, she did not speak; but dropped down into a sofa; and for some time seemed unconscious, that there was anyone in the room.

It was cruel of Cannon thus to bring us again together; and yet he did not appear to be the least punished, although present at a scene that was painful to both of us. On the contrary, he seemed rather pleased at the emotion called forth upon the occasion.

Jessie soon recovered command of herself, but I could easily perceive, that her tranquil demeanour was artificial and a.s.sumed--altogether unlike her natural bearing, when I knew her on the banks of the Yarra Yarra.

Cannon strove hard to keep alive a conversation; but the task of doing so was left altogether to himself. I could give him but little help; and from Jessie he received no a.s.sistance whatever. The painful interview was interrupted by the entrance of Mr H--, whose deportment towards us, seemed even more altered than that of his daughter.

I could easily perceive, that he did not regard either Cannon, or myself, with any feeling of cordiality.

We were soon after joined by Mrs H--, who met us in a more friendly manner than her husband; and yet she, too, seemed acting under some restraint.

While Cannon engaged the attention of Mr and Mrs H--, I had a few words with Jessie.

She requested me to call, and see them again; but, not liking the manner in which her father had received me, I declined making a promise. To my surprise--and a little to my regret--she insisted upon it; and appointed the next morning, at eleven o'clock--when she and her mother would be alone.

"I am very unhappy, Rowland," muttered she, in an undertone. "I seldom see anyone whom I care for. Do come, and see us to-morrow. Will you promise?"

I could not be so rude--might I say cruel--as to refuse.

Our stay was not prolonged. Before we came away, Mrs H--also invited us to call again; but I noticed that this invitation, when given, was not intended to be heard by her husband.

"Little Rose is at school," said she, "and you must come to see her.

She is always talking of you. When she hears that you are in London, she will be wild to see you."

After our departure, my companion, who already knew my address, gave me his; and we separated, under a mutual agreement to meet soon again.

There was much, in what had just transpired, that I could not comprehend.

Why had Cannon not told me that Mr H--and his family were in London, before taking me to see them? Why had he pretended that he was going to introduce me to some of his London friends? I could answer these questions only by supposing, that he believed I would not have accompanied him, had I known on whom we were about to call.

He might well have believed this--remembering the unceremonious manner in which I had parted from his friends, at the time we visited them on the Yarra Yarra. But why should he wish me to visit them again--if he thought that I had no desire to do so?

This was a question for which I could find no reasonable answer. I felt certain he must have acted from some motive, but what it was, I could not surmise. Perhaps I should learn something about it next day, during the visit I had promised to make to Jessie. She was artless and confiding; so much so, that I felt certain she would tell me all that had taken place, since that painful parting on the banks of the Yarra Yarra.

Long after leaving the house in Saint John's Wood, I found occupation for my thoughts. I was the victim of reflections, both varied and vexatious.

By causing us to come together again, Fate seemed to intend the infliction of a curse, and not the bestowal of a blessing!

I asked myself many questions. Would a further acquaintance with Jessie subdue within my soul the memories of Lenore? Did I wish that such should be the case?

Over these questions I pondered long, and painfully--only to find them unanswered.

Jessie H--was beautiful beyond a doubt. There was a charm in her beauty that might have won many a heart; and mine had not been in different to it. There was music in her voice--as it gave utterance to the thoughts of her pure, artless mind to which I liked to listen. And yet there was something in my remembrance of Lenore--who had never loved me, and who could never be mine--sweeter and more enchanting than the music of Jessie's voice, or the beauty of her person!

Volume Three, Chapter XXV.

JESSIE'S SUITOR.

Next morning I repeated my visit to Saint John's Wood. I again saw Jessie. She expressed herself much pleased to see me; but upon her features was an expression that pained me to behold. That face, once bright and joyous, and still beautiful, gave evidence that some secret sorrow was weighing upon her heart.

"I know not whether I ought to be glad, or grieved, Rowland," said she.

"I am certainly pleased to see you. Nothing could give me greater joy; and yet I know that our meeting again must bring me much sorrow."

"How can this be?" I asked, pretending not to understand her.

"Ever since you left us on the Yarra Yarra, I have been trying to forget you. I had resolved not to see you again. And now, alas! my resolves have all been in vain. I know it is a misfortune for me to have met you; and yet I seem to welcome it. It was wrong of you to come here yesterday; and yet I could bless you for coming."

"My calling here yesterday," said I, "may have been an unfortunate circ.u.mstance, though not any fault of mine. I knew not, until I entered this house, but that you were still in Australia. Mr Cannon deceived me; he proposed introducing me to some of his London friends who lived here. Had I known on whom we were going to call, for my own happiness, I should not have accompanied him."

"Rowland, you are cruel!"

"How can you say so, when you've told me it was wrong for me to come?

Jessie! there is something in this I do not understand. Tell me, why it is wrong for me to have seen you, while, at the same time, you say you are pleased at it?"

"Rowland, spare me! Speak no more of this. Let us talk of other things."

I did my best to obey her; and we conversed nearly an hour, upon such topics as suggested themselves, until our _tete-a-tete_ was interrupted by the entrance of Mrs H--.

I could not well bid adieu to them, without promising to call again: for I had not yet seen little Rosa.

After my return home, I sate down to reflect upon the conversation I had had with Jessie--as also to seek some explanation of what had appeared mysterious in the conduct, not only of Cannon, but of Jessie's father and mother.

I had learnt that Mr H--, like many of the Australian wool growers, after having made his fortune in the colonies, had returned to his native land--intending to end his days in London.

I had also learnt that Vane--after that occasion on which he accompanied Cannon and myself, had often revisited the family on the Yarra Yarra; and had become a professed candidate for the hand of Jessie.

In the colony he had received but little encouragement to continue his advances, either from her father or mother. Since their arrival in London, however, Vane had come into possession of some property; and Mr H--had not only listened with favour to his proposals, but was strongly urging his daughter to do the same.

A matrimonial alliance with Vane would have been considered advantageous by most people in the social position of the H--family; and Jessie, like many other young ladies, was likely to be married to a man, who held but a second place in her affections.

Thousands do this, without surrendering themselves to a life of misery; and Jessie H--could scarce be expected to differ from others of her age and s.e.x. In fact, as I soon afterwards learnt, she had yielded to her father's solicitations, rather than to the suit of the wooer; and had given a reluctant consent to the marriage. It was to take place in about ten days from that time.

I also learnt that Vane and Cannon had quarrelled, before leaving Melbourne. I did not ascertain the exact cause. It was no business of mine; and I did not care to be made acquainted with it. With the conduct of the latter I had some reason to be dissatisfied. He had endeavoured to make use of me, as a means of obtaining revenge against his enemy--Vane.

I could not think of any other object he might have, in bringing me once more into the presence of Jessie.

To a certain extent he had succeeded in his design. Without vanity I could not shut my eyes to the fact of Jessie's aversion to her marriage with Vane; and I was convinced that, after seeing me, it became stronger.

I was by no means pleased at the idea of being made a cat's paw for the gratification of Cannon's revenge; and, next day, when his name was announced at my lodgings, I resolved that that meeting should be our last.