Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume Part 39
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"How do you think He will deliver us?" asked Letty; "for I am sure this is a den, though there are no lions."
"I do not know how," said Aurelia, "but I know He will bear us through it as long as we trust Him and do nothing wrong," and she looked up at the bright sky with hope and strength in her face.
"Hark! what's that?" cried Letty, and Bob leapt up and barked as a great sob became plainly audible, and within the room appeared Mrs. Loveday, her face all over tears, which she was fast wiping away as she rose up from crouching with her head against the window-sill.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am," said she, her voice still broken when she rejoined them, "but I would not interrupt you, so I waited within; and oh, it was so like my poor old mother at home, it quite overcame me! I did not think there was anything so near the angels left on earth."
"Nay, Loveday," said Fay, apprehending the words in a different sense, "the angels are just as near us as ever they were to Daniel, only we cannot see them. Are they not, Cousin Aura?"
"Indeed they are, and we may be as sure that they will shut the lions'
mouths," said Aurelia.
"Ah! may they," sighed Loveday, who had by this time mastered her agitation, and remembered that she must discharge herself of her messages, and return hastily to my Lady's toilette.
"I have found the recipe," said Aurelia. "Here it is." And she put into Loveday's hand a yellow letter, bearing the t.i.tle in scribbled writing, "_Poure Embellire et blanchire la Pel, de part de Maistre Raoul, Parfumeur de la Royne Catherine_."
CHAPTER x.x.xII. LIONS.
The helmet of darkness Pallas donned, To hide her presence from the sight of man.
_Derby's_ HOMER.
The next morning Loveday returned with orders from Lady Belamour that Miss Delavie should translate the French recipe, and make a fair copy of it. It was not an easy task, for the MS. was difficult and the French old; whereas Aurelia lived on the modern side of the _Acadamie_, her French was that of Fenelon and Racine.
However, she went to work as best she could in her cool corner, guessing at many of the words by lights derived from _Comenius_, and had just made out that the chief ingredients were pounded pearls and rubies, mixed with white of eggs laid by pullets under a year old, during the waxing of the April moon, when she heard voices chattering in the hall, and a girlish figure appeared in a light cloak and calash, whom Loveday seemed to be guiding, and yet keeping as much repressed as she could.
"Gracious Heavens!" were the first words to be distinguished; "what a frightful old place; enough to make one die of the dismals! I won't live here when I'm married, I promise Sir Amyas! Bless me, is this the wench?"
"Your Ladys.h.i.+p promised to be careful," entreated Loveday, while Aurelia rose, with a graceful gesture of acknowledgment, which, however remained unnoticed, the lady apparently considering herself unseen.
"Who are these little girls?" asked she, in a giggling whisper. "Little Waylands? Then it is true," she cried, with a peal of shrill laughter.
"There are three of them, only Lady Belamour shuts them up like kittens--I wonder she did not. Oh, what sport! Won't I tease her now that I know her secret!"
"Your ladys.h.i.+p!" intreated Loveday in distress in an audible aside, "you will undo me." Then coming forward, she said, "You did not expect me at this hour, madam; but if your French copy be finished, my Lady would like to have it at once."
"I have written it out once as well as I could," said Aurelia, "but I have not translated it; I will find the copy."
She rose and found the stranger full before her in the doorway, gazing at her with an enormous pair of sloe-black eyes, under heavy inky brows, set in a hard, red-complexioned face. She burst into a loud, hoydenish laugh as Loveday tried to stammer something about a friend of her own.
"Never mind, the murder's out, good Mrs. Abigail," she cried, "it is me. I was determined to see the wench that has made such a fool of young Belamour. I vow I can't guess what he means by it. Why, you are a poor pale tallow-candle, without a bit of colour in your face. Look at me!
Shall you ever have such a complexion as mine, with ever so much rouge?"
"I think not," said Aurelia, with one look at the peony face.
"Do you know who I am, miss? I am the Lady Bella Mar. The Countess of Aresfield is my mamma. I shall have Battlefield when she dies, and twenty thousand pounds on my wedding day. The Earl of Aresfield and Colonel Mar are my brothers, and a wretched little country girl like you is not to come between me and what my mamma has fixed for me; so you must give it up at once, for you see he belongs to me."
"Not yet, madam," said Aurelia.
"What do you say? Do you pretend that your masquerade was worth a b.u.t.ton?"
"That is not my part to decide," said Aurelia. "I am bound by it, and have no power to break it."
"You mean the lawyers! Bless you, they will never give it to you against me! You'd best give it up at once, and if you want a husband, my mamma has one ready for you."
"I thank her ladys.h.i.+p," said Aurelia, with simple dignity, "but I will not give her the trouble."
She glanced at her wedding ring, and so did Lady Belle, who screamed, "You've the impudence to wear that! Give it to me."
"I cannot," repeated Aurelia.
"You cannot, you insolent, vulgar, low"--
"Hus.h.!.+ hush, my lady," entreated Loveday. "Come away, I beg of your ladys.h.i.+p!"
"Not till I have made that impudent hussy give me that ring," cried Belle, stamping violently. "What's that you say?"
"That your ladys.h.i.+p asks what is impossible," said Aurelia, firmly.
"Take that then, insolent minx!" cried the girl, flying forward and violently slapping Aurelia's soft cheeks, and making a s.n.a.t.c.h at her hair.
Loveday screamed, Letty cried, but Fidelia and Bob both rushed forward to Aurelia's defence, one with her little fists clenched, beating Lady Belle back, the other tearing at her skirts with his teeth. At that moment a man's step was heard, and a tall, powerful officer was among them, uttering a fierce imprecation. "You little vixen, at your tricks again," he said, taking Belle by the waist, while she kicked and screamed in vain. She was like an angry cat in his arms. "Be quiet, Belle," he said, backing into the sitting-room. "Let Loveday compose your dress. Recover your senses and I shall take you home: I wish it was to the whipping you deserve."
He thrust her in, waved aside Loveday's excuses about her ladys.h.i.+p not being denied, and stood with his back to the door as she bounced shrieking against it from within.
"I fear this little devil has hurt you, madam," he said.
"Not at all, I thank you, sire." said Aurelia, though one side of her face still tingled.
"She made at you like a little game-c.o.c.k," he said. "I am glad I was in time. I followed when I found she had slipped away from Lady Belamour's, knowing that her curiosity is only equalled by her spite. By Jove, it is well that her nails did not touch that angel face!"
Aurelia could only curtsey and thank him, hoping within herself that Lady Belle would soon recover, and wondering how he had let himself in.
There was something in his manner of examining her with his eyes that made her supremely uncomfortable. He uttered fas.h.i.+onable expletives of admiration under his breath, and she turned aside in displeasure, bending down to Fidelia. He went on, "You must be devilishly moped in this dungeon of a place! Cannot we contrive something better?"
"Thank you, sir, I have no complaint to make. Permit me to see whether the Lady Arabella is better."
"I advise you not. Those orbs are too soft and sparkling to be exposed to her talons. 'Pon my honour, I pity young Belamour. But there is no help for it, and such charms ought not to be wasted in solitude on his account. These young lads are as fickle as the weather-c.o.c.k, and have half-a-dozen fancies in as many weeks. Come now, make me your friend, and we will hit on some device for delivering the enchanted princess from her durance vile."
"Thank you, sir, I promised Lady Belamour to make no attempt to escape."
At that moment out burst Lady Belle, shouting with laughter: "Ho! ho!
Have I caught you, brother, gallanting away with Miss? What will my lady say? Pretty doings!"
She had no time for more. Her brother fiercely laid hold of her, and bore her away with a peremptory violence that she could not resist, and only turning at the hall door to make one magnificent bow.
Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume Part 39
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Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume Part 39 summary
You're reading Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume Part 39. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Charlotte M. Yonge already has 613 views.
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