Bessie's Fortune Part 22

"But I can't," Archie replied; "I cannot enjoy myself, feeling all the time that we are living upon other people, and accepting invitations we never can return. In short, we are nothing but impostors, both of us."

He spoke savagely, and turned to re-enter his dressing-room, in the door of which Bessie stood, with her great blue eyes fixed wonderingly and sadly upon him. She had heard all the conversation, and there was a troubled look on her face, as she said:

"What is an impostor, papa? What does it mean?"

"It means," he answered, "that we impose upon people every hour of our lives, pa.s.sing ourselves off for what we are not. People suppose we have money, when we haven't a s.h.i.+lling to spare, and owe everybody besides."

"I see; it means we are shams, and not real," Bessie said, and her bright face was overclouded with an expression pitiful to see in one so young.

This was the McPhersons' first day at Penrhyn Park, but the little pa.s.sage at arms did not at all dim Daisy's sky. Something would turn up, she knew; and at dinner something did turn up, for Mrs. Smithers mentioned to Archie that her husband had fallen in with the young Irish lord who had been for a day or two at the pension in Florence, and, remembering how intimate he was with Mr. McPherson he had invited him to spend a week at Penrhyn Park, and the young man had accepted, and would arrive the 10th. There was a gleam of triumph in Daisy's eyes as they met her husband's. The presence of Lord Hardy meant money, for she had only to lament her poverty and talk of burying herself at Stoneleigh, and instantly the generous Irishman would insist upon relieving her present needs.

"It is only a loan. You can pay me some time when your s.h.i.+p comes in, and really I have more than I know what to do with."

This was always Lord Hardy's argument, to which Daisy yielded, and went on piling up the debt which she insisted would be paid in some way, and her thoughts always turned to the old aunt in America, through whom relief must some day come. But Archie knew better, and their indebtedness to Lord Hardy filled him with shame, just as Daisy's intimacy with the young man filled him with disgust, though he had perfect faith in the Irishman, whose worst fault was an open and hearty admiration for a married woman; and, to a certain extent, he had faith in Daisy, who, much as she might compromise her good name by flirtation, would never break her marriage vow in the letter, even if she did in spirit. In a way she would be true to him always, but the world did not know her as he did, and he knew perfectly well how she was talked about and her frivolous conduct commented upon by such people as Lady Jane and her set. But he could not help himself. Daisy was master, and he submitted, with a feeling of humiliation which showed itself upon his face and made him very quiet and ill at ease, except when Bessie was with him. There was something about Bessie which restored his self-respect and made a man of him, Bessie was his all, and to himself he had made a vow that she should not follow in the footsteps of her mother.

"I will kill her first," he said, with clenched fists and flas.h.i.+ng eyes, and Daisy would never have known him could she have seen him when, as was often the case, he went over by himself what he would say to her if he ever got his courage up.

Taking a chair for his auditor, he would gesticulate fiercely, and declare that he would not stand it any longer. "Daisy McPherson," he would say, addressing himself to the chair, "I tell you what it is. I am ashamed of myself, and of you, too, and I am going to stop it, and take you home, and be master of my own house, and if we cannot live on our small income, you can take up your dead mother's trade and make dresses, and, by Jove, I'll help you, too! I'll keep the books, and--and--"

Here he would stop, not knowing exactly what else he would do, for work was something to which he did not take kindly.

As the chair never offered any remonstrance, no matter how savage he was, he usually felt better, and respected himself more after an attack upon it, and there the battle ended, for he had not the courage to deal thus with his wife, who had ruled him too long to yield her scepter now.

Such was the condition of things between this ill-a.s.sorted pair when we find them at Penrhyn Park, which so fully accorded with Daisy's tastes that she at once determined to stay longer than a month, even if she were not invited to extend her visit. She had been at the park a week or more, enjoying all the _eclat_ of the favored guest, for Mrs. Smithers'

infatuation was complete, when it was announced at the breakfast table that the Hon. John McPherson, with Lady Jane and Neil, would arrive that evening in time for dinner.

Instantly Archie's face flushed crimson, for he had not seen his uncle since his marriage, which had called forth a letter so angry in its tone that he had never answered it, or sought for any further intercourse with his indignant relative.

Daisy, on the contrary, was wholly unmoved.

"_Veni, vidi, vici_," was her motto, which had proved true in so many instances that she fancied she had only to meet the haughty Lady Jane face to face and conquer her also. And yet she did feel a little nervous when, as the hour for the train drew near, she went to her room and commenced her toilet for dinner.

"Let me see," she murmured: "they have undoubtedly heard that I am a brazen face and a minx, and awfully extravagant and flashy in style; so simplicity in dress and modesty of demeanor will best suit me now. I must not wear my paste diamonds, for though I've no idea Lady Jane can tell them from the real, she would think them far too expensive for people in our circ.u.mstances, and wonder how I got them."

So the false diamonds were put aside, as was everything else which could awaken an inquiry as to its cost, and a simple blue muslin was chosen, with ruching at the neck and nothing on the sleeves, which were rather wide and showed to good advantage the beautifully rounded arms and hands, of which Daisy was so proud. Her golden curls were gathered in a s.h.i.+ning ma.s.s at the back of her head and fastened with a comb of pink coral, Lord Hardy's gift, when he was in Naples with her. At her throat she wore a blush rose and another in her belt, with no jewelry of any kind, except her wedding ring, and Bessie's turquois, which she still appropriated. Nothing could be simpler than her whole dress, and nothing more becoming, for it gave her a sweet girlish look, which she knew always produced an effect.

Meanwhile the expected guests had arrived, and Daisy heard them in the hall as they took possession of the room opposite hers. Lady Jane was very tired, and hot, and dusty, for she had come from Edinburgh that day, and she glanced around her luxurious apartment with a feeling of comfort and relief, as she issued her orders to her maid, Lydia, and talked to her husband.

"Open the little trunk, Lydia, and take out my pearl-colored grenadine; I cannot wear a heavy silk to-night; and find my Valenciennes fichu and my small diamonds, I don't suppose there is any one in particular here, unless it is Lady Oakley, and she, I presume has the room opposite this.

She did, the last time we were here. John, we are really very comfortable. Mrs. Smithers knows how to keep up an attractive house, and is a charming woman, though, of course, not quite to the manner born.

Was her father an iron monger, or what?"

"He was a wholesale merchant, and worth a mint of money. Why, he could buy out every McPherson and Trevellian in the United Kingdom," was John's reply; and then, with a little toss of her head, Lady Jane began her toilet, for it wanted but an hour of dinner.

"There, that will do for me; I can finish the rest myself. And now go to Blanche's room and see to her and send Neil to me," she said to Lydia, when she was nearly dressed.

Lydia obeyed, and after she had gone, Lady Jane said to her husband:

"I hope Mrs. Smithers will not object to Blanche, even if she was not invited. I really could not leave her behind."

There was no reply from John, who was busy in the dressing-room, but a fresh young voice from the doorway answered her:

"I think it was downright cheeky to bring her without an invitation.

With her giggling, and her _reelys_, and her _yis-es_--all she can say--and her white eyebrows and tow hair, she is not very ornamental, even if she has ten thousand a year."

The speaker was Neil McPherson, the boy who on the Fourth of July had been thrashed by Grey Jerrold for his sneer at the American flag, find his comments on American ladies. He was a year older than Grey, with a dark, handsome face, a pleasant smile, and winsome ways when he chose to be agreeable. As a rule, he was very good-natured, and his manners were perfect for a boy of fifteen; but there was in all he did or said an air of superiority, as if he felt himself quite above the majority of his companions, which, indeed, was the fact. Trained by his mother from infancy to consider the Trevellian blood the best in England outside the pale of royalty, and the McPherson blood the best outside the peerage, it was not strange that his good qualities--and he had many--should be warped, and dwarfed, and overshadowed by an indomitable pride and supreme selfishness, which would prompt him at any time to sacrifice his best friend in behalf of his own interest. And yet Neil was generally a favorite, for he was frank, and obliging, and good-humored, and very gentlemanly in his manner, and quick to render the little attentions so gratifying to the ladies, by whom he was held in high esteem as a pattern boy. He was the idol of his mother, who saw no fault in him whatever, and who had commenced already to plan for him a brilliant marriage, or at least a marriage of money, for her own income was not large, and that of her husband smaller still.

Blanche Trevellian, whom Neil had designated as tow-haired, and white-browed, was her grand-niece, and Neil's second cousin, and as heiress to ten thousand a year, she might develop into a desirable _parti_, notwithstanding her ordinary appearance now. And so, when the girl became an orphan, Lady Jane offered to take charge of her, and took her into the family as the daughter of the house, though she never encouraged Neil to think of her as a sister. She was his cousin Blanche, and ent.i.tled to a great deal of forbearance and respect, because of her money, and because her mother had been the granddaughter of a duke. Neil called her cousin Blanche, and quarreled with and teased her, and made fun of her white eyebrows, and said her feet were too big, and her ankles too small, and that on standing she always bent her knees to make herself look short; for she was very tall and angular, and awkward every way.

"Wait till my cousin Bessie grows up; there's a beauty for you," he had said to his mother on his return from Stoneleigh, where he had spent a few days the winter previous, and greatly to the annoyance of his mother, he talked constantly of the lovely child who had made so strong an impression upon him.

Lady Jane had heard much of Daisy's exploits, and as the stories concerning her were greatly exaggerated, she looked upon her, if not actually an abandoned woman, as one whose good name was hopelessly tarnished, and she never wished to see either her face or that of her child. Nor did she dream how near the enemy was to her; only just across the hall, in the room which she fully believed to be occupied by her friend, old Lady Oakley, from Grosvenor Square. When her husband and Neil went out, as they did soon after the latter had expressed himself with regard to Blanche and been sharply reproved, they left the door ajar, and she could hear the sound of footsteps in the room opposite, where Lady Oakley was supposed to be making her toilet, just as Lady Jane was making hers.

"I believe I will go and see her," she said to herself, when her dressing was completed and she found she had a good fifteen minutes before the dinner hour, and stepping across the hall she knocked at Daisy's door.

Daisy's first impulse was to call out, "_Entrez!_" as she did on the Continent; her second, to open the door herself, which she did, disclosing to the view of her astonished visitor, not a fat, red-faced dowager of seventy, but a wonderful vision of girlish loveliness, clad in simple muslin, with a mischievous twinkle in the blue eyes which met hers so fearlessly.

"I beg your pardon, miss," Lady Jane began, stammeringly: "I thought this was Lady Oakley's room. She is my friend. I hope you will excuse me," she continued, as she detected the smothered mirth in Daisy's eyes.

"There is nothing to excuse," Daisy began, in perfectly well-bred tones, "the mistake was natural. Lady Oakley did occupy this room, I believe, but she is now in the north wing, as Mrs. Smithers kindly gave this room to me so that I might be near you; that is, if, as I suppose, you are Lady Jane McPherson?" and she looked steadily at her visitor, who with a slight bridling of her long neck, bowed in the affirmative, never doubting that the young person before her was fully her equal, notwithstanding the plainness of her dress, every detail of which she took in at a glance and mentally p.r.o.nounced perfect.

"Some poor earl's daughter whom Mrs. Smithers has found. She has a peculiar talent for making good acquaintances," she thought, just as Daisy offered her hand, which she involuntarily took, but dropped as if it had been a viper when the latter said:

"Then you are my aunt, or rather my husband's aunt, for I am Mrs.

Archibald McPherson, and I am so glad to meet you."

Had a bomb-sh.e.l.l exploded at Lady Jane's feet and struck her in the face she could not have been more astonished. Stepping quickly back from this claimant to her notice, her face grew pale for an instant, and then flushed with anger, as she gasped:

"_You_, Mrs. Archibald McPherson! that--that--" she did not say what, but added, "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting Mrs. Smithers like yourself," Daisy replied, with imperturbable gravity. "We were together in Florence, where I was sick, and she was kind enough to like me, and she invited me to spend this month with her, so that I might meet Archie's relatives, whom she thought I ought to know, and Lady Oakley thinks so too. She came yesterday."

"Yes," Lady Jane kept repeating, as she retreated step by step till she stood in her own door, with her eyes still fixed upon Daisy, who fascinated her in spite of her deeply rooted prejudice, amounting almost to hatred.

The creature, as she designated her, was far prettier than she had supposed, and might pa.s.s for a lady with those who knew nothing of her antecedents--but then her reputation as a bold, fast woman! Would it be safe or right to allow Blanche, whom she designed for Neil, to remain under the same roof with such a person? was her first query. Still, if Mrs. Smithers, who was a power in the social world, notwithstanding her connection with trade, had taken her up, and Lady Oakley, too, perhaps it would be better not to make a scene and show her animosity too much.

She could be barely civil to the woman and cut her visit short on one pretext or another. Thus deciding, she said:

"Meeting you so suddenly has surprised me very much, Mrs. McPherson. I hope your husband is well. I knew him when a boy. Perhaps he is in the drawing-room. I think I will go down, as it is nearly dinnertime," and bowing stiffly, she went down the stairs, every nerve quivering with insulted dignity, and not quite certain whether she heard a smothered laugh or not from the room, where Daisy was shaking with laughter at what she termed the old cat's discomfiture.

"Nasty thing!" she said "how she hates me, and how little I care! I hope I sha'n't let her spoil my fun. I have the inside track, and I mean to keep it!"

Thus deciding, she, too, started for the drawing-room, where the guests were a.s.sembling for dinner, and where Mrs. Smithers, who was by nature rather officious and anxious to right everything, was explaining to Lady Jane that she had invited Mr. and Mrs. Archibald McPherson to meet her, and was descanting upon the beauty and amiability of the latter, whom her ladys.h.i.+p was sure to like.

"A little too much of a coquette, perhaps," she said, "but so very pretty and piquant that she cannot help attracting admiration."

"Yes, I know--I have seen her. I made her acquaintance in the upper hall," Lady Jane answered, coldly, and this saved the embarra.s.sment of an introduction when Daisy at last appeared, perfectly self-possessed and graceful, and looking, as Lady Jane unwillingly confessed to herself, as innocent as a Madonna.

Meanwhile Archie had sought his uncle, resolved to have the awkwardness of their first meeting over before any prying eyes were upon them. He found him alone, and, mustering all his courage, went up to him and offered his hand, as if nothing had ever occured to separate them.