Bluebell Part 32

If her father refused consent, would a long secret engagement, promising to remain faithful to each other, be their only resource? Cecil smiled at the idea. She did not forget she was an heiress and of age. Love is for the young, and she was far too proud to meditate bestowing herself upon Bertie when years should have quenched hope and spirit, and stealthily abstracted every charm of youth. And as to him? Well, his antecedents had certainly given no promise of the long suffering fidelity of a Jacob.

Colonel Rolleston was pretty well aware of what was pa.s.sing in his daughter's mind, for his eyes were now fully opened; but he did not choose to show it.

They arrived at Cobourg, where he found his letters; and then the horses were put up to bait, and they went to the hotel for luncheon.

Cecil expressed a hope that they would be able to return when the horses were rested.

"Certainly," said her father; "we will drive back to dinner."

And, much relieved, she brightened up considerably.

Now the Colonel would rather have detained her long enough there to ensure pa.s.sing Du Meresq on the road; but the _ennui_ of spending so many hours in so uninteresting a place, and the absence of any excuse for waiting, favoured Cecil's wishes.

Still the time seemed interminable to her in that dusty inn parlour, with its obsolete Annuals, cracked pianoforte, and ugly prints on the walls.

Surely no horses ever required so long a rest, and when her father suggested ordering her some tea, it seemed almost like _malice prepense_ to occasion a further delay.

However, they were off at last, and as they rattled along in their shaky conveyance, she became painfully conscious of its discomfort. Every jolt was anguish, and her head and all her limbs were aching. Was it the ducking yesterday, or only this dreadful springless buggy?

They reached the landing before any of the party had returned, and Cecil sought her gable and threw herself on the bed, trusting to rest to remove some of her unpleasant sensations.

As she closed her eyes, she fell into a not unhappy reverie. True, there were opposition and difficulties to contend with, but Bertie was her own, and she would never doubt him more. How disinterested and straightforward he had been in freeing himself from debt before he spoke at all? Even her father must acknowledge that; also that he had sufficient money for the career he had chosen, and only valued her fortune as a security and comfort to herself.

The unutterable luxury of being able to think of him unrestrained only dated from yesterday; for before there was always the humiliating dread that her idolatry was only returned in the same measure in which it was distributed among his somewhat numerous loves. But now distrust had all melted away, and she cared not for the many who had hooked, and lost, since she had landed him.

Aroused by the splash of oars on the lake, Cecil tried to spring from the bed, but her limbs were stiff and heavy, and she dragged herself languidly to the window. They were all on the landing but Du Meresq, and the quick pulsation stilled again.

"I suppose he went first to the hotel," thought she, and began arranging her hair, disordered by the pillow. She heard Lola running upstairs, and called her as she pa.s.sed.

"I am coming, Cecil. I have got a message for you from Bertie, which is, that he has only gone up to the hotel, and will be here in ten minutes."

Cecil kissed the welcome Mercury, and drew her into the room shutting the door.

"Well, dear, and did you have a pleasant day? What did you do?"

"Oh, yes," said Lola, whose eyes were glittering with excitement, and who had altogether rather a strange manner. "That is to say, pretty well. We didn't do much."

"How was that?"

"Why, Bertie and Bluebell were so stupid. They went away by themselves for ever so long."

Cecil felt as if a hand had suddenly clutched her heart and frozen the blood in her veins. Could that pale face, with wildly gleaming eyes, be the same so sweet and tranquil, that was carelessly smiling at the child an instant before?

"And do you know, Cecil," pursued Lola, warming with her subject, and speaking with intense excitement, "Bertie kissed Bluebell. I saw him do it."

A pause, and the child, apparently gratified by the interest she had awakened, continued,--

"I think Bluebell was crying, and he trying to console her; at any rate, I heard him say he 'loved her very much.'"

One has noticed some years warm weather set in delusively early, and blossoms of fruit and flowers nursed in its smiles peep prematurely forth; and then a biting frost and northeast wind will spring up, the sun all the while treacherously s.h.i.+ning, and in one hour destroy the bud and promise for ever. No less swift was the scathing power wielded by that innocent executioner. Every word, fraught with conviction and crus.h.i.+ng evidence, sank deep down into her heart. She sat so still that Lola got frightened, and entreated her to say what was the matter; but Cecil appeared unconscious of her presence, and, scared and bewildered, the child shrank away.

Then the girl rose up, and with rapid, uneven steps paced the room. After a while, first bolting the door, she unlocked a sandal-wood box, where, tied with a ribbon and carefully dated, was a packet of Bertie's letters.

One by one she patiently read them through, noting and comparing pa.s.sages, then tying them up, wrote the day of the month and the hour on a slip of paper, and finally enclosed all in an outer cover, which she sealed with her signet-ring, and directed to Du Meresq. This done, the restless walk was resumed. Her head was burning, and throbbed almost too wildly to think. One line seemed ceaselessly to ring in it, that had mingled with her dreams last night, and recurred with hateful appropriateness,--

"Once the soul of truth is gone, love's sweet life is o'er."

Contempt of herself for having been so duped added bitterness to these thoughts. How long and easily had Bertie and Bluebell hoodwinked her to be on the terms they were, and doubtless had often laughed over her simplicity and short-sightedness! But Lola had described her in tears, not smiles; and then Bertie appeared baser than ever. He loved Bluebell, yet would sacrifice her for Cecil's fortune; for the unhappy girl no longer believed in his disinterested professions of the day before. No!

she was dark and unlovely, and her rival beautiful, in his favourite style! And Du Meresq was black and treacherous, as a smothered instinct had sometimes warned her.

Mrs. Rolleston came to the door and begged her to come down. Lola's account had startled her. Cecil entreated to be left alone; "she had a splitting headache, and wished to be quiet;" and on her step-mother effecting an entrance, the sight of her face left no doubt of the validity of the excuse.

"Bertie will be so disappointed if he does not see you to-night," cried she regretfully. A bitter smile, and the reiteration, "I cannot come down."

"Your hand is burning, child. You are in a fever. What _is_ the matter?"

Cecil coldly withdrew it, in the same somnambulistic manner, and said she would lie down; and Mrs. Rolleston went out, hurt by her want of confidence, and much bewildered by many events of that day.

Lola next invaded her, sent by Bertie to entreat for admission. "He only just wants to come in for a minute, and see how you are."

"I can't see _any one_, my head is too bad; tell Bertie so. I am going to lock the door, and go to bed."

But she only threw herself on it. The light waned and darkened, and the moon arose. Then Cecil stole cautiously to the window and watched.

Presently Du Meresq came out alone, and she knew he was on his way to the boat. He would look up, she was sure, and she entrenched herself behind the curtain. By the light of the moon she saw his gaze rivet itself on her window, as though it would pierce the gloom. His face was strangely pale, and even sad, and her rebellious heart throbbed wildly as she felt how perilously dear he still was to her. He turned away. Whatever he wore or did, there was a picturesque grace about him, thought Cecil; and as his boat became smaller and smaller in the distance, she wished, in the bitterness of her heart, they had both sunk in the squall of yesterday, e'er she had discovered how falsely he had lied to her.

Lola again disturbed her. "Papa says he is coming up in ten minutes to see you. Bertie told me to tell you he was very sorry you would not speak to him, or say good-bye."

Lola had dined late, it being her birthday, and wore Cecil's locket on a ribbon, but she looked scared and depressed. "It was so dull downstairs,"

she said. "Mamma had gone away after dinner, and talked a long time to Bluebell. Bertie had not come out of the dining room till it was time to go, and she had had no one to speak to but Miss Prosody--not a bit like a birthday."

"Lola," said Cecil, much too preoccupied to attend to her complaints, "has the letter bag gone down to the boat yet?"

"I saw it still open in the pa.s.sage."

"Then run down quick with this big letter--you understand? Don't stop to speak to any one, but put it in the bag and come back and tell me when it is done."

The child looked at the address "Why, Cecil," said she, curiously, "this is for Bertie! What a pity I couldn't have given it to him before he went! What a lot of postage stamps it takes!"

"Never mind, dear, run away with it," anxiously.

Lola was but just in time before the Colonel came out, locked the bag, and went upstairs to his daughter.

Pre-occupied as he was, he was startled at her changed appearance. A shawl was thrown around her, and she appeared s.h.i.+vering, while a fever spot burned on either cheek. The Colonel was alarmed and irritated. "It is all that folly yesterday. Have your fire lit, and go to bed, but I must say a word or two first."

No a.s.sistance from Cecil, he took a turn or two about the room, surprised at her apathy. It was very difficult to begin, he wished to be kind, but was determined to be firm. How indifferent she seemed. Perhaps she would not care so very much.

"Cecil," he began, "you will guess what I wish to speak about. I don't know whether I was more surprised or annoyed at Du Meresq's preposterous proposal for you to-night."

"What did he say, papa?"