The Belton Estate Part 64

"I shall choose to think so for my own purposes. Clara, you are savage to me;--almost always savage; but next to him I love you better than all the world beside. And so does he. 'It's her courage,'

he said to me the other day. 'That she should dare to do as she pleases here, is nothing; but to have dared to persevere in the fangs of that old dragon,'--it was just what he said,--'that was wonderful!'"

"There is an end of the old dragon now, so far as I am concerned."

"Of course there is;--and of the young dragon too. You wouldn't have had the heart to keep me in suspense if you had accepted him again.

You couldn't have been so pleasant last night if that had been so."

"I did not know I was very pleasant."

"Yes, you were. You were soft and gracious,--gracious for you, at least. And now, dear, do tell me about it. Of course I am dying to know."

"There is nothing to tell."

"That is nonsense. There must be a thousand things to tell. At any rate it is quite decided?"

"Yes; it is quite decided."

"All the dragons, old and young, are banished into outer darkness."

"Either that, or else they are to have all the light to themselves."

"Such light as glimmers through the gloom of Aylmer Park. And was he contented? I hope not. I hope you had him on his knees before he left you."

"Why should you hope that? How can you talk such nonsense?"

"Because I wish that he should recognise what he has lost;--that he should know that he has been a fool;--a mean fool."

"Mrs. Askerton, I will not have him spoken of like that. He is a man very estimable,--of estimable qualities."

"Fiddle-de-dee. He is an ape,--a monkey to be carried on his mother's organ. His only good quality was that you could have carried him on yours. I can tell you one thing;--there is not a woman breathing that will ever carry William Belton on hers. Whoever his wife may be, she will have to dance to his piping."

"With all my heart;--and I hope the tunes will be good."

"But I wish I could have been present to have heard what pa.s.sed;--hidden, you know, behind a curtain. You won't tell me?"

"I will tell you not a word more."

"Then I will get it out from Mrs. Bunce. I'll be bound she was listening."

"Mrs. Bunce will have nothing to tell you; I do not know why you should be so curious."

"Answer me one question at least:--when it came to the last, did he want to go on with it? Was the final triumph with him or with you?"

"There was no final triumph. Such things, when they have to end, do not end triumphantly."

"And is that to be all?"

"Yes;--that is to be all."

"And you say that you have no letter to write."

"None;--no letter; none at present; none about this affair. Captain Aylmer, no doubt, will write to his mother, and then all those who are concerned will have been told."

Clara Amedroz held her purpose and wrote no letter, but Mrs. Askerton was not so discreet, or so indiscreet, as the case might be. She did write,--not on that day or on the next, but before a week had pa.s.sed by. She wrote to Norfolk, telling Clara not a word of her letter, and by return of post the answer came. But the answer was for Clara, not for Mrs. Askerton, and was as follows:--

Plaistow Hall, April, 186--.

MY DEAR CLARA,

I don't know whether I ought to tell you but I suppose I may as well tell you, that Mary has had a letter from Mrs.

Askerton. It was a kind, obliging letter, and I am very grateful to her. She has told us that you have separated yourself altogether from the Aylmer Park people. I don't suppose you'll think I ought to pretend to be very sorry.

I can't be sorry, even though I know how much you have lost in a worldly point of view. I could not bring myself to like Captain Aylmer, though I tried hard.

Oh Mr. Belton, Mr. Belton!

He and I never could have been friends, and it is no use my pretending regret that you have quarrelled with them.

But that, I suppose, is all over, and I will not say a word more about the Aylmers.

I am writing now chiefly at Mary's advice, and because she says that something should be settled about the estate. Of course it is necessary that you should feel yourself to be the mistress of your own income, and understand exactly your own position. Mary says that this should be arranged at once, so that you may be able to decide how and where you will live. I therefore write to say that I will have nothing to do with your father's estate at Belton;--nothing, that is, for myself. I have written to Mr. Green to tell him that you are to be considered as the heir. If you will allow me to undertake the management of the property as your agent, I shall be delighted. I think I could do it as well as any one else: and, as we agreed that we would always be dear and close friends, I think that you will not refuse me the pleasure of serving you in this way.

And now Mary has a proposition to make, as to which she will write herself to-morrow, but she has permitted me to speak of it first. If you will accept her as a visitor, she will go to you at Belton. She thinks, and I think too, that you ought to know each other. I suppose nothing would make you come here, at present, and therefore she must go to you. She thinks that all about the estate would be settled more comfortably if you two were together. At any rate, it would be very nice for her,--and I think you would like my sister Mary. She proposes to start about the 10th of May. I should take her as far as London and see her off, and she would bring her own maid with her. In this way she thinks that she would get as far as Taunton very well. She had, perhaps, better stay there for one night, but that can all be settled if you will say that you will receive her at the house.

I cannot finish my letter without saying one word for myself. You know what my feelings have been, and I think you know that they still are, and always must be, the same. From almost the first moment that I saw you I have loved you. When you refused me I was very unhappy; but I thought I might still have a chance, and therefore I resolved to try again. Then, when I heard that you were engaged to Captain Aylmer, I was indeed broken-hearted. Of course I could not be angry with you. I was not angry, but I was simply broken-hearted. I found that I loved you so much that I could not make myself happy without you. It was all of no use, for I knew that you were to be married to Captain Aylmer. I knew it, or thought that I knew it.

There was nothing to be done,--only I knew that I was wretched. I suppose it is selfishness, but I felt, and still feel, that unless I can have you for my wife, I cannot be happy or care for anything. Now you are free again,--free, I mean, from Captain Aylmer;--and how is it possible that I should not again have a hope? Nothing but your marriage or death could keep me from hoping.

I don't know much about the Aylmers. I know nothing of what has made you quarrel with the people at Aylmer Park;--nor do I want to know. To me you are once more that Clara Amedroz with whom I used to walk in Belton Park, with your hand free to be given wherever your heart can go with it. While it is free I shall always ask for it.

I know that it is in many ways above my reach. I quite understand that in education and habits of thinking you are my superior. But n.o.body can love you better than I do.

I sometimes fancy that n.o.body could ever love you so well.

Mary thinks that I ought to allow a time to go by before I say all this again;--but what is the use of keeping it back? It seems to me to be more honest to tell you at once that the only thing in the world for which I care one straw is that you should be my wife.

Your most affectionate Cousin,

WILLIAM BELTON.

"Miss Belton is coming here, to the castle, in a fortnight," said Clara that morning at breakfast. Both Colonel Askerton and his wife were in the room, and she was addressing herself chiefly to the former.

"Indeed, Miss Belton! And is he coming?" said Colonel Askerton.

"So you have heard from Plaistow?" said Mrs. Askerton.

"Yes;--in answer to your letter. No, Colonel Askerton, my cousin William is not coming. But his sister purposes to be here, and I must go up to the house and get it ready."

"That will do when the time comes," said Mrs. Askerton.

"I did not mean quite immediately."