Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 1 (of 3) by Mrs. Alexander (inspirational novels .TXT) 📖

walk. Gilpin took the Colonel's arm, and Kate accepted mine. The glorious moon, not yet risen to her highest altitude, threw out the lacelike tracery of the cathedral towers into strong relief—silvering the walls here and there, leaving large masses of deep shadow, while the old gateways and arches looked like openings into an abyss of darkness. A few light clouds floated in the deep blue sky. We walked on for some moments in silence.

"The last time your hand rested on my arm,[Pg 136] Miss Vernon, I little thought I should so soon discover what you would not reveal."

"How?"

"Do you not remember how perversely you kept silence when I wanted to find out your abode?"

"Oh, yes," with a laugh, "I was so afraid you would have found out my trick, that I took care to obey poor Mrs. Winter's commands. How strangely it all turned out!"

Not much more passed between us until we passed the old church yard, where the organist left us.

"Scarcely late enough for ghosts," said the Colonel, with a smile, "but Kate would rather like to meet one."

"Not I," said Miss Vernon; "anything troubled, as ghosts always are, would be terribly out of place this calm heavenly night; though to be sure we have a black monk who walks up and down our garden from sunset till cock crow."

[Pg 137]

"There is something strangely attractive in the romantic antiquity of your domicile. I fancy it must exercise some influence on one's spirits," said I, smiling.

"Indeed, Captain Egerton, I often tell grandpapa that I am sure we are influenced by locality as well as everything else."

We paused at the wicket gate.

"I was endeavouring to make out that inscription this morning, Colonel," said I.

"You can almost read it now, the moon shines so full upon it," observed Kate. "If you knew the text you would have made it out at once. See, at this side there is the Beati mundo corde quite plain, and round here can you not trace Deum videbunt?"

"Ah, yes; of course, now you point it out."

"This is the proper light to read it by," said Miss Vernon, thoughtfully, "and do you know I sometimes like to think the entrance to our house is, as it were, sanctified by that beautiful[Pg 138] sentence—'Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God!'"

"Ah, enthusiast!" said her grandfather, laughing and shaking his head, "Dragoons do not quite comprehend such fancies."

I could see the soft colour mount into her cheek as if she had betrayed herself.

"Do you believe him, Miss Vernon?" I asked eagerly.

"I do not know; good night."

"Good night, Egerton, you dine with us to-morrow; you can take the train to Carrington afterwards, you know."

"Thank you, Colonel, with pleasure; good night."

The wicket closed on them, and I remained for some minutes in the full, clear, calm light, gazing at the half-defaced letters, and recalling the tones of Miss Vernon's expressive and musical voice, as she pronounced the (as I thought) appropriate words which formed the inscription.[Pg 139] And then I strolled on slowly to my hotel, thinking more seriously than is usual to me, and finally fell asleep and dreamt I was riding across the sea to Dungar on Winter's white pony, which did not strike me as anything uncommon.

[Pg 140]

CHAPTER VI.
REACTION.

Another day of calm and deep enjoyment.

I took my way to the Priory House at a very early hour, in order to make the sketch I had promised Miss Vernon. She was reading to her grandfather when I arrived, and welcomed me joyously, entering with eager interest into my preparations for drawing, and the various questions which arose as to the objects to be taken in, &c., in a way, too, which showed some knowledge[Pg 141] of the art; and hour after hour slipped by as I sat before the window, sometimes laying down my pencil to talk with the Colonel, sometimes caressing his fine old dog, who appeared to have established a species of guard over me; while Kate, constantly watchful of my progress, flitted backwards and forwards between me and the open window, often pointing with her rosy forefinger to some shading she wished deepened, or some light brought into stronger relief; branching off from discussions on the effects of distance, &c., into all sorts of irrelevant subjects, then blaming herself for interrupting me, and exhorting me to renewed diligence; and all this so naturally, so earnestly, showing openly her pleasure at having me to talk to, but without one shadow of that indescribable consciousness by which so many women seem to say to themselves, "Now I know he is going to make love to me." No, strongly as I felt tempted to do so, there was a frankness and repose in Miss Vernon's manner I would not for worlds have disturbed[Pg 142] by even a whisper of the profound admiration she inspired.

Something of the high principled and unselfish tone pervading the society into which I had fallen, appeared to influence me with more of thought for future consequences than was my usual habit; besides, there is nothing so blighting to sentimentalism as the friendly cordiality I have described; nevertheless, though I do not believe I was ever before so long in the society of a beautiful girl without getting up some degree of flirtation, the morning flew rapidly and delightfully away.

The Colonel had letters to write, and his granddaughter's visits to my impromptu studio, if fewer, were more confidential. She told me of the long visits she had paid to Lady Desmond, both in London and Dublin, and of the delightful singing lessons she had taken in the former place, adding that she owed her first and last peep at the great and gay world to her cousin. It appeared that Lady Desmond had been displeased[Pg 143] with her for returning to Dungar, and had not written to her for a long time. "But you know," said Kate, "grandpapa was about to leave Dungar then, and I could not let him do so alone, nor go away without a last look at my old happy home." All this was told in a low tone, as if she did not wish the Colonel to overhear it, and in a confidential manner inexpressibly delightful to me. She had knelt down to caress Cormac, and after remaining for some seconds rolling up his long ear thoughtfully, looked up suddenly in my face and added, "I did not intend to bore you with such a long prose about my difficulties with Georgina; the reason I mentioned the subject at all was because I heard you tell grandpapa you had a sister at Naples. Lady Desmond was there, I heard, about a month ago, and I wish you would ask your sister, when you write, if she knows anything of her; I cannot bear to lose sight of her so completely." I promised very readily to do as she desired, though I warned her it might be months before I would get[Pg 144] any reply, as my sister was but a careless correspondent.

"Thanks, and I will not interrupt you any more."

"You do not interrupt me in the least, I assure you; but if you are determined to go, perhaps you will sing. I see Colonel Vernon shutting his writing desk."

"With pleasure; would you like an Irish melody?"

"Beyond every thing."

And the next minute her rich voice was pouring forth in a full tide of sweetness, "Has sorrow thy young days shaded?"

I soon dropped my pencil, and even after the last notes had died away, remained listening for their renewal; then collecting my drawing materials, I rose, and promising Miss Vernon to finish the sketch from memory, I invited the Colonel to accompany me on a visit of ceremony to Mrs. Winter; it was succeeded by another peep at the studio, a walk with the Colonel, and then[Pg 145] came the pleasant friendly dinner, the frank cheerful interchange of thought, the after-dinner cup of coffee and stroll in the pleasure ground to look at the moon reflected in the river; while Miss Vernon, courteously anxious to give me what she prized herself, gathered a bouquet of her choicest autumnal flowers, "to make me forget that horrid Carrington, at least in my own room," she said; her grandfather laughing at the idea of her expecting I should care for such things.

How delightfully homelike it all was.

Finally she sang me the serenade that had so enchanted me, and before the last notes were well hushed, Nurse announced the cab I had ordered to convey me to the railway.

I rose reluctantly, the Colonel, Nurse, and Cormac, and even Kate, coming out in the fresh night air, all perfumed with the clematis and heliotropes that adorned the front of the cottage, to see me off.

"Good bye, Captain Egerton," said Kate,—[Pg 146] "be sure to come back soon, and do not forget the drawings; have you got your flowers?"

"It would be a bold man that would attempt to take them from me, Miss Vernon; good night!"

"A thousand thanks, Colonel, for my very pleasant visit to A——."

"God bless you, take care of yourself," he replied.

"A' then the saints go wid ye!" said Nurse.

"Good bye, Mrs. O'Toole; I'll never taste an eatable trout, until I return."

"Good night once more;" and I threw myself into the cab, with a feeling of extraordinary regret, and affection for the old Colonel; for Mrs. O'Toole, aye, even for Cormac; but for Kate—Caramba, as Winter would say.

A short hour of hissing and clattering, and I was back again amongst the bustling, crowded, glaring, gas exhaling streets of Carrington; amidst the confusion of noisy omnibuses and uncouth cries, of drunken mechanics, and wretched beggar women with their imps of children!

[Pg 147]

It was after ten o'clock before I entered the mess room to report my return, (having first placed my precious flowers in safety). I found the apartment redolent of the savoury odours of dinner and cigars, and occupied by a larger party than usual; all of whom were in loud and eager debate on the respective merits of the favourites for the approaching Doncaster meeting. As soon as they perceived me through the cloudy atmosphere, I was greeted with a perfect hurricane of queries, exclamations, and offers of fifty and a hundred to one, against divers and sundry horses, colts, and fillies.

"Where, in the name of mystery, have you been skulking?"

"Hullo! Egerton, you're the very man I wanted; give me the long odds against M——'s mare; you're sure to win, and it will just square my book."

"I say, Fred, I've backed 'Tearaway,' would you have me hedge off?"

[Pg 148]

"What has become of you; you have missed such a spread at the Mayor's, and such speeches as would have driven Murray to suicide."

"A hundred to five you don't name the winner."

"Ha! Egerton, just come back?"

"Keep cool, my dear fellows, and give me some claret."

I sat down, endeavouring in vain to enter clearly into the several subjects they were so eagerly discussing, and perfectly bewildered by the strong contrast the whole scene presented to my life for the last few days. Then followed long weary debates on the coming event, interspersed with anecdotes of the villainy of certain trainers and the intense knowingness of the jockies. Finally, I began to take some interest in the details; the result partly of habit, and partly of an effort to do so, lest any appearance of pre-occupation might set my brother officers on the scent to discover its course. I was successful—for Sedley exclaimed, "I never saw[Pg 149] Egerton return from one of his philosophic expeditions with his wits so much about him."

"By the way, you've been over to that tumble down old place A——; is it worth seeing?" said another.

"Yes, to a lover of the picturesque and antique, but it has nothing else to attract."

"Ah! that will do; I do not care for the picturesque."

"Were you successful in your search?" asked Burton imprudently.

"For what?" called out half a dozen.

"For the picturesque, of course," he replied. I breathed again.

"Yes, particularly successful." He smiled, and shrinking from the thought of my companions getting the slightest clue to his real meaning, especially in their present mood, I rose and bid them all good-night, having endured their Babel for more than two hours.

"And you will not sport even a pony on the Leger?"

[Pg 150]

"No, not a sixpence, I was bitten too severely at Ascot last spring."

"Never say die, you're not going to knock under to your luck that way?"

"I am, though, and I wish I could persuade you to do