Dora Thorne by Charlotte Mary Brame (any book recommendations .TXT) 📖

were flying from numerous tents, bands of music were stationed in different parts of the grounds, the fountains played merrily in the sunlit air. Lord Airlie walked mechanically on, bowing in reply to the salutations he received.

A pretty little bower, a perfect thicket of roses, caught his attention. From it one could see all over the lake, with its gay pleasure boats. Lord Airlie sat down, believing himself to be quite alone; but before he had removed a large bough that interfered with the full perfection of the view he heard voices on the other side of the thick, sheltering rose bower.

He listened involuntarily, for one of the voices was clear and pure, the other more richly musical than any he had ever heard at times sweet as the murmur of the cushat dove, and again ringing joyously and brightly.

"I hope we shall not have to wait here long, Lillian," the blithe voice was saying. "Lady Helena promised to take us on the lake."

"It is very pleasant," was the reply; "but you always like to be in the very center of gayety."

"Yes," said Beatrice; "I have had enough solitude and quiet to last me for life. Ah, Lillian, this is all delightful. You think so, but do not admit it honestly as I do."

There was a faint, musical laugh, and then the sweet voice resumed:

"I am charmed, Lillian, with this London life; this is worth calling life--every moment is a golden one. If there is a drawback, it consists in not being able to speak one's mind."

"What do you mean?" asked Lillian.

"Do you not understand?" was the reply. "Lady Helena is always talking to me about cultivating what she calls 'elegant repose.' Poor, dear grandmamma! Her perfect idea of good manners seems to me to be a simple absence--in society, at least--of all emotion and all feeling. I, for one, do not admire the nil admirari system."

"I am sure Lady Helena admires you, Bee," said her sister.

"Yes," was the careless reply. "Only imagine, Lillian, yesterday, when Lady Cairn told me some story about a favorite young friend of hers the tears came to my eyes. I could not help it, although the drawing room was full. Lady Helena told me I should repress all outward emotion. Soon after, when Lord Dolchester told me a ridiculous story about Lady Everton, I laughed--heartily, I must confess, though not loudly--and she looked at me. I shall never accomplish 'elegant repose.'"

"You would not be half so charming if you did," replied her sister.

"Then it is so tempting to say at times what one really thinks! I can not resist it. When Lady Everton tells me, with that tiresome simper of hers, that she really wonders at herself, I long to tell her other people do the same thing. I should enjoy, for once, the luxury of telling Mrs. St. John that people flatter her, and then laugh at her affectation. It is a luxury to speak the truth at all times, is it not, Lily? I detest everything false, even a false word; therefore I fear Lady Helena will never quite approve of my manner."

"You are so frank and fearless! At the Elms, do you remember how every one seemed to feel that you would say just the right thing at the right time?" asked Lillian.

"Do not mention that place," replied Beatrice; "this life is so different. I like it so much, Lily--all the brightness and gayety. I feel good and contented now. I was always restless and longing for life; now I have all I wish for."

There was a pause then, and Lord Airlie longed to see who the speakers were--who the girl was that spoke such frank, bright words--that loved truth, and hated all things false--what kind of face accompanied that voice. Suddenly the young earl remembered that he was listening, and he started in horror from his seat. He pushed aside the clustering roses. At first he saw nothing but the golden blossoms of a drooping laburnum; then, a little further on, he saw a fair head bending over some fragrant flowers; then a face so beautiful, so perfect, that something like a cry of surprise came from Lord Airlie's lips.

He had seen many beauties, but nothing like this queenly young girl. Her dark, bright eyes were full of fire and light; the long lashes swept her cheek, the proud, beautiful lips, so haughty in repose, so sweet when smiling, were perfect in shape. From the noble brow a waving mass of dark hair rippled over a white neck and shapely shoulders. It was a face to think and dream of, peerless in its vivid, exquisite coloring and charmingly molded features. He hardly noticed the fair-haired girl.

"Who can she be?" thought Lord Airlie. "I believed that I had seen every beautiful woman in London."

Satisfied with having seen what kind of face accompanied the voice, the young earl left the pretty rose thicket. His friends must have thought him slightly deranged. He went about asking every one, "Who is here today?" Among others, he saluted Lord Dolchester with that question.

"I can scarcely tell you," replied his lordship. "I am somewhat in a puzzle. If you want to know who is the queen of the fete, I can tell you. It is Lord Earle's daughter, Miss Beatrice Earle. She is over there, see with Lady Downham."

Looking in the direction indicated, Lord Airlee saw the face that haunted him.

"Yes," said Lord Dolchester, with a gay laugh; "and if I were young and unfettered, she would not be Miss Earle much longer."


Chapter XXIV


Lord Airlie gazed long and earnestly at the beautiful girl who looked so utterly unconscious of the admiration she excited.

"I must ask Lady Downham to introduce me," he said to himself, wondering whether the proud face would smile upon him, and, if she carried into practice her favorite theory of saying what she thought, what she would say to him.

Lady Downham smiled when the young earl made his request.

"I have been besieged by gentlemen requesting introductions to Miss Earle," she said. "Contrary to your general rule, Lord Airlie, you go with the crowd."

He would have gone anywhere for one word from those perfect lips. Lady Downham led him to the spot where Beatrice stood, and in a few courteous words introduced him to her.

Lord Airlie was celebrated for his amiable, pleasing manner. He always knew what to say and how to say it, but when those magnificent eyes looked into his own, the young earl stood silent and abashed. In vain he tried confusedly to utter a few words; his face flushed, and Beatrice looked at him in wonder.--Could this man gazing so ardently at her be the impenetrable Lord Airlie?

He managed at length to say something about the beauty of the grounds and the brightness of the day. Plainly as eyes could speak, hers asked: Had he nothing to say?

He lingered by her side, charmed and fascinated by her grace; she talked to Lillian and to Lady Helena; she received the homage offered to her so unconscious of his presence and his regard that Lord Airlie was piqued. He was not accustomed to being overlooked.

"Do you never grow tired of flowers and fetes, Miss Earle?" he asked at length.

"No," replied Beatrice, "I could never grow tired of flowers--who could? As for fetes, I have seen few, and have liked each one better than the last."

"Perhaps your life has not been, like mine, spent among them," he said.

"I have lived among flowers," she replied, "but not among fetes; they have all the charm of novelty for me."

"I should like to enjoy them as you do," he said. "I wish you would teach me, Miss Earle."

She laughed gayly, and the sound of that laugh, like a sweet, silvery chime, charmed Lord Airlie still more.

He found out the prettiest pleasure boat, and persuaded Beatrice to let him row her across the lake. He gathered a beautiful water lily for her. When they landed, he found out a seat in the prettiest spot and placed her there.

Her simple, gay manner delighted him. He had never met any one like her. She did not blush, or look conscious, or receive his attentions with the half-fluttered sentimental air common to most young ladies of his acquaintance.

She never appeared to remember that he was Lord Airlie, nor sought by any artifice to keep him near her. The bright, sunny hours seemed to pass rapidly as a dream. Long before the day ended, the young earl said to himself that he had met his fate; that if it took years to win her he would count them well spent that in all the wide world she was the wife for him.

Lord Earle was somewhat amused by the solicitude the young nobleman showed in making his acquaintance and consulting his tastes. After Lady Downham's fete he called regularly at the house. Lady Helena liked him, but could hardly decide which of her grandchildren it was that attracted him.

The fastidious young earl, who had smiled at the idea of love and had disappointed half the fashionable mothers in Belgravia, found himself a victim at last.

He was diffident of his own powers, hardly daring to hope that he should succeed in winning the most beautiful and gifted girl in London. He was timid in her presence, and took refuge with Lillian.

All fashionable London was taken by surprise when Lord Airlie threw open his magnificent house, and, under the gracious auspices of his aunt, Lady Lecomte, issued invitations for a grand ball.

Many were the conjectures, and great was the excitement. Lord Earle smiled as he showed Lady Helena the cards of invitation.

"Of course you will go," he said. "We have no engagement for that day. See that the girls look their best, mother."

He felt very proud of his daughters--Lillian, looking so fair and sweet in her white silk dress and favorite pearls! Beatrice, like a queen, in a cloud of white lace, with coquettish dashes of crimson. The Earle diamonds shone in her dark hair, clasped the fair white throat, and encircled the beautiful arms. A magnificent pomegranate blossom lay in the bodice of her dress, and she carried a bouquet of white lilies mixed with scarlet verbena.

The excitement as to the ball had been great. It seemed like a step in the right direction at last. The great question was, with whom would Lord Airlie open the ball? Every girl was on the qui vive.

The question was soon decided. When Beatrice Earle entered the room, Lord Airlie went straight to meet her and solicited her hand for the first dance. She did not know how much was meant by that one action.

He wondered, as he looked upon her, the queen of the most brilliant ball of the season, whether she would ever love him if it was within the bounds of possibility that she should ever care for him. That evening, for the first time, he touched the proud heart of Beatrice Earle. On all sides she had heard nothing but praises