CHAPTER XII.
"Lake Leman woos me with its crystal face, The mirror where the stars and mountains view The stillness of their aspect in each trace Its clear depth yields of their far height and hue." _Childe Harold._
"And can you rend, by doubting still, A heart so much your own?"--_Moore._
"What a delightful evening this is!" said Lady Arranmore to EllenRavensworth, as their boat, whose wing-like sails not a breath filled,was rowed slowly up clear Leman by the measured splash of the oars, overwhich bent two stout Switzers. "How exquisite is every tint of mountain,lake, and cloud! it was surely on a sister evening to this that LordByron penned those beautiful lines in Childe Harold? Listen, MissRavensworth," continued the young Marchioness, as she opened ahandsomely bound pocket edition of that poem, and in a sweet clear voiceread the following stanza:--
"It is the hush of night, and all between Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear, Mellowed and mingling, yet distinctly seen, Save darkened Jura, whose capt heights appear Precipitously steep; and drawing near, There breathes a living fragrance, from the shore, Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more." _Childe Harold_, Canto iii., Stanza lxxxvi.
Ellen listened abstractedly without reply, as if her mind was too filledwith beauty to speak, and preferred silent adoration. The slightfelucca-like craft, in which our young friends glided over the glassysurface of the dark-blue lake, was now some miles from Geneva, whosewhite palaces rose clearly above the waters, and were doubled inapparent height by their perfect reflection below. To the left frownedthe black chain of Jura, and on the right beyond the Saleve--dear toEllen from its wonderful resemblance to the Salisbury crags of modernAthens--rose, cloud-like, "the monarch of mountains," throned high abovethe many aiguilles that stood like courtiers around their king. Thesummits of these Alps were distinctly reflected in the indigo depthsbeneath their boat, though a distance of fifty miles severed theadmirers from their mirror.
The sun had already set, the evening star shone silvery over the westglowing with the lingering daylight; the valleys lay already robed ingloom; the lake shadowed; but the far heights of Mont Blanc still showedsunny peaks, and presented a strange contrast to "darkened Jura." Not azephyr was awake--not a flaw disturbed the serenity of the waters,broken only by the dip of the oar which, as it touched the dark surface,made the waters flash with a blue light inconceivable to those who havenever viewed this lake. The useless sails of the picturesque littlecraft resembled the wings of a sea-gull, or some other bird, calmlysuspended a moment ere closed to rest. Towards the upper end of the lakethe Alps descending rise more perpendicularly from the surface, andlooked like grim sentinels watching over a fairy fountain. As the lakeis crescent-shaped this part was of course hidden; but from behind theslight eminence that sloped down to the right bank, the sails of asimilar craft were visible, and from them the clear notes of the silverbugle, mellowed into softness by the distance, rose with anindescribable sweetness, and died away in soft decay along the tranquilwaters. There is something peculiarly delicious in music on the waters,and as the strains rose or fell in softest cadence our heroine listenedwith an earnestness as if it was the minstrelsy of angels. The musicianwas probably English if we might judge by the song he selected:--"Thereis no place like Home." Whilst it lasted the very boatmen, as if loathto lose one note, bent over their suspended oars, and the young friendslooked at each other but spoke not. At last the dying fall grew fainterand fainter, till it entirely ceased, but was once more taken up andechoed among the vocal hills ere silence again brooded.
"Ah, how true that is, Lady Arranmore," said Ellen; "is it not?Beautiful as this land is, it is not home; and whilst our lips may saythere is no scene like this in the land of our birth, yet our heartbelies our words, and whispers, 'There is no place like home.'"
"True, Miss Ravensworth; yet you must remember we are here for our ownpleasure, we are not like the exile, or the emigrant, unable toreturn;--we can hasten back when we please, and find the smiles offriends all the brighter after a slight absence. I fear you are unhappy,and look on the shady instead of the sunny side of life, and bend youreye rather toward yonder dark-browed Jura, than to the sunlit crest ofMont Blanc."
"And yet, Lady Arranmore, how cold is that peak of snow!--rosy though itbe it only reflects the light and warmth it cannot feel. I havesometimes thought my heart was like that snowy height; in all perhapsexcept the imperishable pureness of its tint. To my mind there issomething melancholy, almost distressing, in an evening like this; thelast loveliness, the dying glory which lingers a few moments eredarkness lowers. It seems to tell us not to trust the smile of fortune,but to recollect how a night, whose darkness passeth not away, comesafter."
"Now, on the contrary, I look on the evening as a pledge of a brightermorrow, and as I view the sinking sun I think how he will rise againmore gloriously."
"Perhaps you take the right view; but what can you know of sorrow, LadyArranmore? wedded to the man you love, gifted with all the blessings oflife, the world as it were at your feet, beauty, rank, youth, health,and riches all yours; your cup is surely full?"
"And in what do you differ, Miss Ravensworth? are you not alsobeautiful, more beautiful than I am, at least I know one who thinks so;if you are not so rich, if you own not so proud a name, it only remainsfor you to court and gain them; and remember to be rich is not to behappy, to be great is not to be joyful."
"And know you not that it is in the heart, and nowhere else thathappiness must be found in order to enjoy life? if the heart is sad,what shall make its bearer smile?"
"Then it is some cross in love, some blighted affection that makes youso melancholy, so unlike the Ellen I met last Christmas? Tell me yourwoe as a friend, let me sympathize with your grief. It is not good tobear it alone. Come, Miss Ravensworth,--come, Ellen, let me so callyou,--tell me as you would tell your friend."
For some moments Ellen was silent--the hour had come at last--could sheonly summon courage and unburden her heart, could she make a confidanteof the sister of him she loved?
"No!" she exclaimed, at last. "No, dear Lady Arranmore, do not think meunfriendly, but it may not be; let me bear my cross alone; One farhigher than I will support me--why should I not?"
"Nay, Ellen," said the Marchioness, deeply interested in her youngfriend. "Nay, you mistake, even He confided His sorrows to Hisdisciples."
"If you love me, Lady Arranmore, desist; if you knew how every wordpierces my heart like an arrow, you would not speak so! Let us changethe subject; tell me about Naples, and the blue Mediterranean; tell me,"she continued, mastering her feelings, "when the second happy event isto take place; when the Earl, your brother's marriage with Lady Alice isto be celebrated?"
Though she strove to ask this question in a careless manner, as thoughit concerned her not, her voice so quivered and faltered towards the endof the sentence, that Lady Arranmore rather guessed than heard theconcluding words.
"My brother's marriage--what do you mean, dear? why, this is news tome."
"Gracious heavens!" exclaimed Ellen, with a start; "do not pretendignorance, his marriage with--with Lady Alice Claremont."
"My goodness, Ellen! Wentworth marry Lady Alice! Do you not know Alice'sage? why she is barely fourteen years old. Then you too saw that absurdparagraph, and did you not see its refutation? But what is the matter?Are you ill?"
There was reason for the Marchioness's question; pale as alabaster Ellenclasped together her hands, and looking to the sky faltered:
"I thank thee, my God! I thank thee,--then it was untrue; he may befaithful still; how could I doubt him?" and apparently overcome with theintenseness of her feelings she sank back on the seat exhausted.
"What is untrue?--who may be faithful still?--whom did you doubt?" werethe lady's hurried questio
ns. "This is a riddle, Ellen--tell me what itall means? Do, dearest, do.--There, is not that pleasant?" pouring someEau-de-Cologne on her broidered kerchief which she held to Ellen as arestorative,--"you feel better now? Ah, your colour is comingback--don't be in a hurry, but tell me as you can what all thismeans,--hide nothing."
After a few minutes, Ellen was sufficiently recovered to relate thewhole history of her attachment to Lord Wentworth,--how he had given herthe ring inscribed with the words "Hope on," and how, reading the fatalparagraph, and fancying him false, had so wrought on her mind as tobring on the dreadful fever, from whose ravages she was not yet whollyrecovered.
"This passes fiction,--this is the romance of true, real life," said theMarchioness, stooping down and kissing her friend--"and he did give youthe ring which so wonderfully snapt?"
"He did, he did!" exclaimed Ellen--"and here it is," drawing out a smallpacket, and giving it to Lady Arranmore.
"Then be sure my brother is too noble to raise hopes only to quenchthem,--and I admire his choice in choosing you, my own dear, beautifulEllen! and let it be my task to have this little ring re-united. Give itme, Ellen, till it is again fit to circle your finger. But, Ellen,whilst I now regard you as a sister, and bid you follow its invitationand 'Hope on,' let me caution you not to be too sanguine yet. I mean donot be impatient, dearest,"--for the Marchioness began to think she wasraising her friend's hopes too high, ere she was herself assured oftheir certainty;--"have patience, wait, and all will turn out right. Iknow Wentworth well; he will do nothing in a hurry; he will wait till heknows your character; and now all depends on you; at least, Ellen, hewill now know he has a faithful love! But what puzzles me not a little,is how the denial of that foolish report, which no one can guess theorigin of, did not reach you, and how the kind letters of inquiry mybrother sent, did not reassure you? I thought then he certainlystretched a point in polite solicitude; now I know the reason why."
Our readers must not be ignorant of the answers to these naturalquestions of Lady Arranmore. In the first place it was a diabolic plotof the Captain's to insert the fatal paragraph, and when he saw how wellit took effect, his next concern was to prevent the paper containing itsrefutation from reaching Mr. Ravensworth. However, in the confusionoccasioned by Ellen's illness, all sight of papers would have been lost,even if the postman had not been bribed to withhold that journal. Hadthey dared they would also have intercepted the Earl's letters to herfather, but these he received, though he forbore showing them to Ellenfor fear he should again raise false hopes, and as he regarded them onlyas the offspring of a polite and friendly nature, he feared he wouldonly again tear open a healing wound if he showed them.
"Oh, Lady Arranmore--dearest Edith, as you ask me now to call you," saidEllen, as their boat neared Geneva and the Isle de Jean JacquesRousseau, "how happy I feel! I feel so bright now, like yonder heightstill lingering in sunshine, whilst darkness wraps the whole face ofnature! How different are the feelings with which I stepped into thisboat, and those with which I step out again!"
"Be assured I rejoice with your joy, but remember, Ellen, be patient andtranquil; I will write to Wentworth this very evening, and we shall havehis answer before we leave for Paris."
The two friends agreed to keep their secret till the answer arrived,which came on the very day they were to start. Lord Wentworth said muchto his sister which of course Ellen did not hear, but she did hear thathe sent fondest love to her, and this dispelled the last shadow of doubtfrom her mind. Mr. Ravensworth was astonished by the wonderful changefor the better in Ellen's looks, which he falsely attributed to thechange of air, delightful weather, and charming scenery she had foundabroad; but in reality the very happy news did more for her in a fewdays than all the tours or doctors living could have done in as manymonths, and she became the same merry-hearted girl she was, full of goodspirits to a degree her father could not understand, till he becamesharer too of the glad tidings, which made him rejoice with all thefulness of a father's love. Lord and Lady Arranmore were also on theirhomeward way, and it was determined they should travel in company as faras Paris. The Marquis was in fact beginning to sigh for home comforts,and professed himself sick of the acid French wines; so he was not sorryto find himself in his own comfortable carriage bowling northwards. Mr.Ravensworth and Ellen travelled behind in their post carriage; and veryoften the stout Marquis was turned out of his nest, to make room forEllen, by Edith, whilst he had to content himself with the morelumbering vehicle of the country in which Mr. Ravensworth travelled; andafter expending his wrath by cursing the jolting carriage and springs,generally made himself very comfortable with hock or champagne, for, weare grieved to say, wine was the Marquis' delight, and drinking hisbesetting sin! At Paris, the friends parted with the near prospect of ahappy meeting ere long in Scotland, whither the noble couple were toproceed after a week at Paris, in order to pay their first visit at DunEdin Towers.
In ten days more, Ellen was welcomed back, after a long absence, by herbrother and sister, who received her home with rapturous joy, and werefull of the kindness shown them by the Earl since his return to theTowers.
"Do you know, Nelly, we have spent every Saturday there, and he so ofteninquired after you?" said Johnny.
Mr. Lennox was one of the earliest to welcome our heroine back, andcongratulate her on her improved health: he came avowedly to hear allabout her tour, but one would have rather thought he had come to boastof his "good luck," as he called it, in being asked to spend a week atthe Towers, where the Earl was about to entertain a select circle for ashort time. "Among which," said the proud man, "are my cousins on myfather's side, the Duke of Richmond and Lord George Lennox; and if Imistake not, Miss Ravensworth, both you and your father will also havethe distinguished honour of accompanying me thither."
The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 1 Page 12