if itwere a royal ball; getting couples ready for the dances that went on tothe strains of a string band in a very languid way, and finding placesfor elderly ladies at the card-tables, as opportunity served.
As soon as she could, Claire found a refuge by the side of Mrs Barclay;but her hand was much sought after by dancers brought up from time totime by her father, and every time she trembled lest one of thosepresent should offer himself as a partner.
But, though Major Rockley was there, and had spoken to her gravely once,and bowed on two other occasions as he passed her, he had made no otheradvance; and when Richard Linnell arrived he did not attempt to speak,but passed her arm-in-arm with Colonel Mellersh, bowing coldly, andgiving her one stern, severe look that made her draw her breath oncewith a catch, and then feel a glow of resentment.
Cora came and sat down once by her side, to be by turns loving andspiteful, as if her temper was not under command; but they were soonseparated, for Cora's hand was also much sought after for the variousdances.
The evening was less trying than Claire had anticipated. She had comeprepared to meet with several slights from the ladies present, but,somehow, the only one who openly treated her with discourtesy was LadyDrelincourt, who gave her the cut direct in a most offensive way, as shepassed on Morton Denville's arm.
That was the unkindest act of all, for the boy had seen her, and wasabout to nod and smile, forgetful in the elation produced by severalglasses of wine, of the cause of offence between them; but, taking hiscue from the lady on his arm, he drew himself up stiffly and passed on.
The tears rose to Claire's eyes, but she mastered her emotion, as shesaw Major Rockley on the other side of the room, keenly observant of allthat had passed; and to hide her grief she went on talking to thegentleman who had just solicited her hand for the next dance.
Richard Linnell passed her soon afterwards with Cora upon his arm, and ajealous pang shot through her; but it passed away, and she resignedherself to her position, as if she had suffered so many pangs of latethat her senses were growing blunted, and suffering was becoming easierto her.
Morton Denville was dismissed soon after in favour of Sir Matthew Bray;and, in his boy-like excitement, looked elated one moment as thehalf-fledged officer of dragoons, annoyed and self-conscious the next,as he kept seeing his father bowing and mincing about the rooms, orcaught sight of his sister, whom he shunned.
It was a miserable evening, he thought, and he wished he had not come.
Then he wondered whether he looked well, for he fancied that theAdjutant had smiled at him.
A minute later he was thinking that he was thoroughly enjoying himself,and this enjoyment he found in a glass of Mrs Pontardent's champagne.
The dancing went on; so did the flirting in the saloons and in thegarden, which was brilliant in front of the windows, deliciously darkand love-inspiring down the shady walks, for there the strains of theband came in a sweetly subdued murmur that the young officers declaredwas intoxicating, a charge that was misapplied.
The play grew higher as the night wore on, the conversation and laughterlouder, the dancing more spirited, and the party was at its height whenMrs Pontardent, in obedience to an oft-repeated look from MajorRockley, walked up to him slowly, and took his arm.
"My dear Major: what a look!" she said banteringly. "You met thehandsome youth, and you shot him. After that you ought to be friends,whereas I saw you exchange a look with poor Mr Linnell that was onlyexcelled by the one you gave Colonel Mellersh."
"Damn Colonel Mellersh!" said Rockley savagely.
"By all means," said the lady mockingly; "but not in my presence,please."
"Don't talk twaddle," exclaimed Rockley, as they passed out of thedrawing-room window and across the lawn.
It so happened that Cora Dean had been dancing with a handsome youngresident of the place, and, after the dance, he had begged her to take astroll with him out in the grounds.
"No, no," she said, amused by the impression made upon his susceptiblenature; "that means taking cold."
"I assure you, no," he exclaimed rather thickly. "It's warm anddelightful outside. Just one walk round."
She was about to decline, when she caught Richard Linnell's eyes fixedupon her and her companion, and, urged by a feeling of coquetry, and adesire to try and move him to speak to her, if it were only to reproach,she took the offered arm, and, throwing a lace scarf over her head,allowed her partner to lead where he would, and that was naturally downone of the darkest grass alleys of the grounds.
"Do you know, Miss Dean," he began thickly, "I never saw a girl in allmy life who--"
"Can we see the sea from the grounds here?" said Cora.
"Yes; lovely view," he said. "Down here;" and he led her farther fromthe house. "There, you can see the sea from here, but who would wish tosee the sea when he could gaze into the lovely eyes of the most--"
"Is not that an arbour?" said Cora, as they stood now in one of thedarkest parts of the garden.
"Yes. Let's sit down and have a talk, and--"
"Will you lead the way?" said Cora.
"Yes; give me your hand--eh--why--what dooce! She's given me the slip.Oh, 'pon my soul, I'll pay her for that."
He started back towards the house, passing close by Cora, who had merelystepped behind a laurustinus, and who now went in the other direction,along a grass path at the back of the lawn.
Her white satin slippers made not the slightest sound, and she was aboutto walk straight across the lawn and out into the light, when a low,deep murmur reached her ear, and she recognised the voice.
"Major Rockley," she said to herself. "Who is he with?"
Her jealous heart at once whispered "Claire!"
"If I could but bring Richard face to face with them now!" she thought,"he would turn to me after all."
She hesitated, for the thought of the act being dishonourable struckher; but in her mental state, and with her defective education, she wasnot disposed to yield to fine notions of social honour; and, with herheart beating fast, she hurried softly along the grass, to find herselfwell within hearing of the speakers.
The words she heard were not those of love, for they were uttered morein anger. It was at times quite a quarrel changing to the tone ofordinary conversation.
Cora glanced behind her, to see the brightly lit-up house and hear thestrains of music and the sounds of laughter and lively remark, while, bycontrast with the glow in that direction, the bushes amid which shestood and into which she peered seemed to be the more obscure.
There was a pause, and then a woman's voice said quickly:
"No, no; I cannot. You must not ask me, indeed."
A curious feeling of disappointment came over Cora, for her plan wascrushed on the instant. What were other people's love affairs to her?
She was turning away with disgust, when the deep voice of the Major saidquickly, and in a menacing way which rooted the listener to the spot:
"But I say you shall. One word from me, and you might have to leaveSaltinville for good. I mean for your own good."
"Oh, Rockley!"
"I don't care; you make me mad. Here have I done you endless littleservices, helped you to live in the style you do; and the first littlefavour I ask of you, I am met with a flat refusal."
"I don't like to refuse you, but the girl is--"
"Well, you know what the girl is. Hang it all, Pont, should I ask youif it were not as I say--unless it were that rich heiress I am to carryoff some day."
"And the sooner the better."
"Yes, yes; but time's going. It's now eleven, and I must strike whilethe iron's hot."
"But, Rockley--"
"More opposition? What the devil do you mean?"
"I don't like to be mixed up with such an affair."
"You will not be mixed up with it. No one will know but our twoselves."
"My conscience goes against such a trap."
"Your conscience!" he hissed angrily.
"Well, and do you
suppose I have none? The girl is too good. I likeher. It is a shame, Rockley."
Cora Dean's heart beat as if it would suffocate her, while her mouthfelt dry and her hands moist. She could hardly have moved to save herlife. She knew what it was, she felt sure. It was a plot againstClaire, and if it were--
Cora Dean did not finish her thought, but listened as Rockley spokeagain.
Volume Two, Chapter XXIV.
TOO LATE.
"How long has the fair Pontardent taken to the nursing up of scruples?"
"Do you suppose a woman is all evil?" was the retort. "You men make usbad enough, but you cannot kill all the good. I say it is a shame."
"A shame!" said Rockley derisively. "Ha, ha, ha! What
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