The Old Countess; or, The Two Proposals. Ann S. Stephens

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СКАЧАТЬ the hope of sharing his life and his honors gave way, doubts, suspicions, and anxieties grew out of her inordinate love, and the greatest sorrow to her on earth was the absence of her husband. It was not alone that she missed his company, which was, in fact, all the world to her; but, as he went more and more into the world, a terrible dread seized upon her. What if he found, among all the highly born women who received him so graciously, some one who, in the brightness of a happy life, might make him regret the sacrifice he had made for her, the terrible scenes he had gone through in order to obtain her? What if he might yet come to wish her dead, as she sometimes almost wished herself!

      In this way the love, which had flowed like a lava stream through that woman's life, engendered its own curse, and her mind was continually haunted by apprehensions which had no foundation, in fact, for, to this day, Lord Hope loved her with deeper passion than he had ever given to that better woman; but with him the distractions of statesmanship, and the allurements of social life, were a resource from intense thought, while she had so little beside himself.

      She had striven to bind him to her by kindness to his child, until the bright girl became, as it were, a part of himself, with whom it would be death to part.

      Is it strange, then, that this dream of uniting Clara to her only brother should have been very sweet to the unhappy woman?

      Lord Hope had been absent a whole month now, and even with the excitement of her brother's presence, Rachael had found those four weeks terribly long.

      What would she do if that fair girl were separated from her entirely? Then solitude would be terrible indeed!

      But another anxiety came upon her by degrees. In what way would her husband receive Hepworth Closs? How would he accept the position the two persons out yonder were drifting into? Would he consent to a union which even her partiality admitted as unsuitable, or would he, in his cold, calm way, plant his foot upon their hearts and crush her fond desire out of existence?

      As Lady Hope pondered over these thoughts in silence and semi-darkness, Clara came through the window, in great excitement.

      "Oh! mamma Rachael! He is going away from us. He told me so just now; but you will not let him. You will never let him!"

      Lady Hope started out of her reverie.

      "Going away? Where? Who? I cannot understand, Clara!"

      "Hepworth—Mr. Closs, I mean. Oh, mamma! he threatens to leave us here all alone by ourselves—the most cruel thing that ever was heard of. I thought how angry you would be, and came at once. You can do anything with him—he loves you so dearly. Let him threaten if he likes, but you will not let him go. You will tell him how foolish, how cruel it is to leave us, while papa is away. Oh! mamma Rachael, you can do anything! Do this! Do this!"

      "But why, darling—why do you care so much?"

      "Why! why!" Clara threw back her head till the curls waved away from her shoulders, then a burning crimson came over her, the shamed face drooped again, and she answered: "I don't know—I don't know."

      Rachael bent her face till it almost touched that hot cheek, and whispered:

      "Is it that you love him, my own Clara?"

      Again Clara lifted her face. A strange light came upon it. Her lips were parted, her blue eyes opened wide.

      "Love him—love him? Oh! mamma Rachael, is this love?"

      Rachael smiled, and kissed that earnest face, holding it between both hands.

      "I think it is, darling. Nay, I am sure that you love him, and that he loves you."

      "Loves me? Then why does he go away? I should think so but for that."

      "Because of that, I am afraid, Clara."

      "Loves me, and goes away because he loves me!" said the girl, bewildered. "I don't understand it."

      "There may be many reasons, Clara."

      "I can't think of one. Indeed I can't. Papa never was cruel."

      "He may not think it quite honorable to let—make you love him, when your father knows nothing about it."

      "But papa would not mind."

      "Hepworth does not know that; nor do I. Your father is a very proud man, Clara, and has a right to look high, for his only child."

      "What then? Mr. Closs is handsomer, brighter, more—more everything that is grand and royal, than any nobleman I have ever seen. What can papa say against that?"

      "But he is a man of no family position—simply Hepworth Closs, nothing more. We can scarcely call him an Englishman."

      "What then, mamma? He is a gentleman. Who, in all this neighborhood, can compare with him?"

      "No one! no one!" answered Rachael, with enthusiasm. "There is but one man on all the earth so far above the rest; but persons who look upon birth and wealth as everything, may not see him with our eyes, my Clara. Then there is another objection. Hepworth is over thirty."

      "Mamma Rachael, you know well enough that I never did like boys," said Clara, with childish petulance.

      "And compared with the great landed noblemen of England, he is poor."

      "Not so, mamma Rachael. He has made lots and lots of money out in those countries where they dig gold from the earth. He described it all to me, about washing dirt in pans, and crushing rocks in great machines, and picking up pure gold in nuggets—why, he found an awful big one himself. I daresay he has got more real money than papa. I do, indeed."

      Lady Hope sighed. Perhaps she thought so too; for Oakhurst was closely entailed, and ready money was sometimes scarce in that sumptuous dwelling.

      "And then how much shall I have? Let me ask that of papa."

      "But you will inherit something with the Carset title in spite of your grandmother."

      "Yes, I know. An enormous old castle with just land enough to keep it in repair. That isn't much to boast of, or make a man like Mr. Closs feel modest when he thinks of me."

      "But the title. Is it nothing to be a peeress in your own right?"

      "I would rather he were an earl, and I a peeress in his right."

      "You are a strange girl, Clara."

      "But you love me if I am, mamma Rachael."

      "Love you, child! You will never know how much!"

      "And if it so happened that he did really like me, you wouldn't go against it?"

      "But what would my will be opposed to that of your father?"

      "Only this—you can do anything with papa. Don't I remember when I was a little girl?"

      Rachael sighed heavily.

      "That was a long time ago, Clara, and childish wants are easily satisfied."

      Clara threw both СКАЧАТЬ