A Fair Mystery: The Story of a Coquette

"Then my partner left me, and I became engrossed in watching Captain Studleigh. Surely no one could be more popular; no one passed him without a word or a jest. I watched him as he bent over the white hands of fair ladies, and I was mad enough to feel something like jealousy when he seemed to like one. Then, by some accident, I can never remember how it happened, our eyes met. I saw him start, and I hoped he admired me.

"Ah, dear Heaven! what a foolish child I was! Then he went away hurriedly, and in a few minutes afterward he was bowing before me, while some one introduced him to me. The extreme bitterness of the pain has long since left me, and I can remember that when he asked me to dance with him, and my hand touched his arm, it was as though the happiness of my life had suddenly grown complete. Thinking of myself as I was then, tears of pity fill my eyes.

"It was a long dance, and when it ended Captain Studleigh did not seem more anxious to part from me than I was to part from him. The spell was beginning to work on me as it worked on others. His bright, laughing eyes, handsome face, rich, clear voice, the inexhaustible fund of wit and mirth, the tender, chivalrous deference that he knew so well how to pay, delighted me. He asked me if I should like to see a famous picture that had been recently sent to the palace. I said 'Yes,' glad of any pretext for being longer with him. I do not know how time passed. I was happier than I had ever been in my life before. Suddenly Captain Studleigh asked me, with a smile, where was my mother, the duchess. I told him she had been invited to join the royal circle, and was there now, I believed.

"'Fortune is kind to me to-night,' he said, with a smile.

"Simply enough I asked him why he should call my mother's preoccupation fortunate to him.

"He laughed outright.

"'My dear Lady Hereford,' he said, 'if her grace were at hand, do you suppose I should be allowed this delightful half hour here with you?'

"'Why not?' I asked, wonderingly.

"'Because I am what is called a detrimental. I am a poor younger son, whose presumption, as the dowagers say, is frightful. Have I any right, possessing under ten thousand a year and no title, to monopolize, even for five minutes, the smiles of Lady Estelle Hereford?'

"I knew that he was speaking satirically, but it struck me, at the same time, that his views and mine would upon many points agree.

"'What nonsense about being a poor younger son,' I said. 'What difference does it make?'

"He laughed again.

"'That is the most sensible question I ever heard, Lady Hereford, and as a younger son I thank you for it. It makes a wonderful difference in the opinion of most people.'

"'It makes none in mine,' I said, decidedly; and then I saw him look steadfastly at me. I never even gave a thought to the significance of my words. Suddenly I remembered the conversation I had had about him. I looked up into his face.

"'Captain Studleigh,' I asked, 'why do people call you faithless and debonair?'

"'Do they?' he asked. 'I do not think that such a bad character, Lady Estelle.'

"'Is it true that all the Studleighs are faithless?' I repeated.

"'I wish I dared say, try one of them, Lady Estelle. That may be the tradition of the family, but it would be cruel to judge every member by it. After all, it is something to be debonair, so I must be content.'

"Looking at him and listening to him, I did not believe one word of it. There was a charm about him that no words of mine could possibly describe – a charm that I believe, even now, belongs to no one else on earth. I soon found that what he said was perfectly true. As I returned to the ball-room I saw my mother looking for us. Her eyes did not fall with a very pleased expression on Captain Studleigh. She came up to us and made some little observation to him; the tone of it was barely civil, and he was quick enough to notice it. He gave me one laughing glance, as though he would say, 'You see, I told you I was a detrimental,' then he bowed and went away.

"'My dear Estelle,' she said, 'have you been long with Captain Studleigh?'

"I told her how long, and she looked displeased.

"'Who introduced you to him?'" she asked.

"Ah! how ashamed I was. I could not remember; I had never even noticed. She turned to me.

"'It was a mistake,' she said, gently. 'He is a handsome man, but the Studleighs are all alike. I should not wish you to fall into the habit of wasting your time with him.'

"'Wasting my time.' I repeated that phrase over and over again. The only gleam of happiness I had found in this great world was looked coldly upon by my mother, and called 'wasting my time.'

"I went home with my head and heart full of him, longing only for the hour to come when I should meet him again. Looking back, I pity myself, Earle Moray – I pity myself!"

CHAPTER XXXVII

"HE MADE ME BELIEVE THAT I WAS THE WHOLE WORLD TO HIM!"

"Do I weary you, Earle Moray, with these details?" Lady Estelle asked, looking with wistful eyes into his face. "Out of my thirty-eight years, that was my only gleam of light – does it weary you that I like to dwell upon it?"

"No," he replied, "every word interests me; you cannot tell one too much."

"I used to wonder," she continued, "when I heard people say that love made or marred a woman's life. In my own mind I thought such words an exaggeration. I found that they were most fatally true – my love marred my life.

"That night I left the palace, with my heart and mind full of Ulric Studleigh, and the idea possessed a double charm for me because I was, as it were, forbidden to entertain it. The duchess, my mother spoke to me once more on the subject. We were going to a fete at Kensington Gardens. Before we started she called me to her.

"'Estelle,' she said, gravely, 'I hope you will not forget what is due to your position as daughter of the Duke of Downsbury. I hope you will not forget what is required and expected of you.'

"I told her that I hoped always to please her, and I intended then to do so.

"'If Captain Studleigh should have the bad taste to intrude his society on you,' she continued, 'without being the least unladylike, you must let him see that it is displeasing to you.'

"'But, mamma,' I remonstrated, 'it is not displeasing; it is most amusing.'

"'The expression of my least wish ought to suffice, Estelle,' said my mother, haughtily. 'I tell you to avoid Captain Studleigh whenever you possibly can; and if you are compelled for a few minutes, by unavoidable circumstances, to talk to him, I insist upon it that you show no interest whatever – that you treat him with studied coolness and reserve.'

"'Will you tell me why, mamma?' I asked gently.

"'Yes, I will tell you. The love of a Studleigh never yet brought anything with it save sorrow. Secondly, were it even otherwise, Ulric Studleigh, a younger son, is no match for my daughter, Lady Estelle Hereford. You hear this?'

"I had heard, and at first my only emotion was one of sorrow that a pleasant intercourse must be ended. It was very evident that I must not look again at the laughing face and tender eyes. I hardly understood the cloud that came over me, or why the thought that he was so soon to be taken out of my life darkened it.

"He was at the fete, strange to say, with my only and dearest friend, Lady Agnes Delapain. We had been schoolmates, and the year previous she had married Lord Delapain. I felt pleased when I saw him with her. My mother did not see either of them. After a time Lady Agnes left her companion and came to me. My mother, who knew our great affection for each other, had no scruple in leaving us together while she joined some friends of her own.

"'Estelle,' said Lady Agnes, as we wandered through a beautiful grove of trees – 'Estelle, you have accomplished a miracle.'

"'What have I done?' I asked.

"'You have written your name where no one ever inscribed a woman's name before,' she replied.

"I had not the least idea what she meant.

"'Where is that?' I asked.

"Lady Agnes laughed aloud.

"'On the hitherto invincible heart of Ulric Studleigh,' she said. 'I should imagine that he has admired more pretty girls than any one ever did before, but you are the first who has made a real impression on him.'

"'Who says I have done so, Agnes?'

"'I say so. He has been sitting by me for half an hour, and all his conversation has been of you. I assure you, Estelle, he is hopelessly in love.'

"'The love of the Studleighs always brings sorrow, my mother says.'

"Lady Agnes laughed again.

"'I am sure your mother will not like him – no mothers do. Mine used to torture me about him before I was married. You would not find a dowager in London who approves of him.'

"'But why?' I persisted.

"'A handsome, graceless, penniless younger son? What dowager in her senses would approve of such a man?'

"'He cannot help being a younger son and having no money,' I said.

"'No; he cannot help it. A man cannot help being born blind or lame, I suppose; but then he does not expect to fare the same as a man who can walk and see.'

"'It is not a just world,' I said gravely; and again Lady Agnes laughed.

"'Yes, Ulric ought at least to have been a prince,' she said; 'there is now only one resource for him.'

"'What is that?' I asked.

"'He has no money, and he cannot make money. Military fame is very empty; but he could, at least, marry some one who has money.'

"And Lady Agnes, who, I believe, had a decided liking for him, looked sharply at me.

"'Why can he never make money?' I asked.

"'It is not the habit of the Studleighs: they have a reckless fashion of spending, but I do not know that they are capable of making money. Captain Ulric is a soldier, and we all know how empty is fame.'

"At that very moment he joined us. Lady Agnes turned to me.

"'I leave you in safe hands,' she said. 'I promised to look after little Nellie Plumpton, and I have not seen her yet.'

"Then she went away. It was kind of her in one sense, but wrong in another. I was terribly frightened. What should I do if my mother found me here in this grove of trees with Captain Studleigh? I remembered, too, that I had promised to be very distant and reserved with him: yet there I was, looking at him, blushing and smiling, utterly unable either to look or feel anything save happy.

"He saw, and was quick enough to detect the anxiety on my face.

"'Ah! Lady Hereford,' he said. 'I was a true prophet – I see it.'

"Then, without waiting for any answer, he began to talk to me about the fete. I forgot everything else in the wide, world except that I was happy and was with him.

"Earle Moray, the sun will never shine for me again as it did that day; the sky will never be so blue, the flowers so sweet and fair.

"When he saw Lady Agnes returning to us in the distance, he said, quickly:

"'You will not be unjust to me, Lady Estelle – you will not visit the sins of my race on me?'

"'No,' I said, 'I will never do that.'

"'Sometimes you will let me forget graver anxieties, graver cares, the troubles of my life, in talking to you?'

"Then I saw my difficulty.

"'I will do all that I possibly can,' I said; 'but – '

"'But what?' he asked. 'Tell me the difficulty.'

"How could I? I could not look into his face, and tell him my mother disliked and disapproved of him.

"'I think I understand,' he said, with a low laugh. 'If I were a duke, with two or three fine estates, there would be no objection to me; as it is, perhaps her grace has told you the Studleighs are unfortunate?'

"'Yes, she has told me so, but I do not believe it,' I hastened to reply.

"'Thank you; you are generous. I shall trust in your generosity, Lady Hereford.'

"Then he went away, and the brightness of the sun, the sky, the flowers, went with him. Yet I was strangely happy, with a new, strange, shy happiness. When other people, whom I had neither liked nor cared for, talked to me, I found that I had a fresh stock of patience – that I had such a fountain of happiness in my own heart I had abundance to shower upon others. The whole world changed to me from that day. I lived only in the hope of seeing Captain Studleigh. I counted the hours when I was away from him. Unfortunately for me, I found an aider and abettor in Lady Agnes Delapain. My mother did not even know that she was acquainted with him, and I – alas! – never told her.

"Lady Agnes had a beautiful villa at Twickenham, and it was no unusual thing for me to spend two or three days with her. It was cruel to betray my mother's trust; there is no excuse for it, nor was there any for my friend. We never made any positive appointment. I never told him when I was going to Twickenham, yet he always seemed to know by instinct. Lord Delapain held some important office under the government, so that he was seldom at home. We three, Lady Delapain, Captain Studleigh, and myself, spent whole days together, sometimes in the grounds that surrounded her home, or on the river which ran close by.

"The end of it was – see, I offer no excuse – that we both believed it impossible to live any longer without each other. Oh! folly and blindness and madness of love! I, who had never disobeyed my parents, who had always been a docile, obedient child, whose highest ambition had been to please them. I suffered him, my lover, to talk to me about a private marriage! He said that if we were once married, my parents would be very angry for a short time, that was certain: but when they saw there was no help for it, they would forgive us and all would be well again. I asked, timidly enough, for I dreaded to displease him, if it would not be better for him to try to win my parents' consent.

"'I will try, if you like,' he said. 'I will do anything to please you: but I am quite sure it is useless. The moment they hear that I care for you they will take you away, and I shall see you no more.'

"'Do you really think so, Ulric?' I asked, sadly.

"'I am quite certain of it: still it shall be as you wish. I cannot live without you, Estelle. You are the whole world to me; and you love me, unless the story told by those sweet eyes is untrue.'

"Lady Agnes knew nothing of these longing entreaties of his for a secret marriage. If I had told her I might have been saved. She, with all her imprudence, would never have permitted that. I dared not tell her, lest she should disapprove.

"Looking back, I cannot tell what possessed me – what mad infatuation, what wild folly had taken hold of me. Is it the same, I wonder, with all those who love – with all girls who surrender heart and judgment as I did? Yet I did not reply all at once. The step was such a grave and serious one, even to my inexperienced eyes, that I hesitated long before taking it. I must do him justice; I think that in those days Ulric Studleigh did love me very dearly indeed, better, perhaps, than he loved any one else; and that, for a Studleigh, is certainly saying great deal. He told me, over and over again, in most passionate words, that he loved me. He made me believe that I was the whole world to him. Then, when he still found that I was unwilling – oh! so unwilling – for this private marriage, he pretended to be hurt, to think that I did not care for him; and for ten long days he never came near me – ten long, dreary, terrible days. I can remember even now the misery of each of them – the hours that seemed to have no end – the nights without sleep. If we met in public, he passed me with a cold bow, and devoted himself to some one else. I went through all the tortures of jealousy, my face grew pale and thin. Ah! what I suffered! Then one evening he came to me and said:

"'Estelle, have we had enough of this? I feel I can bear it no longer.'

"'It is your fault,' I replied; 'you have kept away from me.'

"'Is a man's heart made of wax, do you think? Kept away from you! If I had not done so I should have gone mad. Your love must be child's play, judging from the way in which you treat me. How could I bear to be near you, when you so coldly refused my prayer?'

"We were standing behind a great cluster of trees, and the next moment he had clasped me in his arms, crying that I must be his.

"'I shall be at Twickenham to-morrow,' he said; 'Estelle, I pray you to meet me there.'

"And I, weak and miserable, promised him."

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE PUNISHMENT OF FOLLY

"'I cannot bear it,' said my lover to me," continued Lady Estelle, "when we met the next day on the green lawn at Twickenham. 'We Studleighs are just as mad in jealousy as we are in love. When I see you surrounded by the wealthiest and noblest in the land – men each of whom is more worthy of you a thousand times than I am – but no one else loves you one-half so well, I can bear it no longer, Estelle. I will stand by no longer to see you loved, admired, and sought by other men. I will go away, and never return to this hateful land again.'

"'What can I do, Ulric?' I asked. 'I cannot help it – I do not ask people to admire me.'

"'You can do one thing, if you will,' he said; 'you can set my heart at rest; you can consent to what I ask – a private marriage; that will make you mine, and it will not be in the power of any human being to take you from me. It will set my heart at rest, and I shall know, no matter who admires you, that you are mine. If you will not consent to this, I must go.'

"I was sorely afraid to lose him, Earle Moray.

"'But what will become of me when my parents find it out?' I asked.

"'They need never find it out. When they seem to like me a little better, we will tell them. No one knows what an excellent thing it is to make one's self master of the situation. Once done, we cannot be expected to undo it, and after a few days they will say that we were naughty; but they will forgive us when they are quite sure that being angry is of no use.'

"Those were weak arguments, Earle Moray, to lead a girl away from her duty. They seem to me so now, though then I fancied them full of wisest sense. I destroyed myself when I looked up into his face, and said;

"'But even if I were willing, how could it be managed, Ulric?'

"He clasped me in his arms.

"'Only say that you are willing, that is enough. I shall go mad with joy! Estelle, say that you are willing, and leave the preliminaries to me.'

"He looked so eager, so handsome; I was so weak and young. I loved him so dearly, all higher and better considerations faded away – I promised."

She buried her face in her hands, and Earle saw the tears fall through her slender, jeweled fingers. He saw the fragile figure torn with deep, convulsive sobs, yet he did not dare comfort her. He fell that, for such a wrong as she had committed, there could be no pardon from those she had deceived. Yet his feeling of compassion for her was so strong that he could not refrain from showing her some sympathy. He laid his hand gently on her arm.

"Dear Lady Hereford," he said, "I wish that I knew how to comfort you."

"You cannot," she replied; "there can be no consolation for sins like mine. Oh! Earle Moray, you see that I am speaking to you as though I had known you for years. It is because you love Doris. Can you think, can you imagine how I came to be so foolish? – so mad, it seems to me, looking back on my past. Incredible! Young, gifted, with everything to make life desirable, that I should wreck myself, turn every blessing into a curse! It is incredible to me, I cannot believe it; yet I have done it. I need not tire you with details. I have dwelt longer than I need have done on my temptations, because I want you, who love Doris so dearly, to think the best which is possible of me. Do you agree to that? Will you try?"

"Most certainly I will, dear Lady Hereford. Who am I, that I should sit in judgment over you?"

"I am ashamed to tell you the rest," she said, in a wailing tone. "It is a story that would disgrace the humblest beggar – think how it humiliates me, the sole daughter of one of the proudest houses in the land. No Studleigh ever failed for want of determination. The more and the greater the obstacles that rose in my lover's way, the more valiantly he overcame them. I am too ignorant even to explain how he arranged it – everything gives way to money, I suppose – the obstacles he encountered did. I only know two things for certain – we were married, and our marriage was legal."

"It seems almost incredible," said Earle, "for one so highly placed, so constantly guarded as you must have been, Lady Hereford."

"It was difficult; but I will confess my own duplicity. I told my mother that I was going to spend two days with Lady Agnes, and I went accompanied by my maid. It was a very easy matter, on the morning of the second day, to escape from Lady Agnes, under some slight pretext, and meet Captain Studleigh. We were married in some old gray church by the river; and when I returned to Twickenham I did not even dare to tell my best friend. Yet I remember so well the almost delicious happiness – perhaps all the sweeter that it was kept so silent – the happiness of knowing that I had proved to my husband how dearly I loved him; the happiness of knowing how great were the sacrifices I made for him. Ah, surely he would be content now, when for his sake I made myself a living lie – I wore a mask that hid me from the parents who loved me – surely he would be satisfied now! I dared not tell Lady Delapain what I had done. Imprudent as she was, she would never have countenanced that.

"For some weeks we were happy. My whole life became one intrigue, arranging how to meet my husband, and how much time it was possible to spend with him without being found out. Security made me reckless. Whenever I met him I used to deceive my mother by telling her I had been with Lady Agnes. One evening, when we were going to some great state entertainment, I remained with him later than I should have done – time had flown so quickly I had not measured its flight – and I was late for dressing. The duchess was not well pleased, although she did not say much; but a few days afterward Lady Agnes called and wanted me to go out with her. My mother said 'Yes,' but added, that I must be more careful, as I had been too late on Tuesday.'

"'But Lady Estelle was not with me on Tuesday,' said Lady Agnes, quickly. And my mother looked at her in deepest wonder.

"'Not with you!' she cried. 'Where was she, then?'

"I turned to my friend, and she alone saw the hot flush on my face.

"'You forget,' I said.

"Some inkling of the truth came to her, and she murmured confusedly that she had forgotten. The duchess looked perfectly satisfied; but when she had quitted the room, Lady Agnes said to me:

"'Estelle, I do not quite understand; I never saw you on Tuesday.'

"'I know that,' was my curt reply.

"'Then why did you tell your mother you had been with me?'

"'Because I did not wish her to know where I had been,' I replied.

"She kissed me, and said, sadly:

"'You have secrets even from me, then?'

"And I answered:

"'Yes.'

"She looked very unhappy.

"'Estelle,' she said, 'I hope I have not been foolish, and aided you in folly?'

"But I would not listen to her – I only laughed. After that Lady Agnes became more cautious. I do not know whether she had any suspicion or not – she never expressed any to me.

"After that I found more difficulty in meeting my husband. Oh! wretched story! How I loathe the telling of it! He grew impatient and angry, while, as the days passed on, I shrank with greater dread from letting my parents know what I had done.

"Then jealousy, anger, quarrels, and impatience took the place of love. I cannot tell you the history of that wretched time – I dare not. I had to find out then that a Studleigh could indulge in rage as well as love. It was not long before I learned many bitter lessons.

"At length one day we had a more than usually angry quarrel, and then my husband vowed that he would leave me. A regiment was ordered to India next week; he would exchange into it, and I should never see him again. In vain I wept, pleaded, prayed. He was in one of his terrible furies, and nothing could move him. Still, I never believed that he would do it. Had I even fancied so, I should have instantly, at any cost, have told my mother all; but I thought it merely a threat, a cruel and unmanly threat, but an empty one. I resolved that for some days I would not write to him.