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A Heart Song of To day

A >> Annie Gregg Savigny >> A Heart Song of To day



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A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY
(DISTURBED BY FIRE FROM THE 'UNRULY MEMBER')


A NOVEL.

BY
MRS. ANNIE G. SAVIGNY.




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I.
A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT, AND HIRES A GARDENER

CHAPTER II.
A RARE SOCIETY BOUQUET

CHAPTER III.
THE FATES SPIN WITH THREADS OF BLACK

CHAPTER IV.
OF MADAME

CHAPTER V.
MADAME SHUFFLES THE CARDS

CHAPTER VI.
LOVE AND LOVE-MAKING

CHAPTER VII.
ORESTES AND PYLADES

CHAPTER VIII.
MADAME AND HER GARDENER

CHAPTER IX.
VAURA IN A MEDLEY

CHAPTER X.
VELVET PAWS CONCEAL CLAWS

CHAPTER XI.
ON THE WING

CHAPTER XII.
SOARING!--THENCE TO THINGS OF EARTH

CHAPTER XIII.
ADAM

CHAPTER XIV.
OF LIONEL TREVALYON

CHAPTER XV.
HEART-STIRS

CHAPTER XVI.
LIFTING THE VAIL

CHAPTER XVII.
CHIC AUJOURD'HUI

CHAPTER XVIII.
THEATRE FRANCAIS

CHAPTER XIX.
FOR A FAIR WOMAN FACE

CHAPTER XX.
QUICKENED HEART-BEATS

CHAPTER XXI.
LA BELLE VERNON

CHAPTER XXII.
THE BLIND GOD TAKES SURE AIM

CHAPTER XXIII.
THE WEB OF DIFFICULTY

CHAPTER XXIV.
SLAIN BY A WOMAN

CHAPTER XXV.
IN THE SUNBEAMS

CHAPTER XXVI.
A MOUNTAIN IDYL, OR AN ALPINE ROMANCE


CHAPTER XXVII.
GRUNDY'S LASH CAUSES HEART-ACHE

CHAPTER XXVIII.
HEART-STIRS TO DIVINE MUSIC

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE UNRULY MEMBER IS HEARD

CHAPTER XXX.
WOMAN AGAINST WOMAN

CHAPTER XXXI.
SOCIETY'S VOTARIES SMILE THOUGH THEY DIE

CHAPTER XXXII.
TREVALYON GONE, VAURA KILLS TIME

CHAPTER XXXIII.
WARM WORDS BRIDGE CRUEL DISTANCE

CHAPTER XXXIV.
BRIC-A-BRAC

CHAPTER XXXV.
HEART TO HEART

CHAPTER XXXVI.
KNAVES ARE TRUMPS

CHAPTER XXXVII.
WEE WHITE MOUSE WINS A POINT

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
MADAME IN A FELINE MOOD

CHAPTER XXXIX.
TREVALYON THROWS DOWN THE GLOVE

CHAPTER XL.
BLACK DELROSE USES EMPHATIC LANGUAGE

CHAPTER XLI.
AN EXPOSE, SOCIETY ON TIP-TOE

CHAPTER XLII.
"ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE."

CHAPTER XLIII.
WEE DETECTIVE PLAYS A WINNING CARD

CHAPTER XLIV.
DUAL SOLITUDE

CHAPTER XLV.
BLACK DELROSE AS A MARKSMAN

CHAPTER XLVI.
DISCORD ENDS; HEART'S-EASE AT LAST

* * * * *




A HEART-SONG OF TO-DAY

(DISTURBED BY FIRE FROM THE UNRULY MEMBER.)




CHAPTER I.

A PRETTY WOMAN LAYS A PLOT, AND HIRES A GARDENER.


"By Jove! I have missed her; you are a very Circe, Mrs. Tompkins."

The speaker, one of the handsomest men I have ever seen, started to
his feet as a beautiful Italian mantel clock rang in silver chimes the
hour of midnight.

"Sit down again my dear Captain, I have not told you all, and am a
wilful woman and must have my way. I know whom you have missed," she
said truly, for Sir Tilton Everly has informed her, out-come her woman
wit to prevent the meeting. "Is she anything to you?"

"No, and yes, as all women beautiful or fascinating are, I love you
all."

"You have large capacities, Captain Trevalyon, but I must make you
love one woman and only one, or I cannot sleep content," and the black
amorous eyes rest on his face.

"Ye gods! a confession," thought Trevalyon. "Awkward for me as I want
Haughton to have the innings; she is good fun and doesn't bore one,
but I've missed Vaura again, fool I was to come."

"You don't seem curious" continued Mrs. Tompkins, rolling a small
table on which was the _debris_ of a _petit_ champagne supper, from
between them.

"Curious! a prerogative of your sex, fair madame, though any of your
secrets would be _chic_ enough to tempt a man to encroach," he
answered gaily, drawing a chair near his own.

"Especially when 'tis of a woman who lives for him alone," and the
handsome wealthy widow sank into the chair opposite him.

"Yes, for an hour, for a day, and 'tis pleasant so you see I know you
gay butterflys," he said, lazily placing a foot-stool under the pretty
feet of his companion.

"Not so," she said slowly, and with a new tenderness in her tones.
"Not so; but first I brought you here to tell you your friend Colonel
Haughton made me an offer of marriage this moaning. What say you;
would you regret my fetters and wish me free? It shall be as you say."

Only that Mrs. Tompkins' attention was wholly given to her companion,
she would have noticed the heavy curtains opposite her and separating
her boudoir from a small morning-room pushed aside, and a pair of
wrathful blazing eyes watching her every movement; had either been
near enough, they would have heard a muttered oath at her last words.

"As I wish! 'tis well I am his friend, _chere_ madame, for there are
not many men would bid you to the altar with another, but I say take
him, there is not a better fellow in the kingdom, and here is my
benediction," and he laughingly lifted her hand to his lips.

"And is that all you care for me? Heavens! what different stuff we are
made of, you can bid me to another, while I could _kill_. Nay, don't
start. Yes, could kill a woman you might love. And the speaker looked
her words, while there was almost a sob in her voice as her bosom
heaved convulsively.

"My dear Mrs. Tompkins, you honor me too much; believe me, 'tis but a
passing fancy on your part."

"Passing fancy, never! Listen; you say you love no woman in especial,
wed me; love begets love; I am the wooer I know, but you are as
handsome as a god, and I have been always one to speak as I feel; yea,
and get what I want most days," she added, leaning forward and smiling
into his mesmeric eyes. "Come to me," and her heart was in her words.
"Come, you are poor in wealth, men say I have millions in gold, try
and love me and--"

"And--and what next--Kate--by gad, a pretty speech, allow me to
congratulate you. How do, Trevalyon; at your old game of slaughtering
hearts?" The speaker had come from behind the curtains and was the
owner of the wrathful eyes; a heavily built man of medium weight, a
bold man with a handsome black beard, though the top of his head was
bald. "You were always a good shot, Trevalyon, when the target was a
heart," he repeated savagely.

"'Twas you, who bagged the delicate game, if I remember you aright,
Delrose," said Trevalyon, with the utmost _sang-froid_ as he leaned
backwards and with his right hand fondled his long tawny moustache.

"George Delrose, what makes you here? You are Lucifer himself, I
believe," said Mrs. Tompkins wrathfully, pushing his hand from her
shoulder and starting to her feet.

"I gave strict orders to Peter to admit no one to my presence. I shall
discharge Him, and at once."

"Take it easy, Kate, _I_ have _promoted_ him to _my_ service."

"From gold lo brass is no promotion; he knows not the value of
metals."

"Jove! how like they are, the same bold handsome style, reckless to
the last degree," thought Trevalyon.

"They are both a passport to society! all a man wants to-day! so, my
pretty Kate don't look so severe, I have one, you have the other,"
said Delrose audaciously, and attempting to take her hand.

"No, I won't take your hand, go away this moment," and a decided foot
went down, "leave Captain Trevalyon and myself to conclude our
interview."

"You forget the proprieties, Kate, and though I like not the fruit,
I'll play gooseberry," and seating himself he coolly poured out a
glass of champagne.

"Shall I make my adieux, Mrs. Tompkins; it grows late?" said
Trevalyon, about to rise from his chair.

"No, stay awhile," said his hostess softly, for she thought Delrose
might go and she might so act on the feelings of Trevalyon by the
magnets love and gold as to win. In the meantime he thought as he
stroked his moustachs lazily, "a dashingly handsome woman, pity she
has let that dare-devil Delrose get some hold over her."

Major Delrose drank like a thirsty man, then folding his arms glared
defiantly at Kate who returned his gaze while trembling with wrath,
her eyes flashing.

"George Delrose, you are a coward to force yourself into a woman's
presence. Go this moment! I command you, or I shall summon the
household. Are you going?"

"No, by the Horse Guards! _I am not_!" and the flush of anger deepened
on his cheek. "I tell you, Kate, I am not a man to be made a football
of; don't, if you have a remnant of pity in your heart, drive me mad
by talk of marriage with another."

"And why not, pray?" inquired Mrs. Tompkins, recklessly, the next
instant regretting her foolhardiness, and before the eyes of the men,
one of whom she had a passion for; the other who had a passion for
herself, that she had outlived; and now with quick resolve and latent
meaning, knowing the intruder's love for coins, continued: "Even did
the Sultan of Turkey fancy me to adorn his harem, when I pined for
freedom, he would not despise the American eagle done in gold as an
exchange for my liberty."

"Cold, glittering metal _versus_ warm, loving heart of woman, and such
an one as you, never!" he answered, following her cue and looking her
in the eyes.

"I care not, he cannot afford to offend me," thought Mrs. Tompkins,
and so only showing a velvet paw, making a step towards him, her rich
crimson robes of velvet trailing after her, now offered her hand.
"Here is my hand, George, bid me good-night, and like a good fellow go
at once, and I forgive you."

"Dismiss Trevalyon first, I am an older friend than he," he answered
sulkily.

"I shall not; this is my boudoir, and, thank fate, I am my own
mistress."

"Then, by the stars, I stir not one inch!"

Both reckless, both determined, how would it end? and so Trevaylon
thought, as he said, coolly:

"What is the use of acting like this, Delrose? You certainly made your
_entree_ later than I, if you are making a point of that; but a
soldier is usually more yielding to woman's wish."

"Not often, Trevalyon, when her wish is the will of a rival," he
answered hotly.

"The fancy of a woman _a present_," thought Trevalyon. "But I must end
this, for he won't. I am in no mood for trifling, I have again missed
seeing Vaura. Mrs. Tompkins is charming in a _tete-a-tete_, but with
the _entree_ of a soldier on the war-path," and stepping towards his
hostess he said gallantly: "So fair a foe, dear Mrs. Tompkins,
surrounded by soldiers, is unfair; I beat a retreat. May I carry a
comforting message to the gentleman who called upon you this morning?"
and the blue mesmeric eyes rested on her face as he bent his handsome
Saxon head for her reply.

Her dark eyes met his in a pleading way, but she read no weakness
there, and thought as she gave him her hand:

"A man with an unsatisfied longing for another woman is difficult to
subdue, but if George had not intruded himself, I should not have let
him go till I had brought him to my feet, but I shall be revenged on
him, and win my love yet," and her hand lingered in his, while she
said:

"You may, he is your friend; you will be much with us."

"Thank you, for the two-fold kindness. Now gladly shall I be your
Mercury. Good-night," and lifting her hand to his lips, he was gone.

"Then you really mean to wed Colonel Haughton?" enquired Delrose in
unsteady tone.

"Come and sit beside me, Kate; you sat beside that other man. Gad! I
feel like shooting the follow."

"Mere bravado; gentlemen only meet their equals."

"Don't take that tone with me Kate, or by heaven he shall suffer."

"Good-night Major Delrose," she said mockingly. "I leave your
presence, _sans ceremonie_ as you entered mine."

And with the gas-light lighting up red-robes, jewels, coal-black
tresses and a smile all cruel, she was about to leave him.

"Stay, Kate, I command you. How will it be when I set the London world
on their ear, over your parentage, daughter of a nobody, your gold
from the Cosmopolitan Laundry."

Kate winced.

"It would be then a Haughton's turn to leave _sans ceremonie_; make up
friends, Kate," and his face softened, and going over he led her,
though unwillingly, to a seat beside his own.

"What a bore a persistent lover with a long memory is," thought Kate.
"But I cannot afford to quarrel with him."

"You are not serious, Kate. You will never sever the tie that binds
us?"

And bold man, though he was, his voice trembled as leaning forward he
strove to read the inmost thoughts of the woman who has played with
his affections at will.

"You said you loved me once, Kate, but I fear your heart had no part
in the matter, my devotion amused you, my bold wooing was a novelty,
the soldier in me was a change after the King of Laundry?"

"How dare you name the source of my wealth and to me!" she said
haughtily.

"Because, my dear, I know your weak point; and even though I anger
you, anything to turn your thoughts to myself; you must admit, Kate,
that it is hard lines for me; marry me, dear, and I am your slave, my
love for you will never change; it is as fierce and passionate as
ever."

And leaning forward his hands on her knees, he strove in vain to
imprison hers.

"While mine has changed," she said coldly; "love would indeed be a
tyrant, could we not roam at will."

And a vision of mesmeric eyes with a smile, sweet as a woman's came to
her. At her words Delrose buried his face in her hands and groaned
heavily, as though his heart would break. Then looking up into her
face, he said in thick tones.

"Have you no pity for me?"

"None, you have crossed my path, you have clouded my sky."

Had she pity for him, fool that he was to ask. Has the owner of
the favourite at Goodwood pity for the jockey who swoons in a
death-sickness, causing the next to come in a head's length? Has the
eagle pity for the young mother's wail for her babe as he carried it
aloft to feed the young? No, she told herself she had spoiled him,
allowing him the _entree_ to her presence for the past seven or eight
years at will. She cared for him too for his bold, fierce, passionate
nature, that is--in a way, if only he would not insist on monopoly,
but she would be willing to barter one clasp of the hand, one look
from the eyes of gay, genial, handsome, fascinating Captain Trevalyon
for the total banishment of her bold wooer.

"I have crossed your path, clouded your sky, and is this all the
comfort you give me for years of devotion?" he said slowly, and in a
broken voice. "Crossed your path because my love lives, while yours
for me is dead; crossed your path, clouded your sky, because I am
constant and wish to have you for my wife; wish to keep you in my
arms. Lincoln Tompkins never knew; our world never knew; crossed your
path? By the stars, Kate, I will not give you up!" And there is a
sudden fierceness in his tones, while his breath comes hard and fast.
"Crossed your path? 'tis Trevalyon who has again crossed mine. Gad!
how I hate him." And he set his teeth. "To think, too, that with your
high spirit, you should plead to him for his love."

"George Delrose, dare to repeat one word of a conversation you played
the sneak to listen to, and you shall come to grief."

And she started to her feet, receding several paces from him in rage
and mortification.

"Kate, dear, forgive me," and he is beside her; and strong man that he
is, he holds her by force in his arms until she is still.

"It is my love for you that maddens me. My queen, my beauty, come back
to me. Give your thoughts to me--you must, you shall."

"What shall I do with him?" she thought. "I love the other man, but if
I cannot win him, I shall gratify my ambition by marrying Haughton
Hall, and in petting my idol gratify myself; and so to pet my old love
until it's all over."

And now puss begins to purr.

"There, George dear, I give in; you leave no room for other fetters
than your arms. Let me go."

"Yes, my beauty, in a minute. You have been so cold to me of late, I
am famished. You will only marry me, Kate, only me. Say yes, dear;
Haughton would never suit you. But I cannot speak calmly of him or of
any other man in connection with yourself."

And he grew again fearfully excited.

"As for that fellow, Trevalyon, the club gossips have it that for
years he has had a hidden wife, and, depend upon it, it's true, these
curled darlings generally do that sort of trick."

"Stop; I may turn this to my future advantage," thought Kate, quickly;
"let me go, George, and you may sit beside me. There, that is better.
I wonder if this story is true; I remember you told it me at New York
as false; but I dare say at that time, not being jealous of him, you
were, after the manner of men, letting him down easily. Yes, we shall
take it for granted it is true. He is handsome enough to have got into
some matrimonial scrape ere now."

"I am regaining my old influence over her," thought simple Simon.

"Listen, George, a minute longer; you have seen this Miss Vernon,
Vaura Vernon, niece to Colonel Haughton. Describe her."

"Hang it, Kate! Leave the Haughton connection alone," he said,
jealously. "Talk about ourselves."

"I am just starving for a kind word."

"Which you won't get till I please. What makes you here? Just think of
that, and then say would any other woman be as kind. Now run over the
Vernon charms, if any."

"When she will, she will," he said sulkily. "I have only seen her in
the 'row' and that once, she was ahead of me so I did not see her
face, but she sat her horse well and her figure is perfect. I
overheard Wingfield at the 'Russell' club rooms, telling Chaucer of
the Guards (who is wild to meet her) that there is nothing to compare
with her in the kingdom, that she is a perfect goddess. Now are you
satisfied.

"Yes, yes; let me think a minute."

"Just the woman to attract; I must get her out of my path and separate
her from my haughty handsome idol, my king, my love," she thought
slowly, her black eyes wearing an intent look, her large lips tightly
compressed. Her companion did not break upon her reverie, he sat
quiet, studying her profile as he had often done before; there was a
certain witchery in the hour, the lateness, the stillness, the roseate
lights above them, then what we have all felt, the sweet bliss of
sitting in enforced quiet beside a loved one; our brain is quiet, our
hands idle; we dread to break the spell, we then as at no other time
literally live in the present.

Delrose scarcely moved a muscle; from shoulder to elbow the red velvet
of her gown mingled with his black coat sleeve. For some time she had
seemed to be drifting away from him, and their present _tete-a-tete_,
though compulsory on her part, was to him paradise. During the season
when the London world knew no monarch, save the king of revels. She
had laughed at his prayers for a quiet half hour, tossing him instead,
as she did to her parrot, now a few careless words, now a sugar plum.
At present the season is waning, and a great dread has taken
possession of him, lest she should slip away from him altogether, for
Dame Rumour has given the widow of the American millionaire in
marriage to more than one. The demon of unrest hath gat hold on him
and every night ere going to one or other of the many distractions
open to him, he paces the square opposite her windows to see who is
admitted. More than once Col. Haughton and the man he most fears,
Trevalyon, have alighted from the handsome dog-cart of the latter;
to-night as we know, he, with the madness of jealousy upon him, on
seeing his hated rival enter at eleven p.m., bribes a servant to admit
him one hour later. Eve had not confided in him that Trevalyon had
come only on a written invitation from herself couched in such terms
as he could not refuse. And the woman beside him thought silently,
seemingly oblivious of his presence. "I fear I have no chance with
him; he is pre-occupied with her; a man always is until he tires of
one. I must marry the Colonel. Household gods are permitted in
Christendom; he is my god and shall be then as now my idol."

And with a little laugh and a sigh she turned her face quickly,
brushing his beard (he was so near), and had laid his hand on hers as
she sighed.

"My queen," he whispered eagerly, "of whom have you been thinking all
this time? Say of me, and not of him."

"You men all go in for monopoly, George dear, but who is the obnoxious
'he' this time?"

"Trevalyon, of course; did I not hear you--"

"Stop! or we shall quarrel; if you must know, my thoughts were of you;
and I thought you were not such a bad fellow after all as Trevalyon;
it would be a terrible thing, George dear, did he inveigle Miss
Vernon, for whom he seems inclined, into a marriage with him."

"What the deuce need you care? She is nothing to you. Ah! I begin to
see," he continued thoughtfully; "you would not regret had he a taste
of the Tantalus punishment."

"I have some conscience left," she said merrily, "which is paying you
an indirect compliment, and if you wish to please me you will revive
this old scandal, so as to prevent this naughty fellow posing as
bigamist; and now promise me and tell me good-night."

"And you forgive me everything and restore me to favour, my queen,
while I swear he shall never marry Miss Vernon nor any other woman he
covets."

"Yes, you may come to me for your reward, if you effectually prevent
Miss Vernon posing as his wife. I shall be sweeter than honey in the
honey-comb to you then. But till then, pleasant dreams."

"Before I leave, you must tell me when I may see you alone, for this
banishment is killing me."

"Killing you! indeed; all gammon; never saw a man look as though he
enjoyed his beef and beer better; no, go do my bidding, and in your
effort to keep out Mormonism you will punish your foe and I shall
reward you."

"But when, Kate, when; you don't tell me; may I come to-morrow?"
persisted her lover, eagerly.

"No, I am steeped to the lips in engagements."

"But I _must_, Kate; a soldier is accustomed to daily pay."

"Don't be persistent, George, or you shall be off duty forever."

"You know you have your foot on my neck, dear, and you take
advantage."

"Most men would not object to its shape or weight," she said saucily
drawing her robe, exposing a very pretty foot encased in cream hose,
and a black satin boot fitting as perfectly as any Madame Vestris ever
wore.

"I am conquered, my queen," he said softly; "only let me come, and in
your own time."

"Well put, and now be off; I'll write you, as the letter writer says,
at my earliest convenience."

"Good-night; may it come soon."

"Remember your mission."

"I shall revive it with a vengeance."

And bending down something very like a lovers' parting took place.
Passing into the hall he stepped noiselessly out into the night; the
closing of the door roused the sleeping footman, who, as he locked the
door and saw his mistress pass from her boudoir to her sleeping
apartments, thought sleepily as he put out the lights--

"Peter won't get the sack for letten' him in after all; my lady is
sweet on him, I'm thinking, and I'm not in for Pete's place."




CHAPTER II.

A RARE SOCIETY BOUQUET.


Come now and unroll with me one corner of the still, the silent past,
and I shall read you a few pictures in the old time life at Haughton
Hall, County Surrey, England.

This one, a twelvth night scene of 1854, will interest us: Scene is
one of the drawing-rooms at the fine old stately mansion of grey
stone, Elizabethan in its grandeur of tower and pinnacle, its spots of
decay lovingly draped by the hand of Dame Nature, ivy constant and
clinging as though its robes of green loved the old grey stone. The
south wing, built by a Haughton two hundred years ago (for his Spanish
bride noble as beautiful, an Espartero by birth) alone is lighted. We
shall glance through this window. Ah! a priest of the Anglican Church;
before him stands a girl beautiful as an angel; beside her a handsome
man, dark and bronzed; on the third finger of her left hand he slips
the ring of gold which binds them as closely as its unbroken circle. A
sweet woman lying on a lounge with the seal of death on her brow
before whom they kneel and receive her blessing. The actors are Ethel
Haughton, Captain Vernon, --th Light Cavalry, and the poor invalid who
only lived to give her daughter in marriage. On the 27th March, same
year, the British Lion and Russian Bear met in combat; our troops went
out and among them Captain Vernon, when, sad to relate, his name was
one of the first of our brave soldiers on the death-roll at
Petropaulovski; we met with a repulse and he fell. His sweet young
bride did not long survive him, dying of a bitter loneliness called
heartache, leaving a lovely infant, the child Vaura.


TABLEAUX VIVANTS.

No. 2.

Fourteen years later, bringing us by the hand of time into 1868. Same
scene--Haughton Hall, morning--and ah! What a dream of beauty, a
child, woman now. In the sweet, somewhat sad pleading of her
expression, one catches a glimpse of the tender, loving woman of later
years, and so her companion, to whose arm she clings, sees her,
judging from the half wondering, wholly loving sympathy in his eyes.
Her movements are rapid, graceful and lithe as a young gazelle; she
has evidently expected a loved guest who has disappointed her. For now
her eyes are suffused with tears; she looses his arm and clasps her
hands appealingly as she points to an open letter on a table. A vacant
chair, slippers, and a _petit_ dinner untasted. He consults his watch,
strokes caressingly the bright brown hair reaching to her knees, and
fluffy as the coat of a water spaniel. Now taking her hand in adieu,
bends his noble head, and with a smile sweet as a woman's, would kiss
her, but she is no child this morning and he draws back with a look
half wonder in his eyes. The sweet girl too, after turning her flower
face upwards, droops the large luminous brown eyes and with a pretty
blush takes instead his right hand between her own and presses her
rose-mouth to it in a farewell greeting.

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