Chapter 73
"Yes, it is," promptly replied he. "I am a brute, my darling."
"No, but you had not thought. I think, perhaps, if I--if I had a wife; and if I were foolish enough to be very proud of her, as you are of poor little me, that I should be pleased for people to see her, and to see how happy I made her--and to let all the world know that I loved her so--and--and--oh, Leon, you are laughing at me," and, with a burst of childish merriment, she hid her face in his neck.
"Elsa," cried her lover, as soon as he could speak coherently, "my life, do as you like, go where you will--if you please yourself you please me!
I live to make your happiness, mind that!"
This was merely a specimen of the way in which Elsa carried her points.
Percivale was a mere child in her hands; she had a knack of making others feel themselves in the wrong, which was little short of genius.
Her presentation was a triumph. London was unanimous in p.r.o.nouncing her undeniably the beauty of the year; and her engagement to the mysterious Percivale, as well as the romantic story of their first meeting, surrounded them both with a perfect blaze of interest. Nothing else was talked of. The marriage would be the event of the season. The world was more than ever anxious to know more of the owner of the _Swan_.
"Miss Brabourne has never asked you anything about your belongings, has she?" asked Claud one day of Percivale.
"Never. She has not alluded to the subject."
"Take my advice," said Claud, "and don't volunteer that information which you mentioned to me."
"Oh, I must. I shall tell her everything when we are married. I have all along determined on that."
"People are so busy with your name, that it occurs to me that you are saddling a young girl with a great responsibility in giving her such a secret to keep."
Percivale smiled.
"Cranmer, are you in love?" he asked.
"Yes, I am. Why?" said Claud, bluntly.
The other looked surprised.
"Well," he said, "you have not honored me with your confidence; and it is quite new to me to hear that you are; but to the point. Would you not trust the woman of your choice with any secret?"
Claud hesitated a moment.
"Well, to be honest," said he at last, "yes. I certainly should."
"Should you not think it an insult to her to hold her debarred
"Undoubtedly I should."
"Well! Do you expect me to feel differently?"
Claud had no more to say. His own state of mind in these days was one of deep depression.
Henry Fowler had been obliged to leave town directly. Wynifred was announced to be convalescent; and, two days after his departure, Miss Ellen Willoughby had written to ask Hilda to bring her sister down to Edge Willoughby as soon as ever she was strong enough to travel, there to remain as long as she pleased, and grow strong in the soft sea air.
Claud's only comfort was in calling every day at Mansfield Road for news, and now and then leaving a basket of grapes or some flowers from his sister; but he could never gain admittance to see Wynifred, though his face, as he once or twice made a faltering pet.i.tion, went to Hilda's heart. His suspense was costing him a great deal, as was manifest from his countenance of settled gloom, his pale face, and the purple marks under his eyes.
Lady Mabel received a shock one day.
"Claud," said she, "I have been most astonished. Lady Alice Alison has been calling, and she tells me that the youngest Miss Allonby is going to marry one of the Haldanes of Eldersmain. I suppose I shall have to call; and she tells me also that their father was a colonel, and a nephew of Lord Dovedale. It is rather annoying; we ought to have known that before."
"Why?" asked Claud, aggressively.
"Why? Because I ought to have been told--I should have shown them more civility."
"Why, what do you know of the Dovedales?"
"Nothing, personally; but they are in society."
"Well? Are not the Allonbys in society?"
"Claud, how idiotic you can be when you like."
"It is a matter of necessity, not choice, my sister. My brain never did work as fast as yours. But the speed of yours is abnormal. However, I should not lay myself open to a snub by calling in Mansfield Road now."
"Why?"
"Because, if they have any pride, and I fancy they have a good deal, they will not return your call."
"Claud! Not return my call?"
"I think not. They are very stiff with me."
"That is just because I have not called."
"And now you are ready to do so on the strength of their great-uncle having been in 'Debrett,' Mab. I thought you were beyond that sort of thing."
"If it is being in love that makes you so unpleasant, my good boy, I do hope you will soon get over it."
"Get over it. You talk as if it was measles. Does one get over these things? But, if you find my company irksome, I can go to Portland Place, you know."
"Don't be offended; only you have been so terribly in the dumps lately.
Why don't you propose, and have done with it?"
"I am waiting for leave," said Claud, with a laugh which ended in a sigh, as he hurriedly left the room.
CHAPTER XLVII.
A man may love a woman perfectly, And yet by no means ignorantly maintain A thousand women have not larger eyes; Enough that she alone has looked at him With eyes that, large or small, have won his soul.
_Aurora Leigh._
Elsa Brabourne had been transformed into Elsa Percivale with the a.s.sistance of two bishops and a dean. Drawings of her _trousseau_ and of her bridesmaids' dresses had appeared in the ladies' newspapers. Her aunts had given a reception to about a hundred people of whom they had never heard before, and who, in return, had presented the bride with much costly rubbish which she did not want; and at last Leon had carried off his wife, in an ultra-fas.h.i.+onable tailor-made travelling dress, to Folkestone _en route_ for the Continent and Schwannberg.
Claud Cranmer had officiated, somewhat gloomily as best man at this wedding, the courts.h.i.+p of which had been so romantic, the realization so entirely Philistine.