Dawn: Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Philip did not neglect to go to luncheon at Rewtham house, and a very
pleasant luncheon it was; indeed, it would have been difficult for him
to have said which he found the pleasantest: Maria's cheerful chatter
and flattering preference, or Hilda's sweet and gracious presence.
After luncheon, at Maria's invitation he gave Fraulein von Holtzhausen
her first lesson in writing in English character; and to speak truth
he found the task of guiding her fair hand through the mysteries of
the English alphabet a by no means uncongenial occupation. When he
came away his admiration of Hilda's blue eyes was more pronounced than
ever; but, on the other hand, so was his conviction that he would be
very foolish if he allowed it to interfere with his intention of
making Maria Lee his wife.
He who would drive two women thus in double harness must needs have a
light hand and a ready lash, and it is certainly to the credit of
Philip's cleverness that he managed so well as he did. For as time
went on he discovered his position to be this. Both Hilda and Maria
were in love with him, the former deeply and silently, the latter
openly and ostensibly. Now, however gratifying this fact might be to
his pride, it was in some ways a thorny discovery, since he dared not
visibly pay his attentions to either. For his part he returned Hilda
von Holtzhausen's devotion to a degree that surprised himself; his
passion for her burnt him like a fire, utterly searing away the traces
of his former affection for Maria Lee. Under these circumstances, most
young men of twenty-one would have thrown prudence to the winds and
acknowledged, either by acts or words, the object of their love; but
not so Philip, who even at that age was by no means deficient in the
characteristic caution of the Caresfoot family. He saw clearly that
his father would never consent to his marriage with Hilda, nor, to
speak truth, did he himself at all like the idea of losing Miss Lee
and her estates.
On the other hand, he knew Hilda's proud and jealous mind. She was no
melting beauty who would sigh and submit to an affront, but, for all
her gracious ways, at heart a haughty woman, who, if she reigned at
all, would reign like Alexander, unrivalled and alone. That she was
well aware of her friend's tendresse for Philip the latter very
shortly guessed; indeed, as he suspected, Maria was in the habit of
confiding to her all her hopes and fears connected with himself, a
suspicion that made him very careful in his remarks to that young
lady.
The early summer passed away whilst Philip was still thinking over his
position, and the face of the country was blushing with all the glory
of July, when one afternoon he found himself, as he did pretty
frequently, in the shady drawing-room at Miss Lee's. As he entered,
the sound of voices told him that there were other visitors beside
himself, and, as soon as his eyes had grown accustomed to the light,
he saw his cousin George, together with his partner Mr. Bellamy, and a
lady with whom he was not acquainted.
George had improved in appearance somewhat since we last saw him
meeting with severe treatment at his cousin's hands. The face had
filled up a little, with the result that the nose did not look so
hooked, nor the thick lips so coarse and sensual. The hair, however,
was as red as ever, and as for the small, light-blue eyes, they
twinkled with the added sharpness and lustre that four years of such
experience of the shady side of humanity as can be gathered in a
lawyer's office, is able to give to the student of men and manners.
So soon as Philip had said how-do-you-do to Maria and Hilda, giving to
each a gentle pressure of the hand, George greeted him with warmth.
"How are you, Philip? delighted to see you; how is my uncle? Bellamy
saw him this morning, and thought that he did not look well."
"I certainly did think, Mr. Philip," said the gentleman alluded to, a
very young-looking, apple-faced little man, with a timid manner, who
stood in the background nervously rubbing his dry hands together--"I
certainly did think that the squire looked aged when I saw him this
morning."
"Well, you see, Mr. Bellamy, eighty-two is a good age, is it not?"
said Philip, cheerfully.
"Yes, Mr. Philip, a good age, a very good age, for the _next heir_,"
and Mr. Bellamy chuckled softly somewhere down in his throat, and
retreated a little.
"He is getting facetious," broke in George, "that marriage has done
that for him. By the way, Philip, do you know Mrs. Bellamy? she has
only been down here a fortnight, you know. What, no! Then you have a
pleasure to come" (raising his voice so that it might be heard at the
other end of the room), "a very clever woman, and as handsome as she
is clever."
"Indeed! I must ask you to introduce me presently, Mr. Bellamy. I only
recently heard that you were married."
Mr. Bellamy blushed and twisted and was about to speak, when George
cut in again.
"No, I dare say you didn't; sly dog, Bellamy; do you know what he did?
I introduced him to the lady when we were up in town together last
Christmas. I was dreadfully hard hit myself, I can assure you, and as
soon as my back was turned he went and cut me out of the water--and
turned my adored into Mrs. Bellamy."
"What are you taking my name in vain about, Mr. Caresfoot?" said a
rich, low voice behind them.
"Bless me, Anne, how softly you move, you quite startled me," said
little Mr. Bellamy, putting on his spectacles in an agitated manner.
"My dear, a wife, like an embodied conscience, should always be at her
husband's shoulder, especially when he does not know it."
Bellamy made no reply, but looked as though the sentiment was one of
which he did not approve; meantime the lady repeated her question to
George, and the two fell into a bantering conversation. Philip, having
dropped back a little, had an opportunity of carefully observing Mrs.
Bellamy, an occupation not without interest, for she was certainly
worthy of notice.
About twenty years of age, and of medium height, her figure was so
finely proportioned and so roomily made that it gave her the
appearance of being taller than she really was. The head was set
squarely on the shoulders, the hair was cut short, and clustered in
ringlets over the low, broad brow; whilst the clearly carved Egyptian
features and square chin gave the whole face a curious expression of
resoluteness and power. The eyes were heavily-lidded and greyish-green
in hue, with enormously large dark pupils that had a strange habit of
expanding and contracting without apparent reason.
Gazing at her, Philip was at a loss to know whether this woman so
bizarrely beautiful fascinated or repelled him; indeed, neither then
nor at any future time did he succeed in deciding the question. Whilst
he was still contemplating, and wondering how Bellamy of all people in
the world had managed to marry such a woman, and what previous
acquaintance George had had with her, he saw the lady whisper
something to his cousin, who at once turned and introduced him.
"Philip," he said, "let me introduce you to the most charming lady of
my acquaintance, Mrs. Bellamy."
Philip bowed and expressed himself delighted, whilst the lady curtsied
with a mixture of grace and dignity that became her infinitely well.
"Your cousin has often spoken to me of you, Mr. Caresfoot, but he
never told me----" here she hesitated, and broke off.
"What did he never tell you, Mrs. Bellamy? Nothing to my disadvantage,
I hope."
"On the contrary, if you wish to know," she said, in that tone of
flattering frankness which is sometimes so charming in a woman's
mouth, "he never told me that you were young and handsome. I fancied
you forty at least."
"I should dearly like to tell you, Mrs. Bellamy, what my cousin George
never told _me_; but I won't, for fear I should make Bellamy jealous."
"Jealousy, Mr. Caresfoot, is a luxury that _my_ husband is not allowed
to indulge in; it is very well for lovers, but what is a compliment in
a lover becomes an impertinence in a husband. But if I keep you here
much longer, I shall be drawing the enmity of Miss Lee, and--yes, of
Fraulein von Holtzhausen, too, on to my devoted head, and, as that is
the only sort of jealousy I have any fear of, or indeed any respect
for, being as it is the expression of the natural abhorrence of one
woman for another, I had rather avoid it."
Philip followed the direction of her sleepy eyes, and saw that both
Miss Lee and Hilda appeared to be put out. The former was talking
absently to Mr. Bellamy, and glancing continually in the direction of
that gentleman's wife. The latter, too, whilst appearing to listen to
some compliment from George, was gazing at Mrs. Bellamy with a curious
look of dislike and apprehension in her face.
"You see what I mean; Fraulein von Holtzhausen actually looks as
though she were afraid of me. Can you fancy any one being afraid of
me, except my husband, of course?--for as you know, when a woman is
talking of men, her husband is _always_ excepted. Come, we must be
going; but, Mr. Caresfoot, bend a little nearer; if you will accept it
from such a stranger, I want to give you a bit of advice--make your
choice pretty soon, or you will lose them both."
"What do you mean--how do you know----"
"I mean nothing at all, or just as much as you like, and for the rest
I use my eyes. Come, let us join the others."
A few minutes later Hilda put down her work, and, declaring that she
felt hot, threw open the French window and went out into the garden,
whither, on some pretext or other, Philip followed her.
"What a lovely woman that is," said Mrs. Bellamy, with enthusiasm, to
Miss Lee, as soon as Philip was out of earshot. "Her _tout ensemble_
positively kills one. I feel plain and dowdy as a milkmaid alongside
of a Court-beauty when I am in the room with her. Don't you, Miss
Lee?"
"Oh, I don't know, I never thought about it, but of course she is
lovely and I'm plain, so there is no possibility of comparison between
us."
"Well, I think you rate yourself rather low, if you will allow me to
say so; but most women would but 'poorly satisfy the sight' of a man
when she was present. I know that I should not care to trust my
admirer (if I had one), however devoted he might be, for a single day
in her company; would you?"
"I really don't know; what _do_ you mean?"
"Mean, Miss Lee, why I mean nothing at all; what should I mean, except
that beauty is a magnet which attracts all men; it serves them for a
standard of morality and a test of right and wrong. Men are different
from women. If a man is faithful to one of us, it is only because no
other woman of sufficient charm has become between him and us. You can
never trust a man."
"What dreadful ideas you have."
"Do you think so? I hope not. I only speak what I have observed. Take
the case of Fraulein von Holtzhausen, for instance. Did you not notice
that whilst she was in the room the eyes of the three gentlemen were
all fixed upon her, and as soon as she leaves it one of them follows
her, as the others would have done had they not been forestalled? One
cannot blame them; they are simply following a natural law. Any other
man would do the same where such a charming person is concerned."
"I certainly did not notice it; indeed, to speak the truth, I thought
that they were more occupied with you----"
"With me! why, my dear Miss Lee, _I_ don't set up for being good-
looking. What a strange idea. But I dare say you are right, it is only
one of my theories based upon my own casual observations, and, after
all, men are not a very interesting subject, are they? Let's talk of
something more exciting--dresses, for instance."
But poor Maria was too uncomfortable and disturbed to talk of anything
else, so she collapsed into silence, and shortly after Mr. and Mrs.
Bellamy and George made their adieux.
Meanwhile Philip and Hilda had been walking leisurely down the
shrubberies adjoining the house.
"Why have you come out?" she asked in German, a language he understood
well.
"To walk with you. Why do you speak to me in German?"
"Because it is my pleasure to do so, and I never asked you to walk
with me. You are wanted in the drawing-room, you had better go back."
"No, I won't go, Hilda; that is, not until you have promised me
something."
"Do not call me Hilda, if you please. I am the Fraulein von
Holtzhausen. What is it you want me to promise?"
"I want you to meet me this evening at nine o'clock in the summer-
house."
"I think, Mr. Caresfoot, that you are forgetting a little what is due
to me, to yourself, and--to Miss Lee?"
"What do you mean by due to Miss Lee?"
"Simply that she is in love with you, and that you have encouraged her
in her affection; you need not contradict me, she tells me all about
it."
"Nonsense, Hilda; if you will meet me to-night, I will explain
everything; there is no need for you to be jealous."
She swept round upon him, tossing her head, and stamping her dainty
foot upon the gravel.
"Mr. Caresfoot," she said, "once and for all I am not jealous, and I
will not meet you; I have too much respect for myself, and too little
for you," and she was gone.
Philip's face, as he stood looking after her, was not pleasant to see;
it was very hard and angry.
"Jealous, is she? I will give her something to be jealous for, the
proud minx;" and in his vexation he knocked off the head of a
carnation with his stick.
"Philip, what _are_ you doing? Those are my pet Australian carnations;
at least, I think they are Australian. How can you destroy them like
that?"
"All right, Maria; I was only plucking one for you. Won't you put it
in your dress? Where are the others?"
"They have all gone. Come in, it is so hot out there; and tell me what
you think of Mrs. Bellamy."
"I think that she is very handsome and very clever. I wonder where
Bellamy picked her up."
"I don't know; I wish he hadn't picked her up at all. I don't like
her, she says unpleasant things; and, though I have only seen her
three times, she seems to know all about me and everybody else. I am
not very quick; but do you know just now I thought that she was
insinuating that you were in love with Hilda; that's not true, is it,
Philip? Don't think me forward if I ask you if that is true, and if I
say that, if it is, it is better that I should know it. I sha'n't be
angry, Philip;" and the girl stood before him to await his answer, one
hand pressed against her bosom to still the beating of her heart,
whilst with the other she screened her blushing brow.
And Philip too stood face to face with her sweet self, with
conscience, and with opportunity. "Now," whispered conscience, "is the
time, before very much harm is done; now is the acceptable time to
tell her all about it, and, whilst forbidding her love, to enlist her
sympathy and friendship. It will be wrong to encourage her affection;
when you ardently love another woman, you cannot palter any more."
"Now," whispered opportunity, shouldering conscience aside, "is the
time to secure her, her love, and her possessions, and to reward Hilda
for her pride. Do not sacrifice yourself to an infatuation; do not
tell her about Hilda--it would only breed jealousies; you can settle
with her afterwards. Take the goods the gods provide you."
All this and more passed through his mind; and he had made his choice
long before the rich blood that mantled in the lady's cheek had sunk
back to the true breast from whence it came.
Oh, instant of time born to colour all eternity to thine own hue, for
this man thou hast come and gone! Oh, fleeting moment, bearing
desolation or healing on thy wings, how the angels, in whose charge
lie the souls of men, must tremble and turn pale, as they mark thy
flight through the circumstances of a man's existence, and thence
taking thy secrets with thee away to add thy fateful store to the
records of his past!
He took her hand, the hand that was pressed upon her bosom.
"Maria," he said, "you should not get such ideas into your head. I
admire Hilda very much, and that is all. Why, dear, I have always
looked upon myself as half engaged to you--that is, so far as I am
concerned; and I have only been waiting till circumstances would allow
me to do so, to ask you if you think me worth marrying."
For a while she made no reply, but only blushed the more; at last she
looked up a little.
"You have made me very happy, Philip." That was all she said.
"I am very glad, dear, that you can find anything in me to like; but
if you do care for me, and think me worth waiting for, I am going to
ask something of your affection: I am going to ask you to trust me as
well as to love me. I do not, for reasons that I will not enter into,
but which I beg you to believe are perfectly straightforward, wish
anything to be said of our engagement at present, not even to your
friend Hilda. Do you trust me sufficiently to agree to that?"
"Philip, I trust you as much as I love you, and for years I have loved
you with all my heart. And now, dear, please go; I want to think."
In the hall a servant gave him a note; it was from Hilda, and ran
thus--
"I have changed my mind. I will meet you in the summer-house this
evening. I have something to say to you."
Philip whistled as he read it.
"Devilish awkward," he thought to himself; "if I am going to marry
Maria, she must leave this. But I cannot bear to part with her. I love
her! I love her!"