Читать книгу The Forger's Wife - Lang John - Страница 4

Table of Contents

MRS. ORFORD was induced to visit a watering-place in Devonshire. Mr. Orford's parliamentary duties required his presence in town.

At this watering-place, Mrs. Orford and Emily met in society a person of gentlemanlike appearance, called "Captain Harcourt." His manners were prepossessing, his address unaffected and easy. He was very good-looking, amusing, and clever, though superficial. He was a great favourite with the little society, and the young ladies used to speak of him as "that charming man."

Captain Harcourt did not pay Miss Orford the attention she had been accustomed to receive; he seemed to prefer others who had less pretensions to beauty. He had never once asked Miss Orford to dance, though he had been introduced to her, and had met her at several evening parties. He appeared to hold aloof from Emily, though he occasionally condescended to converse with her mother.

Mrs. Orford invited Captain Harcourt to dine at her house, albeit he had never called upon her. The Captain accepted the invitation, and after dinner, over the dessert, culled for Mrs. Orford that bouquet of compliments for which she had been pining all day long.

At the request of her mother, Emily played and sang; and Captain Harcourt bestowed that languid applause which men of fashion frequently affect. His ears were enchanted by her voice, but he skilfully kept his raptures under control. Emily's sketches, too, were also exhibited for Captain Harcourt's inspection and criticism, and he was pleased to speak of them as "rather good—not at all bad."

On taking leave of Mrs. Orford and her daughter, the Captain shook the former's hand very graciously, but gave Emily only two fingers and a very low bow.

On the following day Captain Harcourt met Mrs. Orford and her daughter on the beach. As he approached, Emily blushed, and involuntarily trembled. She knew not why, but she felt ill, and could scarcely refrain from bursting into tears. Captain Harcourt spoke to Emily in a patronising tone of voice, and with the air of a man who feels that his words are valuable. Emily was annoyed; but she could not hate the man. She had now an interest in him. And why? He had piqued her, provoked her.

It is hard to say at what age folly is likely to end in women who have been greatly admired in their youthful days. Mrs. Orford was actually proud that Captain Harcourt preferred her conversation to that of her daughter, and had she been a widow, she would have accepted him as a second husband, had he proposed to her.

On taking leave that evening on the beach, Captain Harcourt bestowed upon Emily a warmer shake of the hand than he had given her on the previous night, and smiled upon her. Emily was not prepared for this. It took her by surprise; and the gentle pressure she experienced thrilled through every vein, and made her heart beat violently.

Emily could not sleep that night; she lay awake thinking of Captain Harcourt. She could now feel for poor Charles Everest, for Mr. Hastings, and for Captain Deesing, since she had conceived a love for a man who regarded her with indifference, or who was only civil to her, out of mere charity. More than once she summoned all her pride, and tried to laugh at herself for thinking of Captain Harcourt; but that luscious poison of love had entered into her blood, and in vain did she attempt to eject it.

It was Emily's wont to rise early, and walk with her maid by the sea shore. While she was dressing on the morning which followed that most eventful evening of her life, oh! how she longed that she might meet Captain Harcourt!—that she might see him, even if it were at a distance! Emily did see him; and when she bowed to him he raised his hat, gave a formal inclination of his head, and, with a smile on his face, passed on.

Captain Harcourt had far more cunning than any of those gentlemen who had aspired to Emily Orford's affections. He knew that the shortest and safest way to a woman's heart and soul was the longest way round, and by the most intricate path. That she was an heiress, and that her father was a man possessed of great parliamentary interest, he had already informed himself.

When Captain Harcourt was convinced that Emily really loved him—after he had observed her keep her eyes upon him for hours together at several parties—he proceeded with immense tact to rivet (if that were necessary) the regard which Emily entertained for him; and one afternoon, when she was walking, alone, on the beach, he came up suddenly and offered his arm.

"I am afraid, Miss Orford, you must often have thought me very uncouth; but, alas! you little know what pain the demeanour I have felt bound to assume has caused me. I am about to leave this place to-morrow, and the chances are we may never meet again, for my regiment is abroad, and I must join it; but before we part, let me assure you, that I have not been insensible of your beauty, your talents, your great and varied accomplishments; nor have I been a stranger to the goodness of your heart. I am a proud man, and I have struggled hard to conceal that I loved you, because I would not run the risk of being repulsed by one, the name of whose rejected lovers must already be legion. I would ask you, as a favour, not to think ill of me after I am gone." And he gently took her hand, and held it in his own.

Emily leaned heavily upon Captain Harcourt's arm, and looked up into his large dark eyes. She could not speak just then, but presently she said, "Do not go to-morrow. Stay here a little longer."

"Can it be that your heart beats a response to mine?" he inquired, with well-feigned wonder.

"Yes," and again she looked into his eyes.

By this time they had rounded the cliff. Not a soul was near them. They were soon pledged to each other, and their pledges witnessed by the wild waves which came dancing to their feet.

Emily was a member of the Catholic Church—so was her mother—though her father was a Protestant. She made this known to Captain Harcourt, who, to her unspeakable joy, did not regard her faith in the light of an impediment to their union. And then the Captain quoted to her those passionate lines of Moore:—

"On some calm placid shore we'll dwell,

Where 'tis no crime to love too well;

Where thus to worship tenderly

An erring child of light like thee

Would not be sin; or if it be,

Where we might weep our faults away

Together kneeling night and day;

Thou, for my sake, at Alla's shrine,

And I at any God's for thine!"

"I have to fear, dearest," said Captain Harcourt, "that at present it would be premature to mention our attachment to your excellent mother. For a brief while let it be a secret known only to ourselves. We can meet every morning early, and every afternoon at about this hour; and at our leisure we can settle our plans, dearest Emily. Yes. Since you wish it, I will defer my departure."