Part 15 (1/2)
Lord Chandos, looking round the opera-house, where some of the handsomest women in England were, said to himself that among all these fair and n.o.ble faces there was not one so beautiful as Leone's.
She herself was quite unconscious of the admiration she excited; she did not see how the opera-gla.s.ses were turned to her face; she could not hear people asking: ”Who is that with Lord Chandos? What a beautiful face, what a lovely girl! Who is she?” Lord Chandos saw it, and was not only proud, but flattered by it.
”My mother will yield at once when she sees her,” he thought; ”she will be pleased that the most beautiful woman in England is my wife.”
He made no introductions, though many of his friends bowed to him, with a secret hope that he would ask them into his box. But he had arranged his own plans. His mother--the proud, exclusive, haughty Countess of Lanswell--should be the one to introduce his beautiful wife to the world; that of itself would be a pa.s.sport for her. So that he was careful not to ask any one into his box, or even to exchange a word with any of the people he knew.
From the time the curtain was drawn up until the opera ended, Leone was in a trance. Quite suddenly she had entered this new and beautiful world of music and art--a world so bright and dazzling that it bewildered her.
Lord Chandos watched her with keen delight--her l.u.s.trous eyes, the intense face, the parted lips.
The opera was one of the most beautiful--”Norma”--and the part of Norma was taken by the greatest _prima donna_ of her time. Leone's eyes filled with tears as those pa.s.sionate reproaches were sung; she knew nothing of the language, but the music was full of eloquence for her. She turned suddenly to her husband; her whole soul seemed awake and thrilling with dramatic instinct.
”Lance,” she said in a low voice, ”I could do that; I do not mean that I could sing so well, but I could feel the jealousy she feels. I could utter those reproaches. Something seems to have awoke in my soul that never lived before; it is all new to me, yet I understand it all; my heart is on fire as I listen.”
”And you have enjoyed it?” he said, when the curtain fell on the last grand scene.
She answered him with a low sigh of perfect content.
So it was that to her her wedding-day became the most marked day of her life, for on it she awoke to the knowledge of the world of art and music.
There was nothing for it but to remain at the hotel.
Lord Chandos merely laughed at the notion of his parents holding out against him. He was wonderfully sanguine.
”We shall hear the carriage stop some fine morning,” he said, ”and they will be here to seek a reconciliation.”
He laughed when the waiter gave him my lady's letter; he turned triumphantly to his wife.
”This is from my mother,” he said; ”I knew she would relent, it is probably to ask us to Cawdor.”
But as he read it his face changed; the smile and the triumph died from it. He said no word to Leone, but tore the letter into shreds. She looked on with a wistful face.
”Is it from your mother, Lance?” she asked.
He took her in his arms and kissed her.
”My darling, do not trouble about them; you are all the world to me.
They will not forgive me; but it does not matter. I am proud of what I have done. I am quite independent. I shall take a pretty little villa at Richmond, and we shall live there until they come to their senses.”
”That will be giving up all the world for me,” she said.
”The world will be well lost, Leone. We will go to-morrow and find a pretty little house where we shall be quite happy. Remember one thing always--that my mother will love you when she sees you.”
”Then let her see me now, Lance, at once,” she cried, eagerly, ”if you think so. Why wait? I should be more happy than any one else in the world if you would do that.”
”It is too soon yet,” he replied; ”all will be right in time.”