Part 33 (2/2)
But Dona Carmen, though tender-hearted and sensitive, showed no signs of emotion. On the contrary, she replied in a steady voice:
”You know perfectly well that there is no truth in all that. I am not capable of taking any revenge, nor, if I were, could there be any such vengeance in leaving all I can to your daughter, who is mine solely by the affection I bear to her.”
The Duke changed his tactics. He looked at his wife compa.s.sionately for a few minutes, and then he said:
”The greatest happiness you could confer on Clementina to show your affection would be to get out of her way as soon as you can. Poor Osorio is up to the ears in hot water. Now I understand why his creditors have been so long-suffering. You no doubt have said something to his wife of this will of yours, and as you are somewhat ailing they are looking for your death like showers in May. Make no mistake about that.”
Dona Carmen at these cruel words turned even paler than she always was.
She clutched the arms of her chair with an effort to keep herself from fainting. This that her husband had said was horrible, but only too probable. He saw her agitation, and at once brought forward facts to confirm his hypothesis. He drew a complete picture of Osorio's position, pointing out how unlikely it was that his creditors should still give him time if they had not some definite hope to count on; and this could only be her own death.
The unhappy woman at last spoke. Her words were almost sublime:
”If, indeed, Clementina desires my death,” she said, ”then so do I, with all my heart. Everything I can leave is for her.”
Salabert left the room in a towering rage, fighting like a bull a.s.sailed by crackers, or an actor who has been hissed off the stage.
Dona Carmen lay for some time motionless in the att.i.tude in which he had left her, her eyes fixed on vacancy. At last two tears dropped from her eyes and slowly trickled down her cheeks.
CHAPTER XI.
THE DUKE'S BALL.
Weeks and months went by. Clementina spent the summer at Biarritz as usual. Raimundo followed her, leaving his sister in charge of some relations, and only returned at the end of September. A storm had swept over the orphan's dwelling which had completely wrecked its happiness.
Raimundo, entirely neglecting his methodical habits of study, had rushed into the world of pleasure with the ardour of a novice. His sister, amazed at such a change, remonstrated mildly but without effect. The young man behaved with the petulance of a spoilt child, answering her sharply, or if she spoke with sterner decision, melting into tears, declaring that he was miserable, that she did not love him, that it would have been better if he had died when his mother died, and so forth. Aurelia saw that there was nothing for it but to suffer in silence, and kept her fears and gloomy antic.i.p.ations to herself. She could too easily guess the cause of this change, but neither of them ever made any allusion to it; Raimundo because he could not speak to his sister of his connection with Clementina, and she because she could not bear that he should suppose she even understood it.
Meanwhile it led our young friend to great extravagance, far beyond what his income allowed. To enable him to keep up with the lady's carriage as she drove in the fas.h.i.+onable avenues, he bought a fine horse, after taking some riding lessons. Theatres, flowers and gifts for his mistress, amus.e.m.e.nts shared with his new friends of the Savage Club, dress, trinkets, everything, in short, which a youth ”about town”
thinks indispensable, cost him enormous sums in proportion to his income. He was forced to touch his capital. This, as we know, was in the form of shares in a powder manufactory, and in the funds. His mother had kept her securities in an iron box inside her wardrobe. When she died, the guardian she had appointed to her two children, examined the doc.u.ments and made due note of them, but as Raimundo was esteemed a very steady young fellow of impeccable conduct, and as he had for some time past presented and cashed the coupons, his uncle did not take the securities out of his keeping, but left them in the box where he had found them. And now Raimundo, needing money at any cost, and not daring to borrow it of any one, broke his trust, for he was not yet of legal age, and sold some of the securities. And the strange thing is, that although he had hitherto lived so blamelessly, upright in thought and honest in purpose, he did it without feeling any very deep remorse. His pa.s.sion had so completely stultified and altered him.
Of course he did not do this without its leading to worse consequences.
His uncle, hearing of his extravagant expenditure, came to the house one day, shut himself up with him in his study and attacked him point-blank:
”We must settle accounts together, Raimundo. From what I am told, and from what I can see, you are living at a rate which you cannot possibly afford. This is a serious matter, and, as your trustee, I must know where the money comes from, if not for your own sake, at any rate for your sister's.”
Raimundo was greatly startled. He turned pale and muttered some unintelligible words. Then finding himself at bay, at once perceiving that his safety depended on this interview--that is to say, the safety of his love affair--he did not hesitate to lie boldly.
”Yes, uncle, it is true that I am spending a good deal, more than my income would permit, no doubt. But you need not therefore conclude that it is the capital I inherited from my parents.”
”Well, then?”
”Well, then,” said the young man, and his voice dropped as if he had some difficulty in speaking, ”I cannot tell you whence I get the money, uncle, it is a matter of honour.”
His guardian was mystified.
”Of honour! I do not know what that may mean. But listen to me, boy; I cannot let the matter drop. My position is critical. If I do not take proper care of your interests I may find myself called upon to pay up, and there is no mercy for trustees.”
<script>