Part 47 (1/2)
What do you think Moss will say?”
”What can it signify what Mr. Moss may say?”
”Ah! but my own man, it does signify. Mr. Moss shall know that through it all I have done my duty. Madame Socani will tell lies, but she shall feel in her heart that she has once in her life come across a woman who, when she has signed a bit of paper, intends to remain true to the paper signed. And, my lord, there is still 100 due to you from my father.”
”Gammon!” said the lord.
”I could pay it by a cheque on the bank, to be sure, but let us go on to the end of May. I want to see how all the young women will behave when they hear of it.” And so some early day in June was fixed for the wedding.
Among others who heard of it were, of course, Mr. Moss and Madame Socani. They heard of it, but of course did not believe it. It was too bright to be believed. When Madame Socani was a.s.sured that Rachel had taken the money,--she and her father between them,--she declared, with great apparent satisfaction, that Rachel must be given up as lost. ”As to that wicked old man, her father--”
”He's not so very old,” said Moss.
”She's no chicken, and he's old enough to be her father. That is, if he is her father. I have known that girl on the stage any day these ten years.”
”No, you've not; not yet five. I don't quite know how it is.” And Mr.
Moss endeavoured to think of it all in such a manner as to make it yet possible that he might marry her. What might not they two do together in the musical world?
”You don't mean to say you'd take her yet?” said Madame Socani, with scorn.
”When I take her you'll be glad enough to join us; that is, if we will have you.” Then Madame Socani ground her teeth together, and turned up her nose with redoubled scorn.
But it was soon borne in upon Mr. Moss that the marriage was to be a marriage, and he was in truth very angry. He had been able to endure M. Le Gros' success in carrying away Miss O'Mahony from ”The Embankment.” Miss O'Mahony might come back again under that or any other name. He--and she--had a musical future before them which might still be made to run in accordance with his wishes. Then he had learned with sincere sorrow that she was throwing herself into the lord's hands, borrowing money of him. But there might be a way out of this which would still allow him to carry out his project. But now he heard that a real marriage was intended, and he was very angry. Not even Madame Socani was more capable of spite than Mr. Moss, though he was better able to hide his rage. Even now, when Christmas-time had come, he would hardly believe the truth, and when the marriage was not instantly carried out, new hopes came to him--that Lord Castlewell would not at last make himself such a fool. He inquired here and there in the musical world and the theatrical world, and could not arrive at what he believed to be positive truth. Then Christmas pa.s.sed by, and Miss O'Mahony recommenced her singing at Covent Garden. Three times a week the house was filled, and at last a fourth night was added, for which the salary paid to Rachel was very much increased.
”I don't see that the salary matters very much,” said Lord Castlewell, when the matter was discussed.
”Oh, but, my lord, it does matter!” She always called him my lord now, with a little emphasis laid on the ”my.” ”They have made father a Member of Parliament, but he does not earn anything. What I can earn up to the last fatal day he shall have, if you will let me give it to him.”
They were very bright days for Rachel, because she had all the triumph of success,--success gained by her own efforts.
”I can never do as much as this when I am your countess,” she said to her future lord. ”I shall dwell in marble halls, as people say, but I shall never cram a house so full as to be able to see, when I look up from the stage, that there is not a place for another man's head; and when my throat gave way the other day I could read all the disappointment in the public papers. I shall become your wife, my lord.”
”I hope so.”
”And if you will love me I shall be very happy for long, long years.”
”I will love you.”
”But there will be no pa.s.sion of ecstasy such as this. Father says that Home Rule won't be pa.s.sed because the people will be thinking of my singing. Of course it is all vanity, but there is an enjoyment in it.”
But all this was wormwood to Mr. Moss. He had put out his hand so as to clutch this girl now two years since, understanding all her singing qualities, and then in truth loving her. She had taken a positive hatred to him, and had rejected him at every turn of her life. But he had not at all regarded that. He had managed to connect her with his theatre, and had perceived that her voice had become more and more sweet in its tones, and more and more rich in its melody. He had still hoped that he would make her his wife. Madame Socani's abominable proposal had come from an a.s.surance on her part that he could have all that he wished for without paying so dear for it. There had doubtless been some whispering between them over the matter, but the order for the proposal had not come from him. Madame Socani had judged of Rachel as she might have judged of herself. But all that had come to absolute failure. He felt now that he should be paying by no means too dear by marrying the girl. It would be a great triumph to marry her; but he was told that this absurd earl wished to triumph in the same manner.
He set afloat all manner of reports, which, in truth, wounded Lord Castlewell sorely. Lord Castlewell had given her money, and had then failed in his object. So said Mr. Moss. Lord Castlewell had promised marriage, never intending it. Lord Castlewell had postponed the marriage because as the moment drew nearer he would not sacrifice himself. If the lady had a friend, it would be the friend's duty to cudgel the lord, so villainous had been the n.o.ble lord's conduct. But yet, in truth, who could have expected that the n.o.ble lord would have married the singing girl? Was not his character known? Did anybody in his senses expect that the n.o.ble lord would marry Miss Rachel O'Mahony?
”If I have a friend, is my friend to cudgel you, my lord?” she said, clinging on to his arm in her usual manner. ”My friend is papa, who thinks that you are a very decent fellow, considering your misfortune in being a lord at all. I know where all these words come from;--it is Mahomet M. Moss. There is nothing for it but to live them down with absolute silence.”
”Nothing,” he replied. ”They are a nuisance, but we can do nothing.”
But Lord Castlewell did in truth feel what was said about him. Was he not going to pay too dearly for his whistle? No doubt Rachel was all that she ought to be. She was honest, industrious, and high-spirited; and, according to his thinking, she sang more divinely than any woman of her time. And he so thought of her that he knew that she must be his countess or be nothing at all to him. To think of her in any other light would be an abomination to him. But yet, was it worth his while to make her Marchioness of Beaulieu? He could only get rid of his present engagement by some absolute change in his mode of life. For instance, he must shut himself up in a castle and devote himself entirely to a religious life. He must explain to her that circ.u.mstances would not admit his marrying, and must offer to pay her any sum of money that she or her father might think fit to name. If he wished to escape, this must be his way; but as he looked at her when she came off the stage, where he always attended her, he a.s.sured himself that he did not wish to escape.
CHAPTER x.x.xV.