Part 39 (1/2)

Laura's next act was to glance round uneasily at Mamma Bray and Sir Philip; but there was nothing to fear there: their attention was taken up by the audience, and from their position it was impossible for them to see where Max and his companions were seated.

The next moment Laura's eyes were directed towards Charley, as he sat sternly, fiercely looking down again, and then, softly, tremulously, and as if even the delicately-gloved hand deprecated what it was about to attempt, she laid that hand upon his stalwart arm, and he turned once more, frowning heavily, to encounter those great eyes, pitiful, imploring, swimming in tenderness. It seemed to him that it was pity for him, sorrow for the pain he was suffering; and as the frown pa.s.sed from his brow, he returned her gaze till her eyes sank shrinkingly before his, and the great long dark lashes fell to curtain them from his sight.

But her hand still rested upon his arm, pressing it more and more tightly; and again her eyes were raised to his for him to read in them once more the same expression.

Yes, it must be pity, sorrow for him; and he read them so, as, forgetful of all--opera, the hundreds around, even those in the box with them-- Laura came nearer and nearer to him, till he felt her soft breath upon his cheek as she whispered:

”Charley, I can bear this no longer. Will you take me home?”

They rose together, and Laura whispered a few words to Mrs Bray; the next minute they were in the corridor, and then what followed seemed to Charley like a dream--the coldness of air as they pa.s.sed through swing-- doors, the fastening of cloak and adjustment of hood, the descent of stairs, and the rattling of wheels; and then, with the recollection of what he had last seen--Ella Bedford's face turned smilingly towards Max--Charley Vining was seated in a street cab, rattling over the stones, with Laura Bray still clinging to his arm, to utter his name once in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, as, in spite of all he could do to prevent it, she flung herself on her knees in the rough straw, her rich evening dress forgotten, as she clung to his hand and pressed it to her burning forehead, kissed it, deluged it with her scalding tears, while, as he bent over her, he could feel that her sobs shook her frame as they burst from her labouring breast.

At length, partly by a few deeply-uttered words, partly by pa.s.sing his arms round and lifting her, Charley Vining had the pa.s.sionate girl at his side; but only for her to cling to him, sobbing fearfully, till they neared the house.

It was barely half-past nine, and as he handed her out, he would have parted from her; but she clung to his hand, and together they went up into the drawing-room, where, once more alone, Laura threw herself at his feet, clinging to him, sobbing hysterically, imploring him to forgive her, to be lenient to her; it was all for love of him--the love she had borne him so long without a tender word in return. She accused herself of want of womanly feeling, of baseness, of treachery, las.h.i.+ng herself with fierce words in her pa.s.sion, till, moved by pity, maddened by despair and disappointment, Charley Vining began to feel that he was but weak--that he was but man, after all. The icy coldness gradually melted away, and he whispered first a few words, then one arm was pa.s.sed round the kneeling form.

”Forgive me--forgive! It is all for the love of you!” sobbed Laura with a fierceness of emotion that startled him.

”Forgive you?” he said; ”I have nothing to forgive.”

And then Ella, the past, all was forgotten, as his other arm drew her nearer to him as she knelt, and the next moment, with a wild sigh, Laura's arms were tightly clasping his neck, and her face was buried in his breast. Then a click of the door-handle, a stream of light, and Laura was upon her feet, tall, proud, and defiant.

”Did you ring for candles, ma'am?” said the voice of the butler.

”Set them down,” was the reply; and the man withdrew.

Charley had risen too, and was standing by her side.

”Go, now,” she said, in a choking voice; ”I can bear no more to-night.

But tell me--O, tell me,” she cried, throwing herself at his feet, and clasping his knees--”tell me that you forgive me!”

”Forgive you, my poor girl?” said Charley softly, as he bent down to her, once more to pa.s.s his arms round her lithe form, when, with a bound, she was again nestling in his breast, but with her face turned towards his, and for a moment their lips met.

The next, Laura had hurried from the room; while, with every pulse in his frame beating furiously, Charley walked down to the hall, accepted the footman's a.s.sistance with his coat, and then he made his way-out into the great deserted street, to walk staggering along like one who had drunk heavily of some potent liquor. But Charley Vining's was a maddening sense. What had he done? He had not waited for the proof.

He had been weak and vile in his own sight; and as he staggered along, he anathematised himself again and again, and, as if appealing to some great power, he called upon Ella to save him from the degradation of his heart.

”False!--false!--false to her! A coward--a scoundrel--a villain! Why was I made with such a weak and empty heart?”

Then he walked on faster and faster for long enough, not heeding where he went, but muttering still:

”Fate, fate, fate! And I have done all that mail can do. I must submit, and I love her not. Do I not hate her--or has she conquered?”

”Hadn't you better take a cab, sir?” said a rough voice; and a policeman's hand was laid upon his arm. ”It's too bad, r'aly, sir; but you gents will do it. Now, only think of coming into a place like this here, reg'lar lushy, and with diamond studs and gold watches and chains s.h.i.+ning out in the light, and asking poor starving men to steal them!”

”I'm not drunk, my man,” cried Charley, himself again in a moment.

”Thank you; get me a cab. Not a savoury locality!” and he glanced round at the dark lane and the ill-looking figures about.

”This way, then, sir,” said the man; and he led him into a wider thoroughfare, where, a cab being called, and the policeman substantially thanked, Charley Vining was driven to his hotel, his brain a very chaos of doubt, despondency, and rage at what he called his baseness and falseness to his vows.