Disarmed ... Revised edition

Front matter

DISARMED METHUEN'S NOVEL SERIES THREE SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE. Aiessrs METHUEN will issue from time to time a Series of copyright Novels, by well-known Authors, handsomely bound, at the above popular price. The first volumes (ready) are : — F. MABEL ROBINSON. i. THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN S. BARING GOULD, Author op" Mehalah," be. JACQUETTA. Mrs LEITH ADAMS (Mrs De Courey Las an). 3. MY LAND OF BEULAH. G. aM AN VILLE FENN. 4. ELI'S CHILDREN^ 91 j S. BARING Goi/lfa-guftbr op" Mehalah;' be. 5. ARMINELL: A Social Romance. ' EDNA LYALL, Author op" Donovan," be. 6 DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. With Portrait of Author. F. MABEL ROBINSON. 7. DISENCHANTMENT. M. BETHAaM-EDWARDS. 8. DISARMED. S. BARING GOULD. [Shortly 9. MARGERY OF QUETHER. W. E. NORRIS. [Shortly. 10. JACK'S FATHER. Other Volumes will be announced in due course.

DISARMED BY M. BETHAM-EDWARDS Author of ' THE WHITE HOUSE BV THE SEA,' ' DK JACOB,' ' KITTY ' NEW AND REVISED EDITION jaethutn * (S.o. 18, BURY STREET, LONDON, W.C. 1891 [All rights reserved'} ,T. MILLER AND SON, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH DISARMED

Chapter I

I could never understand why a man should be con temptuously spoken of as living by his wits. 'Tis surely the prettiest compliment in the world. The eking out existence on a fine rent-roll requires no uncommon parts. To saw, plane, and dig potatoes is within the meanest capacity also. But to come into the world unencumbered of earthly goods as a bird or a butterfly — to make the day's invention suffice for the day's needs ! Here is a phenomenon that should surely captivate the dullest imagination ! Can we conceive the heaviness of the world without the engaging souls who, as the saying goes, live by their wits ? From Homer to Harlequin, from Michael Angelo to Mountebank, the wit of the few alleviates the dulness of the many. Knowledge does not always gladden ; philanthropy drives us mad. Who but the contriver of happy surprises saves society from universal suicide ?

Begrudge not then thy sixpence to yon poor Saltim banque, O fellow-groaner under the burdens of life ! If he ease thee not of a leaden hour, he is sure to do such a service for neighbours in worse plight than thyself. Give A DISAR.MED him sixpence, aye, a shilling, cheerfully, and bless him into the bargain, for he also is a benefactor of human kind. Blazing logs lit up the wintry twilight ; silver tea service, vermilion hangings, and every other brilliant object in the room glowing with lightwarmth, as one of four lazy loungers thus questioned another : ' Miss Artha ! What would you have done had you been born dull ? ' The young lady never so much as lifted her eyes to the speaker, but continued to turn over the pages of her illustrated paper ; dimpled wrist and fair hand, on which sparkled diamond rings, showing to as much advantage as if the leaves were turned for no other purpose.

Then, lazily and inoffensively, with eyes still bent on the page, she answered the question by putting another : ' What have you done all your life ? ' There came a malicious little laugh from the depths of one easy-chair, an interjection of reproof from the other ; but the first speaker rose from his seat and stood glaring at the offender. ' You are growing intolerable,' he said. ' But since you call me dull, I will be dull to you, and to your cost.' ' Oh dear ! don't, Mr Valerian,' began a timid feminine voice. ' Artha did not mean it, I am sure.' ' Now, Colley,' cried the occupant of the chair opposite, 1 1 forbid you to interfere. If Artha and Valerian did not hate each other, they would be as dull as old fogeys like ourselves.' The first little old lady sank back in her chair, breathing a sigh of resignation.

The second leaned forward, all alertness, to see what would follow. The pair between DISARMED 3 them presented also a striking contrast, the girl quiet, even languid, the man evidently irritated past endurance. 'Such ingratitude it has never been my lot to punish, for punish you I will. Turn no more of your dull people over to me.' Artha only smiled. ' The fact is, you are fast being spoilt. But your task from to-day will be to make bricks without straw. No appeal shall induce me to have pity on you.' Artha laughed. 'You should not put such questions. I cannot help it if I do really find you dull sometimes.' ' Do not say that, dear Artha,' again remonstrated Mademoiselle Colette, but she was straightway silenced by her formidable patroness. 'It is your book-learning, perhaps,' the girl went on, in the quietest manner. ' I should grow into a dullard, too, if I read as many.' ' You might be more of a scholar with advantage,' retorted the other. ' It is surely as well to know the three R's !

Don't, however, look to me any more to instruct your ignorance. Find some one else to teach you what every housemaid ought to know.' Thus saying the irate speaker dashed out of the room, Artha's provoking little laugh reaching him on the threshold. ' What a question to ask ! Yet it sets one thinking,' she said, looking in the fire. ' Why are so many people dull, I wonder? I suppose it is the curse of sin, the old Adam in us. And what should I have done had I been thus afflicted ? A blind man gets a dog to lead him ; a cripple can buy a wooden leg ; trumpets supply ears. But what shop could I go to for a parcel of wit ? And " a spry beggar's worth a golden fool, and a farthing's DISARMED 4 worth of wit fair change for fifty pound," says the proverb.' ' Does the proverb really say so ? ' asked Colette. ' Why did you not tell this to Mr Valerian ?

It would have amused hin.. It would have put him in a good temper.' 'Let Mr Valerian be,' answered Artha. ' He tries to crush me with his superiority. But I am his match with the tongue.' ' Don't quarrel. Pray don't quarrel. Try to see his best side,' pleaded the little Frenchwoman. ' Will you always be a child ? ' broke in the mistress of the house. ' My dear, good Colley, if Artha and Valerian try to crush each other, where's the harm ? Look on and laugh, as I do, but leave the rivals alone.' ' Why should they be rivals ? ' asked Colette, with a tone of pain. ' Why should they not be cherubs ? That is as rational a question. But now upstairs, for the business of dressing. Be sure to look in and give me a finishing touch, Artha. Benson knows no more how to dress me than if she had been lady-in-waiting to a savage, with only shell fringes for wardrobe.' The three ladies rose, Artha soon to appear in her patroness's tiring chamber, well dressed enough for a handsome girl of twenty-three, even had she been an heiress instead of a beauty who lived by her wits. ' Are you going to wear all these ? ' she asked, glancing at the dressing-table with unabashed girlish amusement.

It glittered with gold and jewellery, and from her seat before the mirror their withered owner contemplated the treasure, smiling an odd smile of satisfaction. ' Now, Artha, the truth ! Is it worth while for an old DISARMED 5 woman like me to bedizen myself with rubies and pearls ? ' Artha was curiously turning over the first ornaments that came to hand. Dazzling indeed, was the display. Amethyst contrasted with topaz, the violet and the crocus ; chrysolite, glow-worm among gems ; the modest yet bewitching sapphire, azure of heaven's own ; pearls for princesses born, and diamonds for nature's duchesses; with heaps of gold and silver beaten into beautiful shapes, broken sunrays, rippling moonlight — all were here ; and the girl contemplated them with the unenvying eye of youth, content to be itself.

Thus questioned she looked straight at the speaker, then at the reflection of the small shrunken face opposite. ' No,' was the prompt answer. ' If I were sitting before that glass, as you are now, and looking at myself, I should say, it is not worth while. But seated at the head of the dinner-table, and seeing everybody staring, not at me, but at my diamonds, I should say, Yes, it is worth while.' Miss Hermitage laughed that worldly little laugh so full of character. ' I knew I should get no beating about the bush from you, Miss Speak-your-mind. Then I am bound to befool myself because jewels impress people ? ' ' And amuse them.' 'You are right. It is our duty to amuse people. What is amusement but another name for happiness ? ' Miss Hermitage said. ' Why was I unhappy in my youth ? Because I never got any amusement.

Why am I as happy now as the day is long, though but a withered old woman ? Because I am amused.' ' Then we will wear as many jewels as we can carry, and never mind the preposterous figure we make,' Artha DISARMED said, culling one or two trinkets of unusual size and splendour. ' We will wear this, and this, and this,' she added, adjusting circlet and star, clasp and aigrette. ' You are a perpetual riddle, Artha. I do believe you are the only person in the house not afraid of me.' 'Why should I be afraid of you, or any one ? You can only send me away. I do not wish to go. But I must be unconcerned and outspoken, sometimes. Well, yes, preposterous was too plain a word to use ' ' Never mind the word. One thing is certain. I hear all your sharp speeches. You can say nothing harder of me out of hearing.' ' These diamonds set off your velvet gown mightily,' Artha said, paying no heed to the last remark. ' Yes, after all, age, not youth, is the time for jewels I They fascinate people's eyes and turn their attention from deficiencies.

They do the sparkling we cannot do for ourselves. One, just one more ornament, dearest Gossip! This diamond spray in your head-dress ; and just one more — this dew-drop, it is nothing else — to glisten in your chemisette.' 'As you please, Miss Impertinent. That1 was not a stupid question Valerian put just now. What would have become of you had you been born dull ? We had been talking of it just before, Colette and I, and saying how lucky it is that you can earn so much, and with all your family encumbrances and responsibilities, too ! But now every one is dying to get you — I mean my old cousin, Mr Constantine, and my young cousin, Stephana — the Countess, as we should call her.' ' I love Mr Constantine, and the Countess Stephana bewitches me. But you are a good mistress. I will stay with you till you turn me away.' DISARMED 7 ' I shall not turn you away,' was the good-natured reply. ' That is to say, so long as you amuse me.

I must be amused.' 'We will amuse you,' Artha said, gaily. 'It would be hard, indeed, if we could not amuse ourselves when money drops from the trees like ripe apples.' ' Money does not seem to have much to do with it. Who so light-hearted as yourself ? ' 'I think people are like flints,' Artha made quick reply, with that piquant gravity as natural to her as exuberant mirth. ' You must crush them to make the sparks fly.' ' My dear Artha, who has crushed you ? Your father had a sweet temper, you say, although he was a sad — but never mind ; and your step-mother is as harm less as a pet tortoise.' ' Oh ! I was not thinking of human beings, but circumstances. I am the luckiest person in the world ; still,' here the young face clouded, ' what if I should fall ill, should die, my father's debts unpaid, my little brother and sister uneducated, my step-mother helpless as a baby ? ' ' Well, you are not in the least likely to die just yet, so let us go downstairs and enjoy ourselves.

You answer for it that no one will be bored. The opening night of a season is critical.' But Artha only laughed away these misgivings. Always gayest after a pensive thought, to-night she seemed irrepressible. Crushed or no, the sparks flew in all directions. On the threshold of the dining-room, just as she had opened the door for Miss Hermitage, she saw Valerian coming out of his stud}-. Closing the door after her DISARMED mistress without shutting it, she awaited him, just to say, with extraordinary hauteur — ' You may be as dull as you please, Mr Valerian, but incivility before Miss Hermitage's guests is quite another matter. You remember the conditions on which you hired me into her service ? ' He bowed, even more frigid than herself. ' I hope I know my duties as host without having to come to you for instruction,' he said.

Then he opened the door ; and Colette, looking tremblingly from one to the other, saw that at least they had made up their minds to a show of courtsey.

Chapter II

Flirtation is of every age ; and Miss Hermitage, who had been starved at seventeen, could eat and be filled at seventy. The ineffable pastime of coquetry has no season, and may be indulged in when wigs are set as a snare, instead of sunny curls or locks Hyperion ; and we smile adoringly with lips parted, showing ivory not our own. Miss Hermitage was now amused in right good earnest. There were bright-eyed maidens and sumptuous matrons in her salon, a fair company, arrayed with the respect due to the richest hostess in the place. One acknowledged beauty and one finished coquette were there, of course ; what assemblage was ever without ? But alike lovely dimples and queenly figures, arch smiles and eyes irresistible, were neglected for the oldest woman present. The irony of the situation pleased Miss Hermitage.

There she sat, like a young and beautiful queen on her throne, one knight holding her fan, another her bouquet, a third protecting her complexion from the fire by a hand-screen, a fourth seated obsequiously at her feet. These clerical henchmen, however, would not on the morrow make merry at their hostess's expense. A rich old maid is a Golconda — a river flowing over golden sands — to curates. Miss Hermitage was safe from fairer DISARMED rivals in these hearts, beating calmly, strangers to passion. She accepted the chivalrous homage, whether lay or clerical, now paid to her, smiling inwardly. The irony of it ! In girlhood neglected, in middle life forlorn, in old age feted, flattered, befooled ! The dazzling evening had reached its acme when two figures brought a new and romantic element into play.

Up to a certain degree, outward uniformity and common placeness must stamp every company in which the men and women are dressed precisely after the same fashion. Here, without any effect being intended, came one of those happy surprises, of itself enough to enliven the dullest fellowship. Among the latest to do homage to their new sovereign was a small, spare man, of odd yet imposing appearance. He was so old that his dress, which for the most part belonged to the last century, did not look antiquated ; nor were his manners wholly of this. Ceremonious, couitly, fastidious, he went through his social observances with a mixture of airiness and solemnity that suited his costume ; scrupulously fitting black silk hose, black knee-breeches, long-lappeted coat of silky black cloth, and on his bosom ruffles of finest lawn, amid which sparkled a diamond pin.

Diamonds also adorned his shoe-buckles. But, engaging as was his general appear ance, the features of the old cavalier attracted still more. Carved ivory were not finer, more delicate, than this small, rare physiognomy, nor smoothest vellum of more harmonious texture than the complexion of his beardless cheek. He wore no wig to hide the baldness of a beautifully-shaped head, and his carriage was erect as that of a soldier. This dainty apparition now stood before the lady of DISARMED 11 the house, kissing her hand and bowing low. The little knot of admirers made way, and Mr Constantine sat down beside Miss Hermitage. ' Praise me, cousin,' he began. 'I have risen from my bed — I was going to say my grave — to pay my respects to you. Pray be congratulated. A brilliant assemblage, and superbly entertained ; whilst as regards vour own appearance it is faultless.' He bowed low to the diamonds.

Miss Hermitage laughed. ' It all amuses me. Why should it not ? ' ' Why not indeed ? I see with pleasure, too, that the family plate is at last called into requisition ; for I confess that I stopped on my way to invigorate my old frame with a sip of your excellent Madeira. The gold and silver service, the crystal, the exotics — everything matches to a nicety ! ' 'I have not lifted a finger. Valerian and Artha arranged everything.' ' Ah ! that incomparable creature with the legendary name. She ministered to my wants and flitted about me so charmingly just now that I fairly lost my head.' ' You are welcome to lose your head, Constantine, but I cannot lose Artha. I divine your covert meaning, Jesuit that you are ! The girl is worth half my fortune to me.' ' You are too rich, Christina. You have an admirable steward in your second cousin — nephew, I should say — ' ' Valerian and I call each other cousins.

I will be nobody's aunt,' Miss Hermitage said, tartly. At is a venerable title — a responsible title, and not to my taste.' ' I ask pardon. Then there is that ingenious, chirping DISARMED little Frenchwoman, the dear creature I heard playing so divinely just now — you have her.' ' I could no more do without Colette than I could do without the other two. We have known each other for fifty years.' ' Oh, misnamed Christina ! You will not then spare me one out of the matchless three ? ' ' Cleverness is to be had for money. Go to the right market and bid for it, as I have done.' ' Cleverness, yes. But wit, sprightliness, bewitching audacity — where can I find a paragon ? Well, go your ways. When I am laid — it may be to-morrow — in my narrow bed, you will repent. ' Poor Constantine ! ' you will say; ' if I had only humoured him ! ' ' Indeed, I shall never think of you in your narrow bed.

What good would it do ? ' ' Take me to your bosom now, then,' said the old man, playfully. ' Make my few remaining days happy. I would go to the length of marrying you, cousin — on my soul, I would — for the sake of being cheered by that prettv, pretty thing.' ' I am much obliged to you ; I will go to the length of saying that you may come and see me as often as you please, in order to enjoy Artha's society,' Miss Hermitage said, with extreme good-nature. 'But here comes Stephana! Constantine and Stephana ! Will the stars fall next ? I am indeed honoured.' ' I will offer my respects to our kinswoman later. Your Madeira tempts me once more downstairs.' So saying, Mr Constantine, doing reverence to his hostess after the stately fashion of several generations ago, made way for the second apparition in Miss Hermitage's crowded reception rooms.

For the pale, pensive lady, DISAR.MED 13 almost unearthly looking in her sadness, was also phenomenal in her dress. There were scores of white dresses in the room, not one in the least like the white robe of Stephana. Other women wore pearls ; her pearls seemed a part of her ; and in her whole appearance, from the white flower shining in her dark hair and on her bosom to the diaphanous drapery floating about her like a cloud, was something shadowy, spirit-like, almost ghost-like, if a fair, breathing creature can be compared to a ghost. ' My dear Stephana ! I am glad to see that you have not quite given up this wicked world ! And we are to be neighbours, I hear?' Stephana sat down, holding her cousin's hand, and fixing her large, brown, penetrating eyes upon her. ' I am glad also to spend some time near you.

Then your travels are over ? ' ' Yes ; I shall never travel in foreign parts any more — unless to Paris. In ten years I have seen every place I wanted to see. I intend now to settle down and amuse myself for the rest of my life. I am the richest woman in the county, and I mean to get the utmost entertain ment possible out of my money.' The large mesmerising eyes of Stephana were still fastened on Miss Hermitage. ' Such large-hearted hospitality is much needed here. You will do real good,' she added, gently. ' Now, Stephana, please do not talk to me about doing good. I do mycharities handsomely to ease my conscience, and there the matter ends. I am always interested to see you, my dear, but the very word philanthropy drives me mad.' Stephana smiled away the other's asperity, and changed the subject.

DISARMED 14 ' Were you happy in Italy, on the Nile, in Dresden ? ' she asked. ' I was amused, if that is what you mean. Valerian and Colette managed everything beautifully for me. I never had a dull moment.' ' And I am sure you can never be dull now. That charming Artha who came with your messages ! I fell in love with her at once. It is just the nature that does me good to come in contact with.' 1 Quite useless for any one to fall in love with Artha,' Miss Hermitage said, unwarrantably emphatic ; ' she is necessary to me, and nothing in the world shall induce me to part with her.' 'You are happy indeed to find Arthas,' Stephana answered, resignedly. Miss Hermitage dropped her voice almost to a whisper. ' You need not be lonely. Marry again. But now let us confabulate no longer. I am beholden to show my self ; you also, as one of the house.' The pair rose, and Miss Hermitage, passing her arm within that of her tall and beautiful conductress, went from one room to another.

She had her especial reasons for looking after Valerian and Artha. ' Mind,' she had whispered to her steward, ' be civil to Artha before our guests. She would be quite useless to me unless treated exactly on the same footing as yourself. The first person who flouts her shall be struck off my visiting list.' She saw now with infinite satisfaction that after setting conversation a-going in the large salon, Valerian was making much of Artha among the young people. Colette, always gay and initiative where music was concerned, had improvised a carpet dance. There was Valerian leading Artha through the labyrinth of a DISARMED 15 cotillion, certainly without a smile on his face, yet cordial enough for the occasion. The dance over, he was intro ducing her to a partner here, a stately chaperone there, Artha smiling graciously. ' A wonderful piece of acting !

Who would suppose that they hated each other ? ' Miss Hermitage mused. She was well pleased with both, as she continued her survey. Apparently without any effort, they had made the evening full of happy surprises, of which the im promptu ball was but one.

Chapter III

Meantime, Mr Constantine and Stephana, finding a quiet corner behind the camellias and the crystal, talked easily. ' Welcome home, sweet Mystic ! ' said the old cavalier, lifting her hand to his lips. ' We have come hither, Christina and I, because we could find no pleasanter place to die in. But what brings you from Italy, from the world ? ' ' Say, rather, to the world,' Stephana said, glancing at the crowded rooms beyond. ' Who can give reasons for going anywhere who has no reason for going to one place more than another ? But one motive I had in coming here. It was to be near the only kinsfolk I have.' ' Say you love me the best of the three, Stephana.' ' You have always been kindness itself to me,' said Stephana, by way of answer. ' I have been kind to everybody, my dear,' Mr Con stantine replied, dropping his voice. ' You are a married woman ; I may say anything to you.

I have not shone in the domestic moralities. But I have never been morose ; I have done good-natured things.' 'And now you want praise for being kind and virtuous, too. But as you know, I expect more of people. I insist on a soul.' DISAR.MED 17 ' Only come and see me often, cheer my solitude, dear Santa Teresa, and I warrant you the soul shall be found. I am too lonely.' Stephana's eye moistened with tenderness as she laid one hand on her companion's arm. 'I will come as often as you please, cousin Constantine, and bring that naive Artha with me. She will amuse you.' 'Ah! that is what I want — a little genuine amusement. I know, I feel, that you can mesmerise people with those eyes of yours. Force Christina to give up Artha to me. My cup would then overflow.' Just then Valerian appeared, with Artha on his arm.

The tcte-a-tcte was broken. Artha, taken possession of by Mr Constantine, was delighting him with her mirthful sallies. Valerian dropped into a chair by Stephana's side, and chatted after cousinly fashion. ' I am sure we have all done the very best thing in coming to this place,' he began. ' The sea is the only bribe for living in England; and we are here so near London, that we can run up in an hour. Our cousin is enchanted with all my arrangements.' ' You have a genius for making life agreeable,' smiled Stephana. ' I may without flattery say that I have. But I hope, my lady cousin, that you find no difficulty in enjoying your own handsome fortune ? ' asked Valerian, much as if he were inquiring after her health. ' I certainly enjoy it as well as I have any right to do.' ' Oh ! ' if vou go to the root of the matter, you will never enjoy anything,' Valerian said. ' You must let me teach you a little of my philosophy.' B DISARMED ' Rather of the world, worldly, I fear,' Stephana made smiling reply. ' Can any true philosophy be otherwise ? ' laughed Valerian. 'We are of the world; we must live in it, although I believe you do hold intercourse with finer spirits ? ' Stephana would fain have checked the playful speech, under which, she knew, lurked a certain grave meaning. ' Why reluct at the beautiful imputation?' he began. ' Were you not in Rome exactly a year ago ? ' Stephana assented. ' And were you not obliged to flee like an outlaw because of these gifts, spiritual, supernatural — call them what you will ? ' Stephana held her peace.

Valerian laughed lightly. ' A little bird whispered in my ear that you feared the enviable fame thus acquired might bind you to Rome for ever, keep you a perpetual prisoner there, like the Pope. But not a syllable more, since it displeases you. Take my arm, and let me introduce you to some of our guests, one also, like yourself, from Rome.' The last sentence was carelessly uttered and carelessly listened to. Then Valerian made way with his com panion towards the music-room. What could be going on there ? Piano and violin were hushed. Alike dance and song were over. Yet the doorway was thronged with hungry listeners and the air breathed expectation. ' Listen ! ' Valerian whispered ; 'it is our Roman friend the blind improvisator. You knew him ; you must have heard of his wonderful story-telling ? ' The pair stood still, and the narrator began.

Was he using rhyme or prose ? His listeners hardly DISARMED 19 knew. They were only conscious of a marvellous voice, music itself, that held them spell-bound, and of a sad, sensitive face that seemed to see, though only inner light could now irradiate it. Talk not of the cheerfulness of the blind. What deep, pathetic pensiveness is stamped, must be stamped, on the brow of the sightless ! ' Just a year ago, then,' began Valerian's guest, ' all the world — I mean the world of Rome — was horror-stricken by one of those problematic trials that happen once in a generation, as if to teach us the irony of human justice. A fratricide had been committed under circumstances so strange, that whilst, in men's minds, the real murderer was convicted past doubt, the evidence of the law fastened the crime upon another.

Never, humanly speaking, could anything be clearer than that here the innocent was about to suffer in the place of the guilty. Never was a stronger case made out by the lawyers. ' The eldest of three rich brothers is foully murdered, and the deed, it was plain, could only have been committed by one of the survivors, both of whom had equal pecu niary interest in the death. But by which ? By him of stainless reputation, austere morality, the devout church man and lavish almsgiver, the, wearer of well-earned civic honours ? Or by the graceless spendthrift, his younger brother, the hero of a thousand disreputable adventures, the frequenter of taverns and casinos, the wild wooer of every pretty girl in Rome ? ' Now, it so happened, although I cannot go into details, that, putting aside such damning testimony, circum stantial evidence pointed out the younger brother as the doer of the deed ; whilst public opinion leaned the other way.