A New Othello. A novel

Front matter

Jl "glouel. r.v 1ZA DUFFUS HARDY, AUTHOR OF "LOVE, HONOUR AND OBEY," "HEARTS OR DIAMONDS? 'THE LOVE THAT HE PASSED BY," "ORANGES AND ALLIGATORS," "LOVE IN IDLENESS," ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : F. V. WHITE & CO., 31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, AV.O. 1890. [All rights reserved.'] HUNTED BY KELLY AND CO,, MIDDLE MILL, KINGSTON-ON-TIIAMES, AND GATE STREET LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, W.C. CONTENTS. chap. PAG_ I. — The Fairest Face . . . . .1 II. — Fellow-Travellers ..... 24 III.— The Family Circle . . . . .53 IV. — Dn. Fitzallan . . . . . 71 V.- Under the Spell ... .95 VI.—" Home, Sweet Home ! " ' . . . . 120 VII. — Two Women's Hearts ..... 144 VIII. — "She Shines Me Down! " .... 172 IX. — "A Bright Particulae Star!" . . . 197 X.—" Alas! how easily things go wrong!" . . POPULAR J^IEW jMOVELS.

Now Ready, in One Vol., the Seventh Edition of ARMY SOCIETY ; or, Life in a Garrison Town. By John Strange Winter, Author of "Booties' Baby." Cloth gilt, Gs.; also picture boards, 2*. Also now ready, in cloth gilt, '2s. fid. each. GARRISON GOSSIP, Gathered in Blankhampton. By JOHN Strange Winter. Also picture boards, 2s. A SIEGE BABY. By the same Author. Also picture boards, 2s. BEAUTIFUL JIM. By the same Author. Also picture boards, 2*. MRS. BOB. By the same AUTHOR. BY WOMAN'S WIT. By Mrs. ALEXANDER, Author of "The Wooing O't." Also picture boards, 2s. MONA'S CHOICE. By the same Author. Also picture boards, 2s. A LIFE INTEREST. By the same AUTHOR. KILLED IN THE OPEN. By Mrs. EDWARD KENNARD. Also picture boards, 2s. THE GIRL IN THE BROWN HABIT. A Sporting Novel. By the same Author. Also picture hoards, 2s. A REAL GOOD THING.

By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. A CRACK COUNTY. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. STRAIGHT AS A DIE. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. OUR FRIENDS IN THE HUNTING FIELD. By the same AUTHOR LANDING A PRIZE. By the same AUTHOR. TWILIGHT TALES. By the same AUTHOR, Illustrated. IN A GRASS COUNTRY. By Mrs. H. LOVETT-CAMERON. Also picture boards, 2s. A' DEVOUT LOVER. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards, 2s. THE COST OF A LIE. By the same AUTHOR. Also picture boards' 2s THIS WICKED WORLD. By the same AUTHOR. A LOST WIFE. By the same AUTHOR. THE OUTSIDER. By HAWLEY SMART. Also picture boards 2s THE MASTER OF RATHKELLY. By the same AUTHOR. LONG ODDS. By the same AUTHOR. SHE CAME BETWEEN. By Mrs. ALEXANDER Fraser. DAUGHTERS OF BELGRAVIA. By the same AUTHOR. THE CRUSADE OF THE "EXCELSIOR."

Chapter I. The Fairest Face

" And Pelleas, gazing, thought, ' Is Guinevere herself so beautiful ? ' " The time is mid-day ; the season, spring ; the place, New York harbour ; the scene, the deck of one of the great Atlantic liners lying in dock, about to sail on her homeward voyage — a busy scene of crowd, bustle and confusion. The whole length of the long wharf is black with people, ranks on ranks of lookers-on — loafers, idlers, interested or merely curious spectators — packed together in a solid mass, waiting to witness the departure of the ocean giant Ashore there is an ear-bewildering tumult and turmoil, as carts, carriages, trucks, drays and vans, which have brought passengers, passengers' VOL. I. friends, goods, chattels and baggage, to the landing-stage, are all entangled and jammed in apparently inextricable confusion, whilst all the drivers seem to be trying to outshout and out swear each other.

On board there is not quite so much noise, although as much bustle, as a moving multitude, thick as swarming bees, surge up and down the stairs, stream along the passages, and pour in and out of the cabins. The saloon is filled, the companion-way well-nigh blocked ; but on deck the crowd can circulate more freely. Every passenger has a party, large or small, of friends who have come on board to indulge in adieux and au revoirs at leisure and until the last minute. " Not in single spies, but in battalions," do the Americans rally round their departing friends. None so poor and so obscure as not to be " seen off" by some one ; none so lonely as to be left to set sail alone. Even the stranger who has " tarried but a day " in the hospitable city of New York, who has rushed through the " grand tour" of the Transatlantic world without time to form a friendship or enjoy an insight into American social life, has picked up somehow a handful of acquaintances — and here they are, faithful, to the fore, come to see the wanderer off.

On the deck, surveying the animated scene with that measured degree of interest which the travelling Briton generally permits himself to betray, are standing two men, English both, and English gentlemen too, as it does not need a second glance to tell. They are both of about the same stature, close on six feet hi height ; and there is a certain family resemblance in feature, not in colouring, nor in expression, between them. One is a broad-shouldered, deep-chested, fair-haired Saxon, in the early prime of life, good looking enough to pass muster in a roll-call of handsome men — more especially if the roll were called by the mothers of daughters — mothers parentally awake to his position and prospects. He has an air of lazy good-humour and some what inert strength — inert only because it does not seem to him worth while to exert it.

The other is a few years younger, and of slighter, although scarcely weaker build, lither in figure, quicker in movement, with darker hair and eyes, and more vivacity and mobility of expression, yet bearing that unmistakable family likeness to his fair haired and stalwart companion. They are uncle and nephew ; but the equal affection and good comradeship between them is more hke that of two brothers when brothers are 1—2 also thorough friends. They are " not much addicted to conversation," these fellow-travellers. When they have got anything to say, they say it ; but they are not given to making talk for talking's sake. So they are standing side by side, contemplating the busy scene in sociable silence ; at least the uncle is looking on at the crowd in general, the nephew at one of its individual items in particular — a woman, young and tall and fair, in an unexceptionable and becoming grey dress, who has caught and fixed his roving attention — when a third Englishman, who is lounging along the deck glancing about him in the moving throng, casts his eye on the elder of our two travellers and comes to a halt.

" Why, hullo, Carresford ! " Geoffrey Carresford replies by an equally eloquent and original greeting : " Hullo, Rockleigh ! " " Who'd have thought of seeing you here ? Going across ? " inquires Lord Rockleigh, with a vague jerk of his head in the direction wherein he supposes England to he. " Yes ; we're homeward bound. Heard you were in New York, but didn't know you'd be going over on the same boat. This is Ray — don't you remember the youngster, Ray Percival ? " " By George, I do," rephes Rockleigh heartily, holding out his hand. " I should scarcely have known him at first, though. Come and see Lady Rockleigh — she's just over there." Geoffrey Carresford accompanies him readily, but young Percival steals a glance over his shoulder at the face which has attracted him as he more slowly and even reluctantly follows, regarding the probability of losing sight of " that girl in grey " in the crowd.

" Here she is," says Lord Rockleigh. " Maud, I've brought my old schoolfellow, Mr. Carres ford — and Mr. Percival," he adds, glancing round in search of his other companion, " to introduce to you." Then as Lady Rockleigh bows graciously and extends a daintily-gloved hand, her husband includes a young lady who stands by her side in the introduction, saying : " My niece — Lady May Rivers." Lord Rockleigh is by no means as favourable a specimen of English manhood as either of these two compatriots of his whom he has just pre sented to the ladies of his party. He is, to say the truth, an ugly little man ; but he has a wife who, with all the adjuncts of dress and those mysteries of the toilette into which the masculine mind does not as a rule inquire too closely, may fairly pass as a beauty. She pos sesses still — thanks to either art or nature, or a happy combination of both — as blooming a com plexion and as luxuriant golden hair as in her youth, which has certainly passed by, though it would be indiscreet to inquire how long ago it took its leave.

Lady May Rivers is young and fair — one of the fortunate many who charm without perfection of feature ; nay, more than that, who charm in despite of several httle imperfections ; but the critic would be stern indeed who could sit as a Daniel in judgment upon that face, or could retain his critical faculties at all when looking into those eyes — large eyes of soft and limpid brown, shaded by long curling lashes. The brown hair, touched with gold, just matches them in hue. There is a delicious dimple like a baby's in the rounded cheek, a sweet half wistful expression about the full rose hps, which being always half parted, give her a child -like and guileless look. Her aspect altogether is one of alluring and appeahng softness — than which nothing can be further removed from mawkish ness or insipidity — brightened by httle sparkles of half-demure, half-mischievous, playfulness.

A bewitching little woman is Lady May Rivers ; and Mr. Carresford mentally pronounces a favourable verdict on her appearance, whilst regarding her perhaps rather approvingly than admiringly. He is very well used to pretty women, and also to finding himself appreciated by them ; and he is not easily moved to any thing more enthusiastic than the temperate but sincere approbation he bestows now on Lady Rockleigh's early-widowed niece — for a widow this girl is, although she has cast off her weeds. She is in reality my lady's niece, not his lord ship's, although the latter by adoption and affection regards and always speaks of her as " his " niece. Mr. Carresford smoothes his heavy tawny moustache as he looks down into the piquante alluring httle face, and makes some casual remark apropos of their " all going across."

" Yes ; fellow-victims ! " she smiles. " Are you a victim, Lady May ? " " Unless the Atlantic deals tenderly with me." " I'm sure it — it ought to," he replies ; and it is the first time he has ever stumbled into any thing even so remotely approaching a compliment on three minutes' acquaintance. " The ocean is unluckily feminine ; one can't expect chivalrous consideration from it," she rejoins. The voice is as demurely and archly sweet as the upward glance of her eyes ; but to promise chivalrous consideration for his own poor part would be far too great a stretch of demonstration for Geoffrey Carresford at his present stage of development ; so he neglects the tempting open ing afforded him, and merely observes that he " hopes they'll have a smooth passage and all get along well." That he will " get along well " with Lady May Rivers he feels satisfactorily sure, even on this brief acquaintance.

Meanwhile, Raymond Percival (christened as John Raymond, but always and only known among his own people as "Ray") is dutifully paying his homage to Lady Rockleigh, who accepts it graciously. He has more to say than his uncle Geoffrey — this is not going very far on Ray's behalf — and says it with more apparent interest. He has a winning smile, a bright frankness of manner, and just that mingling of self-assurance and deference which seldom fails to please women, and does not fail with Lady Rockleigh now. There is not, however, much opportunity for cultivating the new acquaintance at the present moment, as a battalion of New York friends here make their appearance, laden with bouquets for the Rockleigh party ; and hardly have their floral offerings been presented, when the agent of the company brings the captain to be specially introduced to these his evidently favoured passengers.

They are speedily surrounded and swallowed up in a crowd of friends. Lady Rockleigh smiles on the captain, a big, bronzed, splendid old sea-dog, and speaks him fair, while Lady May, her hands full of flowers, is hemmed in by a circle of attentive cavaliers, out of which circle Mr. Carresford quickly drifts. Lady May Rivers is lovely, certainly ; but it is too much trouble to hold his own in the brisk fire of mixed badinage, sentiment and travellers' small-talk which is going on around her ; so he falls aside, and presently looking round for his nephew, perceives that young man's brown tweed back disappearing in the distance. Mr. Percival has indeed promptly returned on the track of his unknown beauty, and when Carresford comes up with him he has taken up his post, with his back against the bulwarks and a settled air of remain ing there, his eyes fixed on the wide-open door of the companion-way just opposite, on the threshold of which she stands, glancing up and down the deck as if in search of some one.

" Hullo, young man, what are you glowering at ? " Geoffrey demands in his bluff, hearty way. " That girl, the one in grey, Geoff," is the frank reply, given in a discreetly lowered tone. " Isn't she " he pauses for an adjective. " The one in grey ! H'm, not bad-looking," says Mr. Carresford royally. The lady is tall, pale, slender ; to his cursory and indifferent glance, hers seems but a cold and colourless style of good looks, he would not go so far as to call it beauty. For a few moments she remains in full view of our two travellers ; then a couple of middle aged ladies and a young man make their appearance on the scene and surround her with eager greetings. These friends are evidently the objects of her search, and with them she disappears downstairs and is lost to Mr. Percival's admiring gaze.

The commotion on deck and ashore increases as the moment of departure draws near. A bell clangs out the signal that the time has come to separate the chaff from the grain. Until this minute they have been inextricably mixed. Passengers and passengers' friends have herded together in sociable confusion. Now, as the stentorian shout, " All for the shore ! " rings along the vessel, a general flutter and hurry stirs the swarming crowd ; there is a hubbub of last words, a profuse display of pocket-handkerchiefs, wherewith some " contrive a double debt to pay," wiping tears and waving in parting salutation. Nobody cries over Messrs. Carresford and Percival ; they are on their way back to all the women who are at present likely to weep about them, now that they have set their faces for home, to mother and sisters waiting there.

Neither does any one weep over the Rockleigh party, although two or three men hnger regretfully to the very last round Lady May Rivers. Ray Percival, leaning over the bulwarks, watching the de parting passengers' friends pour in a steady stream across the plank, observes the two ladies and the young man with whom his unknown beauty disappeared from his view pass ashore without her. So she is going across ! they will be fellow-voyagers ! As he is thinking this, and following these her friends or relatives with his eyes, they turn and wave hands in his direction. He looks round quickly, and a httle way behind him stands the object of his admiration, the tall pale girl in grey. She is glancing along the serried ranks of passengers in front of her who line the shoreward bulwarks, wedged elbow to elbow, leaning over and gazing " with all their eyes ; " she is evidently in search of a place for herself.

Mr. Percival pounces on this opportunity as a cat upon a mouse. " Will you take this place ? " he says courte ously, falling back to make way for her. She gives him a smile of gracious acknowledgment, a brief word of thanks, as she avails herself of his offer, and he manages to hold his position close to her. She immediately takes out her handkerchief, and he observes, with an unreasonable degree of interest, that its purpose is not to wipe away a tear, but to wave to her friends, and that she seems quite unaffected by the parting. She is smiling as she waves her farewell to the trio on shore. Evidently, whatever relationship they may bear to her, she is not broken-hearted at leaving them. Standing at her very elbow now as he does, he can enjoy, without any appearance of ill-breeding or staring, a thoroughly good view of the face that has charmed him at first sight.

It is not a face to fascinate any and every man. Not without reason has Geoffrey Carresford mentally pro nounced her, on his first glance, " cold and colourless." The thick coils of hair rolled up under her hat are of a dead-leaf brown, without any brightening warmth of russet or glow of gold. Her hps are of the paler coral hue, not the more vivid ripe-cherry red. Her complexion, although fine and flawless, is of that smooth ivory paleness which lacks charm to those whose ideal is the transparently fair skin, through which they can see the hve rose-hues pulse and pale. Her hair grows low in large ripples over a broad white forehead ; her grey eyes look out with a calm, steadfast, somewhat dreamy look from under level brows ; her features are of the statuesque order ; mobihty and vivacity are not their characteristics ; her general expression, serene and sweet, has withal a touch of pride and seriousness, even approaching sadness.

Her face has the clearness, the smoothness, the pure curves of early youth, but that expression is the look of womanhood. It is " A face that never can grow old, And never yet has been quite young ! " Yet this pale, calm, colourless face, when once men gaze upon it and feel the spell of its beauty, seems to take the colour out of the brighter, fresher faces near. When once men meet the full look of the deep, soft grey eyes, they are apt to long to fathom those dreamy depths, and spark linsf blue and vivacious black seem shallow beside them. Ray Percival is casting about in his mind for an excuse to address her, an appropriate remark wherewith to initiate an acquaintance, when another passenger, the gentleman on her other side, who clearly is not troubled with the British stiffness and shyness which occasionally em barrass our countrymen, takes the initiative, and opens conversation by a sociable and friendly observation : " Big crowd, eh, ma'am ?

" Receiving a smile and a monosyllabic assent in response, he continues : " Now I hke to see a good send-off hke this ! Seems to start us well. Been across before, » n J) ma am r Another affirmative. Mr. Percival ought to be more grateful to this discoursive fellow-traveller than he is, as example encourages him to join in the conversation by remarking, what everybody can see, that the gangway is withdrawn and they are " off." The excitement of the important moment of starting is most successful in breaking down all barriers of form and ceremony ; and in a few minutes he finds himself in full flow of small-talk with his unknown beauty and with the loquacious passenger, who indeed plays the leading role in the conversation, as he is alike willing to confide his own feelings, plans, hopes and fears, and to inquire into those of his companions.

He gives them a good deal of autobiographical information about his previous voyages, their objects and results, but the lady contributes no autobio graphical details at all ; she is quiet and reserved, though not repellant in manner, and all the in formation that Ray Percival can gather about her is that she is American, but has spent some years in Europe, and that this is her third voyage. Meanwhile, a dozen yards further along the deck, Mr. Carresford has got a place in the front rank beside Lady May. " What have you done with all your bouquets ? " he asks her. " You had a whole con servatory full of flowers." " Some adorn the saloon, and some my cabin." " The favoured ones ? " " Are they favoured ? They will be thrown overboard to-morrow, if not to-night." " Is that how you treat your favourites ?

" " They have their day," she rephes with a soft laugh. " And are thrown over ? " " What other end is there for — bouquets ? " " People in poetry and novels treasure up withered flowers, don't they ? " observes Geoffrey, who never reads either a poem or a novel. " It depends a little on the giver," rejoins Lady May, who is pretty enough and bright enough to introduce httle suggestions of sentiment with successful and airy lightness of touch. Mr. Carresford, however, does not rise to this bait, and she continues smoothly, " Dead dried up roses all look so much ahke that if one treasures them in the plural without docketing, dating and initialing them, one gets so mixed ! " He meets her arch and laughing glance, in which an alluring softness always underhes the mirth ; he smiles too, and his honest blue eyes betray that he is well satisfied with the prospect of their being fellow-voyagers.

The giant vessel glides, slow and stately, past the long, crowded wharves, the last of which stretches out hke a huge pointing finger, pointing the way to the open ocean. To the last inch the quays are black with people, flecked with fluttering white of waving handkerchiefs. Ray Per cival, carried away by the infectious excitement round him, waves his handkerchief vaguely and vigorously to no one in particular, exclaiming : " Good-bye to America ! " " Are you glad ? " his fair neighbour asks him, with a brief kindly glance from the large grey eyes. " Why should you think I am glad ? " " Because you are going home. You are English, are you not ? " " Yes," replies Ray, who does not mean to betray by his tone that he would be very sorry to be mistaken for anything else. Presently, when the black crowd and the white handkerchiefs have all faded into a dull grey blur, the luncheon-bell summons the hungry passengers to the saloon.

Mr. Carresford and Mr. Percival find themselves honoured by places at the cap tain's table, where of course the Rockleigh party are seated, Lady Rockleigh at the captain's right hand, her lord opposite, and Lady May beside her. Next to Lady May sits Geoffrey, then Ray, and next to him, to his great satisfaction, his grey-eyed beauty, who favours him with a recog nizing smile as she slips into her revolving chair. The saloon is gaily decorated with flowers, the VOL. I. long tables brilliant with polished silver and glass ; beside each plate hes a gilt-edged menu and a copy of that interesting study, the passen ger-list The usual canary swings and sings in his gilt cage to cheer the voyagers. Next day it is probable that for too many of them he will trill and twitter in vain ; but to-day, gliding over the placid water of the bay, every one seems happy and lively.

The regiment of well-trained stewards run about with military discipline ; there is a cheerful clatter of knives and forks, a brisk patter and babble of conversation going on, as friends and families talk together and solitary travellers make acquaintance. Opposite to the Rockleigh ladies sits a good looking, dark and dapper little man, the Honour able Algernon Vesey, who has attached himself to their party for the voyage ; and between him and Mr. Carresford, lovely Lady May is in her element. Ray Percival makes the most of his opportunities with his fair unknown ; and perhaps nowhere on dry land is the development of an acquaintance so swift and easy as at sea. So many are the questions of personal and mutual interest on ship -board, that strangers become intimate, the merest acquaintances friends, in a day.

Discussing the chances of fair weather or head-winds, comparing notes as to their previous oceanic experiences, Mr. Percival and the grey eyed beauty become quite friendly before the day is over — though not so friendly as Geoffrey Carresford and Lady May. Ray's unknown is of a very different type to the Lady May Rivers ; there is a staid self-possession about her, an appearance of hauteur which is really only a natural and habitual reserve, which offers a striking contrast to the pretty little widow's easy and fluent vivacity, with its vein of innocent coquetry, natural and unconscious as a child's. Who has not seen a mere baby manifest the feminine instinct of flirtation in its naive httle airs and graces ? Some women began coquetting in their nurses' arms, and will only coquette their last with the doctor who attends them in their final illness.

It is impossible for Lady May to look with quite the same eyes on a woman as on a man — esj)ecially if the man be a good-looking one. Orphaned and widowed while still young, the tears that she has shed have left her lovely eyes bright as ever, and given even an added charm of softness and wist fulness to her smile. The late Rivers, although he was generally considered to be a fairly good match for the Earl of Noland's pretty, but dower - 9 O less, orphan daughter, was many years older than she ; and his personal appearance was scarcely such as seemed likely to win the first love of a young and romantic girl ; thus it was probable that those people were not far from the truth who said that Lady May, though she had lived happily with her husband for the one year of their union, and sincerely wept at his death, and worn her widow's weeds even beyond the conventional period, had never known real love nor real grief.

It is evening now, the last of land is lost to sight ; the moon is high in the heavens, and the giant vessel glides smoothly over a sliming silver sea. All the passengers are on deck, except the unpoetic minority in the smoking-room, who prefer brandy-and-soda and cigars and "poker" to moonlight. Geoffrey Carresford is fortunate enough to be first in the field with Lady May, with whom he is enjoying a promenade, while Ray Percival has seized upon an opportunity and a chair next to the object of his admiration. They have struck a congenial vein of interest, and are deep in a discussion on the novelists and poets of the present day. It is a fortunate vein ; for she warms to the subjects ; their views regarding Tennyson, Longfellow, Browning and Swinburne prove to be generally in sympathy, if not ha quite perfect unison ; and the stream of conversation is in free and promising flow.

It is a delightful hour to Ray Percival, he has glimmerings of artistic perception of the fitness of things ; and it is pre-eminently fitting that on so lovely a night, at the outset of the voyage, he should be in congenial conversation with so beautiful a woman. The moon climbs higher " up the purple wralls of heaven," a broad track of sil very hght seems to lead them on their way, and point hke a promise to the far, far-off land that lies before them. How pure and clear her features look in the pearly moonlight ! how deep and dreamy her eyes ! and as she turns and raises her head, how exquisite is that " Pure wide curve from ear to chin ! " Ray's admiration is at this stage so purely ar tistic, so simple an appreciation of what in his eyes seems perfect beauty, that he does not chafe in the least at the utter impersonality of their conversation.

As far as words go, he might be discussing Longfellow and Browning with his grandmother — though he probably would not have looked in that venerable lady's face with quite the same eyes. This couple, contentedly absorbed in their literary discussion, attract the attention of another equally contented couple passing by. " Who is that lady Mr. Percival is talking to ? asks Lady May. " I don't know," Mr. Carresford replies ; " and I don't think he knows either. She sat next him at table ; she's a Yankee, though she hasn't much accent." " She is very handsome, don't you think ? " says Lady May. " H'm, I don't care much for those giraffe women — all long necks and big eyes and hollow cheeks ! " This description is in amusing contrast to the opinion which his nephew is at that moment mentally pronouncing : " She is just like one of Rossetti's beauties !