Lady Levallion

Chapter I Crowds

of people had already returned to London ; and ready to be amused for another summer, having thrown away their tribulations into the dust-bins of last year, they came with a sound as it were of cymbals, with an echo of laughter, and with a burst of colour like a sunrise. Though some were rich and some hard up, though some were robust and some a trifle impaired, though some were young and others looked fully sixor seven-and-thirty, they all alike, with one determination, were preparing to render life as merry as it might be for a season. London, full of movement, of amusement, of gaiety, was showing itself to considerable advantage to those who looked in the right direction for its advantages. But the world was London then ; and that being so, a good many of those who had repaired to it for their diversion would doubtless be induced to remember that it had its bores and its difficulties also here and there.

At any rate, one thing, to begin with, was eminently favourable. A May that had set in with unusual clemency was doing its best for everybody. The trees were in their freshest green, the soot seemed to have disappeared from all the streets of the West End, and every day was bright with the sun that shone in a cloudless and even a smokeless sky. The entertain ments were all forgivable, or at any rate had been forgiven; women were looking pretty and were feeling charming, as yet not tired ; and men had not yet met half the other men they did not care to meet. Nothing hitherto, indeed, had caused a regret to those who were established here once more for their three months of town ; for at this period the greatest and most urgent necessity of life appeared to be nothing but plenty of money or plenty of credit, its business nothing but to go everywhere, its duty nothing but to be well dressed and to be seen, its worry no worse than a yawn, a little envy, or a whim that conflicted with some other whim.

What was going to happen this year? This was the question that interested everybody. Who would be exalted ? who abased ? what would succeed, and what fail ? Who would emerge from the level of the throng to be cowned with bay-leaves ? and who would recede into dark oblivion, discrowned or forgotten, or both? Already a politician of eminence had collapsed, two or three sensational cases had been fought out in the law courts, a lion with very bad manners had arrived from the East, a dozen new beauties had worn outrageous garments in the Park, and several matrimonial engage ments had been declared, denied, and thoroughly discussed. But amongst this collection of interesting things the event which caused the greatest emotion, despair and excitement in fashionable bosoms was one which was duly announced in the papers by means of the following little paragraph, wedged in between the histories of a garden-party and a sudden death, in the section that began with the proceedings of the Court and ended with an advertisement of cocoa : " A marriage has been arranged and will shortly take place between the Marquis of Beckford and his second cousin, the Lady Florence Levallion, only daughter of the late Earl Levallion."

Strangers, out of recognition, out of the world, discoursed of the matter familiarly over their improving occupations and uncivilised repasts. Many friends were consumed with envy, but many foes sent the sweetest messages of congratulation to the happy mother ; and both alike began to wonder how much the presents which they would have to give would cost. In several of the most prominent shop-windows photographs of the couple were exhibited, wherein they reclined in attitudes of resignation on the seat, back and arms of an uncom fortable chair, and looked in the direction of each other, and tried to look as if they were not looking. Notorious milliners mused lustfully over the details of their pro spective bills ; fond letters in tinted envelopes and indifferent grammar were received in shoals from her girl-friends by the fiancee, who had not fortitude enough to persevere with so much friendship ; and certain im poverished bachelors made haste to get their last comfortable dinners out of the bridegroom-elect, who already was causing his houses to be regamished throughout with borrowed money, at ten per cent., and with marvellous upholstery from India, China, Persia and the Tottenham Court Road.

It was on a sultry afternoon, a few days after the announcement had been made, that streams of people, coming leisurely, stopped at a large house in Park Lane, and were ushered in at the door wide open beneath the dirty stucco caryatides which supported a dirty stucco balcony embellished with flowers. Beatrice, Lady Levallion, was at home from four to six. Beyond the tea-room, where many ladies impeded each other in their eagerness to secure some beverage in a Sevres cup of china made in crinkles, the immense staircase, with its balustrades of oak and figure-lamps in bronze, copied from Pompeii, was thronged with those who strove in the labour of its picturesque but long ascent ; and past the banks of palms and azaleas piled against the walls, whose niches contained various statues of Greek warriors in marble, there filed the lines of distinguished personages confused in a mass with all that was most illustrious from the ranks of successful industrialists and foreign Jews.

The drawing-rooms were rapidly being filled with them. There was the perpetual repetition of congratulations and pleasant wishes as they reached their hostess, who replied with her most amiable smiles and thanks. "We are so very glad," said some of the most intimate of them, " to hear of this. To think that Forence will be so happy — so truly happy ! And they must have been fond of each other for quite a long time ? " " Indeed, yes ; for ages," answered Lady Levallion, as she turned to say, " How do you do ? " to another person at her side. For a while after, when the rooms were already full, and while a ballad about " the years gone by " and " the loves that fly " was being robustly intoned by a corpulent tenor who perspired inside large bushes of hair and a turned-down collar, the names of fresh visitors were still being frequently announced.

The hostess had a graceful word for each. " Oh, thank you, Mrs. Carleen," said she to a pretty little well-dressed woman, who entered with the suavest felicitations on her tongue. " How kind of you to say so ! So good of you to wish such kind things for my darling child ! " " Indeed I wish them with all my heart, dear Lady Levallion," replied Mrs. Carleen benignly, who then, after a pathetic pressure of hands, inquired, " But tell me, where is Florence now ? I must really be one of the first to congratulate her and advise her, you know. We are such old friends, are we not ? " " To be sure ! " answered Lady Levallion. " I am certain she will be only too charmed to listen to any thing you may recommend her for her future." Then as Florence chanced to be passing down the room a few steps off, she called to her, " Florence !

" As soon as the girl turned round, Mrs. Carleen has tened towards her and led her to a seat in a quiet corner, where she said in a voice that was hushed and mysterious, like the voices of those who are at nones : " Oh, my dearest Flo ! what rapture ! I was just saying to your mother that I must be the first, the very first, to be associated with your happiness. Some day, too, I shall come and give you all the advice that may be useful to you later on, all those little counsels and warnings that a woman of my experience can give. I take such an interest in you, you know, both for your own and for your sweet mother's sake." " Oh, thank you," said Florence, without much enthusiasm. " Anything you say, Mrs. Carleen, I will do my best to follow out, as far as I can." Mrs. Carleen pressed her hand with' tenderness.

" Be sure I shall counsel you, dear," she answered sweetly. " I am so concerned always for your welfare that you must not object to anything I say, will you ? We are such old friends, are we not ? Of course you have been devotedly attached to Lord Beckford for years ? " Florence smiled and did not answer ; and Mrs. Carleen continued : " I knew it. He is so fascinating and so clever and intellectual ! No one could fail to admire him. Your character is so much like his ! Of course he is devoted to you, too ? " But Florence hesitated, and again the other proceeded : "I was convinced of that. How could he help admiring you ? He is — let me see — how old is he ? " "Twenty-one," said Florence briefly. " Ah ! just your age ! No, you are only eighteen, you say? Dear me, I am most forgetful. At any rate you are quite as charming, dear, as if you were ten years older or five years younger.

Who would have thought, now, that you would fall in love so soon? For of course you are head over ears in love, are you not?" " Oh, well, perhaps it is not quite so desperate as that," answered Florence, laughing. " But excuse me a moment," she added, as she got up rather hurriedly ; " I see some one over there, who " And without finishing her sentence audibly, she moved away to a remote seat by the side of some people who were almost strangers to her, in the next room. " A foolish girl ! " thought Mrs. Carleen, whose questions had been so inadequately answered, and whose curiosity was still so ill assuaged. And, noticing one of her most cherished friends, a Mrs. Dartmoor, seated not far off, she hastened to join her, and murmured softly as she arranged herself in the vacant seat at her side : " Are you not sorry for me ?

Imagine ! I have got to do the maternal style to this very foolish girl. I daresay you saw me persevering with her just now. Her mother is so shamefully frivolous, that I suppose all the burden, duty and responsibility of this business will fall on my own shoulders once more." Mrs. Dartmoor commiserated in her blandest voice. " My poor Isabel ! " she replied. " You cannot think how deeply I pity you. It is so trying to have to assume other people's duties for them, for they always turn round and abuse you in the end. But then you are so unselfish always ! " " If it were not all such a farce," said Mrs. Carleen, "one could enter into it more conscientiously. But what a farce! They do not care a straw for each other, you know. Oh, I am certain; Florence herself has just admitted it to me. Besides, is it any wonder ?

That Beckford is the most stupid boy in London. They say that when he was told he was going to be married, he answered: 'Oh, am I? All right. Have another game of billiards first.' Of course it is all the doing of this Beatrice Levallion, who is eaten up with ambition, and who would rather have seen her daughter drawn and quartered than have failed to make an advantageous marriage. It is really shameful, — not to say scandalous." She turned up her eyes, and sighed heavily. But the other woman was wondering whether the proximity of Mrs. Carleen's gown showed off her own to advantage, and she answered inappropriately : " You don't say so ? Fancy ! As if you had not got enough troubles already ! When I think of your husband, — by the way, how is he now ? He was ill a little while ago, surely — the influenza or some thing ?

" " Yes," replied Mrs. Carleen. " Typhoid fever. A great nuisance ! Men are always distressing one in some way or other. Look now at poor Lady Newhaven over there— yes, that is she, that fat, sallow woman who looks so vulgar — only imagine what she suffered with her wretch of a husband until he had the decency to run away with some dreadful Continental creature discovered in a second-rate Casino. Did she divorce him? I quite forget. But, whether she did or not, it is certain that she suffered terribly ; and so much is she aged indeed since that, if it were not for her make-up, her false hair and so on, you would take her for at least fifty-nine or sixty." " How shocking ! " exclaimed Mrs. Dartmoor, who knew that to look old is not only the gravest offence a woman can commit, but is also the only one that cannot remain adequately unforgiven.

Then, seeing Lady Levallion passing near her, she attracted her attention, and murmured : " Do look over there at Florence, dear Lady Levallion. How proud of her you must be ! I am sure she looks even sweeter and more lovely than ever : especially now while she is listening to that young attach^ — what's his name ? — from the Russian Embassy. He is so attentive to her always, isn't he ? " "Yes," answered Lady Levallion, laughing. "She thinks he is rather clever. I heard them just now talking about Japanese diplomacy." But no sooner had Beatrice passed on than Mrs. Carleen observed to her neighbour, " Indeed you are right to call attention to such proceedings. Oh, I expect to have a terrible time of it, trying to make matters smooth, you know. And even then I cannot help anti cipating that this marriage will be associated with a fearful scandal of some sort.

It is such an eccentric family ! I am quite upset, believe me, with misgiving and alarm." Meanwhile, the hum of conversation became louder. Lady Levallion passed from one to another with inde fatigable industry, having a little speech full of tact for each, while somebody with long mustachios, full of wax, was playing on a harp ; at the conclusion of whose tunes there was a faint murmur of approbation from those who had not listened. By this time Mrs. Carleen's neighbour was saying to her : "And yet, as I said before, one can never forget your own troubles, Isabel. Tell me, how is your poor brother, Mr. Aston? I think I heard of his being in Paris the other day. They said he was in strange, in most strange, company — it is so sad ! — and that he was perpetually seen with the most disreputable char acters."

" No doubt," Mrs. Carleen answered. " Jack is be having abominably over there, I am told. One is quite ashamed to belong to him. Unfortunately, though, one must belong to somebody; or rather it seems as if we belonged to everybody nowadays ; at least our lives do. It is odious, isn't it, to be gossiped about in the way that prevails at present ? " " Odious," assented Mrs. Dartmoor with conviction. " I detest the way that everybody discusses everybody else, without having the smallest right to do so. But, talking of your brother, what a pity it is that he behaves so shamefully, as we were saying. No wonder you are shocked ! And then, you see, it is no use cutting one's relations, for they are the only people who do not care a morsel whether you cut them or not. The only way is not to think about them.

As for your brother, indeed, I would never think about him, never. I would forget him completely if I were you ; although they tell me that he gambles terribly, and bets, and drinks, and is fast, and associates with preposterous people, and is going utterly to the dogs as straight as ever he can go." Herr Schwopp, the eminent pianist, was at this moment taking his seat at his instrument. His rapt glance was turned to heaven, while he passed his fingers once or twice across the bosses of his brow, as those musicians do who, having investigated the difficulties of one piece during eight hours a day for the last two months, wonder what spontaneous rapture the muse will, peradventure, inspire them to perform. He struck a gigantic chord at random, arpeggio, misterioso, in a major key, and suddenly there was such a hush in the room as he alone could procure.

But unluckily Mrs. Carleen, having her back turned to the piano, did not notice what was taking place ; so she continued to her neighbour in a voice as loud as that which it had been necessary to employ when every one was talking : " Jack is going straight to the dogs, you say ? Yes, indeed he is. It is this woman here, this Lady Leval lion, who has ruined my brother's life." Not until she had said it did she notice the general silence, so engrossed was she with the malignity of her remark. Everybody within several yards of her had distinctly heard her observation. Lady Levallion her self, who was standing close to her side, a little behind her, turned very pale. She advanced a step and faced her visitor, who rose from her seat preparing an apology ; and in an outburst of such resentment as could stay for no consideration of convention, she whispered to her: " Mrs. Carleen !

How dare you ! " But in her extreme indignation she could not restrain her voice sufficiently, and her whisper also was perfectly audible to a few of those who were sitting near. Herr Schwopp's taper fingers stayed inert for a moment, because in his amazement he forgot what ought to have come next. There was a hideous pause in which those who had never felt uncomfortable before felt uncomfortable then. Mrs. Carleen, with keen antagonism on her face that went livid, delayed for one instant, and then, while Mrs. Dartmoor and her other neighbours began to say something trivial, she turned and went slowly towards the door with a ruffle of all her person, a shrug of her shoulders, and a sound that tried to imitate an easy and thoughtless laugh. But she had not yet had time to withdraw when there was announced abruptly: "Mr. Aston."

He entered the room at once. The brother and sister encountered each other on the threshold. He saw immediately that something was amiss. She herself was taken aback at that unexpected entrance of him whom she believed to be still abroad ; and for a moment they examined each other narrowly, until Mrs. Carleen, recovering her entire composure and aplomb, exclaimed in a voice whose accents of forced amiability rang out like a jeer : " Jack ! At last ! You have been expected all the afternoon. Lady Levallion has been asking for you repeatedly." Whereupon she made a majestic exit, humbled in no wise, but vowing further vengeance in her mind ; while on the piano, with the loud pedal down, Herr Schwopp continued to execute with all his fingers and his might the exciting gymnastics of a Polonaise in G. He trounced, he vanquished that pianoforte ; but Lady Levallion had made an enemy who would not so easily be overcome.

When the Polonaise was finished, there were from those assembled such demonstrations of interest in this music that the pianist was obliged to accord them another sample of his accomplishments, at the end of which performance the conversations were renewed, and many people departed ; the unfortunate episode of half an hour ago was, on the way downstairs, the subject of intense curiosity on the part of those who had not understood it fully. But Mrs. Dartmoor, ever discreet and civilised, reassured them readily. " It was nothing," said she. " Poor Mrs. Carleen suddenly felt faint and exhausted, and Lady Levallion kindly asked her if she would not like to go and lie down for a little while in another room. Oh yes, she is lying down there now ; I have this moment taken her the smelling salts."

Was that all ? People smiled ; a few glanced sideways at each other ; the thing was soon forgotten. To Lady Levallion it did not matter in the least, for her good repute was far too secure to be materially shaken by such a paltry occurrence. True, if her daughter had heard the very spiteful observation of Mrs. Carleen's, Beatrice would have winced now at its bare recollection. But Florence had been too far away at the time to overhear or see or even to be aware of what had taken place ; for she had been talking in a farther room to the attache" and to Beckford's people, who now had taken her away with them to an exhibition of important pictures that had been abused into success. When all that gathering had gone away, the Countess Levallion was left alone with Aston. Himself, he was still wondering what could have been happening when he had come in ; and now he was disturbed when she told him the history of it, although she did her best to reassure him.

" It does not matter, Jack ; you must not let it worry you," said she. " I am sorry now to have taken so much notice of it in such an abrupt and rude fashion, only I did it on that impulse of the moment which defeats me always. But, after all, it is only one of those absurdities that one's friends forget, after they have succeeded in making it look more absurd than it really was. Nobody cares much about a little outburst of anger, because it is too commonplace to despise, and too silly to be becomingly derided. Never mind ; I was stupid, if you like ; your sister, I must say, was worse ; but it is all over now ; we shall not hear about it any more." Aston, however, was hardly satisfied, for he knew the inconvenient disposition that his sister possessed. " I am sorry, all the same, that it was Isabel who was mixed up in it," he answered regretfully.

" If it had been anybody else it would have mattered less. The worst of it is, that as a rule she is not easily withheld by ■5 considerations of the amiable kind. You remember how she brought about that quarrel of the Dellinghams on purpose, out of sheer ill-will, because they didn't make enough fuss over her at one of their house-parties in the North." " Never mind," replied Beatrice calmly. " She can not do the smallest harm to me, so I am not apprehen sive. Let us talk about something else. I hate to keep on thinking about other women ; it is always the same story of discussions and disputes and skirmishes. Tell me now, how do I look ? Have I changed at all since you were last here ? How do you like my hair done this way ? I think perhaps it looks more becoming and rather more chic. What do you think ?

" And in the hour that ensued she spoke of such matters as should arouse the admiration, the enthusiasm of a man. But he was silent with the gloom of one who will not dance to the tune you pipe him, who will not heed the song you sing to him with such a subtle intonation, with such an eloquence of pauses in its sweet refrain. Jack Aston, in fact, seemed thoroughly preoccupied, and heeded nothing that he ought to have heeded. Lady Levallion went over to the piano and arranged some music on the top of it, as one who does a useless thing abstractedly. Anon she turned to scrutinise him closely as if, some sudden suspicion arising in her mind, she sought the proofs of its reality upon his face. But, apparently, she did not see enough there to convince her, for with a curious brief smile she looked back at the music with which she was toying, and, standing up in front of the piano, she struck with one hand a couple of chords which were not right, and made a little trill and flourish that ended on a note too sharp.

" Pray don't do that," said he. " I hate Wagner, even when it's only an imitation." "Very well, I won't do it," she answered humbly, as she left the instrument, shutting down its painted lid. Then there was silence between those two, who looked aside each at the other when the other was not looking. Suddenly she went across the room to him, and seated herself close to his chair. Leaning her elbows on her knees, with her head in her hands, she stared once more at him in the face intently. " Well ? " she asked. " What does this mean ? " " This ? What ? " he inquired austerely. " This mood of yours, this grumpiness of yours," she explained. " Where have you been all these last three months ? Doing what ? and where ? " " I have been abroad," he answered with impatience. " What on earth do you expect me to have been doing ?

I have been loafing about ; I have been plodding through the intense boredom of the time ; I have been in Paris doing nothing in particular." But she broke into rapid exclamations : " In Paris ! What ! After Easter ! After the season had begun here ! " " Yes," he answered. " Why not ? Do you think I care that much " — he flipped his fingers — " for your season or for anything belonging to it ? " She looked at him hard, anxiously, right in the eyes with her eyes close : it was the searching look of a passionate woman ready to be suspicious at nothing. And she demanded sharply, like one wronged : " Who is there, in Paris ? " " Cockney excursionists are there as usual," he re joined, "and every year their manners become worse, and their clothes more rococo." " It was not for them that you stayed there, I suppose," said she, " unless you are going in for a study of human disrepair.

It is the women, of course, that are so awful. Their hats ! generally of straw, sailor shape, with one piece of thin ribbon, like what one has one's parcels tied up with, sewn round a crown which is too small ! This when there is snow on the ground ! Their frocks, too, of grey homespun bound with braid, the shape of one's rag-bag ! This in the middle of the Champs Elysees ! Oh, I have seen them, you know. No, I do not suppose it was for them that you stayed." " Bah ! you are absurd," he answered. " What should it have been for, then ? " " For some one else — for some Frenchwoman. Jack ! If it were that ! Is it that ? " Her face was altered in a moment with the frown, the wrinkles, the oppression of that jealous anxiety. Her breath was drawn so hard and fast that all the cascades of lace about her throat were shaken stormily.

" Jack," she besought him, " say it is not for any one's sake that you have stayed away from me, and have come back now to be quite horrible and cross like this. For you are cross now ; it is no use to deny it. Can I not see it in your face, and hear it in your voice, and feel it in your hand ? " " Rubbish ! " he answered. " I am not cross, as you call it, nor did I stay over there for any other reason than to be away from this London of yours, and from this stupidity of what you call Society, which is all vain and paltry like a theatrical performance indifferently acted in a tawdry booth." She pitied the frame of mind that he was in, and answered with a little shake of her head : " Poor dear ! Why, what has Society suddenly done to you to make you so angry with it ? One would think you had been reading Socialism in crisp and racy paragraphs, or had been seen in a shabby coat, so that no one asked you to dinner any more."

He got up, and walked to and fro, and sat down in another seat far off. " Pooh ! " he said presently. " What should it matter to me, any of it ? Only, like this, it is the ruin of you all. You? Yes, you are with it always, you are steeped in its vanity, and thoroughly impaired with its unhealthy and abominable doctrines." " Wasn't I away all last year," she said, " at a wretched little inland watering-place as dull as ditch water, although they said the crushes here had never been so dreadful, nor the designs in bonnets so outrageous ? " " What then ? Out there, at Bagneres-de-Bigorre, you had the same set round you all the time. You might just as well have been in the thick of it here for all the good it did you." But she protested with energy and conviction : " Oh ! Oh ! How can you be so wicked as to say that, when you know how strictly I was in retirement and mourning for my poor husband !