Sorrow on the Sea. A novel

Chapter I

Can there be any age, or days, or time, Or tongues of men guilty so great a crime As wronging simple maid ? Thou that wast yesterday without a blot — Thou that wast every good, and everything That men call blessed — Thou that wast always just and always blest Li faith and promise — what a fall Is this ! To have been so, and now to be The only best in wrong and infamy ! Beaumont aud Fletcher. The next day Cora awoke with the dreary feeling of having some unknown trouble on her mind. On first awaking our thoughts have somewhat the confusion of sleep ; but as its deep mists and shadows pass away, our ills assume their tangible forms, and must be dealt with as they best may. VOL. II. B The heaviest came first to Cora's mind, — that Edmond's estrangement was not the result of accident, as she had half hoped it to be, but was cotemporary with the brightening of his worldly prospects ; and that he was unworthy, therefore, of the love she had given him.

The next vexation was her unpaid bill at the hotel. Rufus sent up the chambermaid to ask at what hour she would choose to breakfast, and, anxious to return to Abbotsbury, she named an early one. He proposed during their morning meal that he should drive her over in his gig. He knew that she had no heavy luggage. This she accepted, not venturing to increase her expenses by thirty shillings for the hire of a carriage. When she had assented, Rufus kept her waiting for him from hour to hour, tid she was on the point of ordering a conveyance after all. She rang the bell, and begged to speak to the mistress of the hotel, and began hesitatingly to speak of the bill, and to ask for a day's credit before she settled it; but the landlady curtly replied that Mr. Helmingham had paid the bill, and but for that name she would not have had a bed in the house.

The waiter had been as in discreet as Rufus had intended. His object in delaying to drive Cora to Abbots bury was to give the idea that she had preferred to remain alone in his company. The coils of the serpent were gathering round in tightening folds. Rufus was very agreeable and attentive to her comfort in their fifteen-mile drive. He tucked his rug carefully round her knees, and did not become irritable when its folds hung down, as they always do after a few minutes of movement — men ever forgetting that a woman cannot grasp the covering as can the masculine knee, the woman's being already encumbered by drapery. He flogged his tired horse to take the sweep in front of the house at a good pace, believing that Edmond would probably look from the window of his father's room, wrhich was in the front, and see Cora by his side, — a circumstance which happened precisely as Rufus had antici pated.

Cora stepped from the gig with a beating heart, and went up at once to Lady Helmingb ham's sitting-room: It was with a half doubt of welcome very painful to endure, but she felt at the moment that anything would be preferable to suspense. Miss Louis sat on an inclined chair by her relative, who was lying in her usual position on the sofa. The face of the beautiful brunette was partly turned towards Lady Helmingham, showing the graceful sweep of her cheek, throat, and shoulder. Her hair was fastened in a glossy knot at the back of her head, and her clinging white muslin dress revealed the lithe perfection of her figure, partly concealed by the folds of a rich Indian shawl, woven in a pattern of orange and purple flowers of satin. Cora stood for a moment unobserved, when the slight noise she made in coming forward attracted the attention of the ladies, and Lola turned the rich glory of her eyes on the rival beauty.

Cora felt her heart sink at this supremacy of loveliness. As the artist who saw the success of his rival Murillo, exclaimed, on looking at one of the chief works of this painter, " I die !" so Cora felt every faint hope of regaining her lover fade from her mind at the sight of the new inmate of Abbotsbury. Very sweetly Lady Helmingham raised her head to offer a kiss to her former friend. Cora was comforted for a moment at the kind greeting, and felt that some one, at any event, was pleased to see her. " It will soon be luncheon time," said the lady. " You had better take off your bonnet before the bell rings. Look at the carnations as you pass the stand — I think they have all struck. I am so glad that Mrs. Noble is so much better as to admit of your returning to me ;" but the concluding words were partly lost in a half concealed yawn, and Cora detected the real indifference under the polish of good breed ing.

She washed her face, and brushed her hair, and put on a clean gingham dress. It was use less to think of attaining the elegance of Miss Louis's toilette, so she strove to be content with being clean. Could Cora have known how little men notice the material of a pretty woman's — or indeed of any woman's — dress, for at the ugly ones they do not look at all — she would have felt more com forted. "When the luncheon bell had summoned her to the dining room, she found therein Miss Louis, Captain Helmingham, and Rufus. The latter gave her a meaning smile. The former rose and bowed stiffly, and did not seem to see the hand which poor Cora timidly advanced in her awk wardness, to meet his. She sat down, not in her usual place, which Miss Louis unconsciously occupied, and felt more awkward in thinking the brothers observed that she was not sitting where she usually sat ; that even at the luncheon table she was supplanted.

Captain Helmingham offered her some roasted partridge, first. As a daughter of a poor soldier she held rank, slight as it was, he remembered, before that of the wealthy heiress of an indigo planter. Cora, who knew nothing of the motive, was nevertheless rather comforted by the civility. Miss Louis, turning her graceful head towards Cora, said something of the beauty of the autumn foliage, and inquired if Cora had come from any great distance that day. She knew nothing about Cora, evidently. Cora felt she had been too insignificant a person to be discussed. Miss Lola Louis had been ad-im portant to her — she had been nothing to Miss Lola Louis; but the lady seemed sweet-tem pered and well-bred, and Cora was grateful for her observations, and tried to respond to them. Excepting in offering to help her to different dishes and wines on the table, Edmond never spoke to Cora.

To Lola he addressed himself occasionally, and at length he enquired if she meant to ride that morning. It was fine overhead, though the roads would be rather destructive to the beauty of her habit. " Was the road very dirty by which you came ?" said Lola to Cora. " I don't know — I did not observe," replied she ; aud Edmond put down her want of obser vation to her interest in Rufus, whilst the poor girl had been preoccupied by the thought of meeting him. Miss Louis accepted the offer of riding, and Rufus said, " Shall you walk this morning?" with the air of an accepted lover. " Thank you ! I am going to remain with Lady Helmingham ;" but she felt grateful to him for not allowing her to feel left out. Miss Lola was to ride the horse she had been accustomed to ride, and was to be accompanied by her quondam lover.

Cora's heart felt bursting. She waited to see them mount. Edmond placed Miss Louis on her horse, after looking carefully at the girths and the reins, lest any risk should endanger his beautiful companion. There was no make-shift habit on her lithe and slender figure. A perfectly-fitting one from the best London tailor showed the fair propor tions of the young equestrian. Edmond, gathering up the reins, placed them in her hand, and then, mounting himself, they rode away, without his looking back at Cora, who saw their departing figures through a haze of tears. She turned away hastily, for Rufus was looking at her with an expression of tender pity, as if he would have said, " I see you are suffering from this man's inconstancy ; but never mind, I will console you." She could not avoid passing him as he stood with his back to the grand staircase, so she went along a passage that led by a narrower one to Lady Helmingham's sitting-room.

Left by the housemaid carelessly till it should be thrown aside in some attic, or placed on the bed of one of the servants, was the lamb's-wool rug which had occupied poor Mrs. Noble's fingers for months, and cost her more shillings than she ever forgave herself for spending on an amusement so unproductive. Miss Lola's poodle and Lady Helmingham's pug had slept on and played with it, dragging out long pieces of the lamb's-wool, by which the texture was drawn up into cods almost inextricable. Cora's face flushed with indignant pain at what seemed an insult to her mother's work. She took it up and locked it in her portmanteau. intending when she had time to herself, to try to replace the disturbed stitches. She then proceeded to the sofa of her patroness. " How do you like Miss Louis ?" enquired the lady.

" Charming, is she not ?" Cora assented, and then asked if she should continue her reading of " Thomson's Seasons ?" " Oh, yes ; of course !" said her ladyship, indifferently — so indifferently, that Cora said, — " Perhaps you would prefer something else ?" " Well, Lola is reading aloud the ' Children of the Abbey,' but she would be vexed if you went on with her book." Cora looked at the easy-chair, still gorgeous with the folds of the purple-and-orange satin shawl, on which the book was open, and a page turned down. She must not sit there, she sup posed, and placed another chair for herself less luxuriously furnished. She asked some questions about Lord Helm ingham's accident, and the lady was eager to tell all the circumstances as far as she knew them ; and in enlarging on all her own griefs and anxieties she grew eloquent, and pleased with the sympathy evinced by her listener.

Edmond's name came up frequently, and always with eulogium from the lips of his stepmother — who spoke of him as one of the most tender-hearted and truthful of his sex; and though Cora believed that she had reason to know the con trary, it was pleasing to her generous heart to hear him praised. She remained in Lady Helmingham's room tdl Lola came in, with a beautiful tint of delicate colour on her olive cheek, from the glow of the exercise she had taken. She flung herself into the easy-chair, which Cora rejoiced she was not compelled to vacate, as she must have done had she previously occupied it. She retained her place at Lady Helmingham's feet, and listened to the pretty babble of the ladies' voices : presently Miss Louis allowed her whip to slide from her out stretched knees, just as the two gentlemen entered the room.

Cora stooped to pick it up, when Lady Helmingham exclaimed, — "Why, my dear, what a droll white spot you have behind your ear ! Ah, I see ! You have cut off a lock of hair for some lover." "Indeed, madam," exclaimed Cora, putting her hand to the place, " I have not !" She flushed crimson, thinking of that which she had given to Edmond. But she knew that had been cut from the back of the neck. " As you please, my dear ; only the short hairs tell tales." " I really cannot account for it," said Cora, more and more perplexed, as she rubbed her finger over the denuded spot. Rufus stood looking on with a meaning smde. Miss Louis was tranquilly indifferent, and Ed mond's face wore an expression of pain and con tempt. An awkward silence fell on the party, till Rufus challenged his brother to a game of billiards, and they left the room together.

Cora felt more puzzled than ever on trying to think what could have happened to her head. She began to express her wonder to Lady Helm ingham, who cut her short by saying that it could not be believed that she was unconscious how she lost a lock of her hair, though she might have reasons for wishing to conceal it. Cora, grieved and offended that her truth was questioned, was silent ; and remained painfully perplexed, feeling herself in disgrace, and thus cut off from the pleasant chatter of the other two. After an unsocial game of billiards — in which Edmond played badly and lost, Rufus left the room, leaving his brother looking listlessly from the window into the park. Had his thoughts shaped themselves into words, they would have stood thus, — " I wonder when I shall get my appoinment. I cannot bear this.

It was indelicate in her to return and insult me before my face by the devotion they show towards each other. Ha ! ha ! clever girl !" and he laughed bitterly. " She travelled down with me, and comes back with my brother !" The bell rang in his father's bed-chamber, and he remembered that he ought to have gone to sit with him ; he left the room for that purpose, and trod on something soft. On stooping to pick it up, he found it to be a piece of white paper, folded, and on opening it he discovered a lock of light-brown hair, the counterpart of one he had till lately carried in his breast, and which even now was safely treasured in his desk. The paper was inscribed inside, " From Cora," with the date of the previous night. I do not know which feeling was most painful, Edmond's jealousy, or his conviction that Cora's love was unvalued by his brother.

" I will keep this for the present ; perhaps I may settle all my accounts with that young man ere long." And he put it carefully away in his waistcoat-pocket. The evening passed in the company of Lady Helmingham, Miss Louis, Cora, and Rufus. Edmond spent it in his father's room, from whence the medical men did not think it prudent that Lord Helmingham should at present be removed, lest his irritable brain should suffer from the sights and sounds of domestic associa tion. Lola went to the piano, and sang one of her low, musical songs, and looked more beautiful whilst singing. Rufus listened, and showed by eloquent looks that he was fuller of admiration of Cora than of her rival. Lady Helmingham liked to observe rare loveliness, and was content to look on. Cora felt grateful to Rufus, though her mind was full of distress and perplexity.

She perceived that Lady Helmingham suspected her of an un truth, and did not see by what arguments she could convince her of her innocence. She did not see Edmond again that evening; and she had a fresh mortification, in going to her room, to find that she was not to occupy the bedchamber she had previously slept in, because Miss Louis had wished her maid to sleep close to her ; and Cora's portmanteau had to be removed a story higher. " Oh, I wish I had never come ! Everything is going wrong!" and she thought with re pentant tenderness of her mother's large hazel eyes, which had always looked at her so kindly. " I see him ; yet I seem miles away from him. He never cared for me. I will speak to him. I will ask him to give me back that lock of hair. Heartless, cruel man !" and she sobbed herself to sleep, somewhat relieved that she had resolved on something.

The next morning she found that Captain Helmingham had ridden over to Ipswich, to take his place in the coach for London on the fodow ing day. He had broken the intelligence to his father, on the previous evening, that his attendance at the Admiralty was necessary. Lord Helmingham wished all ships, and Lords of the Admiralty with them, in the bottom of the Red Sea. He desired that Edmond would remain at home, and fall in love with Lola Louis. " She is a beautiful girl, Edmond." "Very," was the quiet reply. " A magnificent fortune." " So I understand." " Her husband will be a fortunate man.' " I hope he may be worthy of the blessing." " Then why not ensure that point, by marry ing her yourself?" " My dear father, I do not believe so lightly of the lady as to think I could succeed, when she has shown me no proof of preference.

I have no intention of marrying at all ; certainly, not at present; and when I do enter into that holy state, it will be with an Englishwoman of untainted blood." " What do you mean ?" " That Miss Lola has East Indian blood in her veins, and, exquisitely beautiful as she is, I would rather marry a turned-up nose, freckle-faced Saxon girl." " I never understood," observed Lord Helm ingham, " the objection to what is vulgarly called 'black blood.' Miss Lola Louis is wonderfully handsome, both in face and figure. I understand that she is exceedingly amiable. Why should a man object to make her the mother of his children V " I have been too long on the Indian station not to respect the convictions — I will not call them prejudices — of my countrymen, as to half castes. The qualities of an East Indian are, for the most part, not such as one would like to sec repeated in his children.

They are, with some grand exceptions, guileful, indolent, and treacherous. These qualities arc not neutralized by the admixture of Anglo-Saxon blood. Putting the mental qualities aside, the son or daughter of Miss Louis by a European may resemble her Indian grandfather or grandam, and come out with a skin of mahogany and with blubber lips." " Is this possible r" "Yes; bv some extraordinary process, Nature often misses one generation, aud then reasserts herself in the next." Lord Helmingham mused over this. He wondered whether Rufus could fancy marrying her; and thought that her thousauds might do a "reat deal towards " washing a blackamoor vol. 11. c white " in the opinion of society. With Ed mond, however, the case seemed hopeless, and he forbore to press it. He spoke then of alterations and improve ments to be made in his newly-acquired estates, and Edmond looked at his father touchingly and sadly, rejoicing for him that he should have recovered to have the pleasure of planning, and with a sigh that his own unhappiness made him insensible to the advantages of the future.

But his sense of duty made him simulate an interest which he did not feel ; and his father was happier in his society than he had ever been before, and more eager that Edmond should give up his pro fession and return to live with him at Abbotsbury, unlike the majority of fathers with large landed estates, who are generally supposed to look with jealousy on their eldest sons and probable suc cessors. When the next day Edmond had ridden to Ipswich to book his place in the coach, the cham bermaid at the hotel desired to speak to him, and asked him if a young lady who had slept there a few nights previously were not staying at Abbots bury. On the reply of Edmond in the affirmative, she produced a small ruby wrapt in paper, which she said she thought must belong to the lady, and might have fallen out of some sleeve-buttons of her night clothes.

" When did you say you found it ?" " When I made the bed, sir." " Thank you. Yes, it belongs to the lady, I believe. I remember now she said something about having lost one." And with a face as white as ashes he gave the girl half-a-crown for her trouble. He had recognised the stone at once as having belonged to some-sleeve buttons of Rufus's. He would be quite sure ; however, and he galloped back with a whirlwind of passion in his breast, compared to which the storms that desolate whole countries would have seemed tame. When he reached home he inquired after his brother — " Where is Mr. Helming ham ?" " Mr. Rufus is in his room, sir." Captain Helmingham sought him there, un conscious how he ascended the stairs. He was compelled to stop for a moment at the door to c beat down the suffocating rage which seemed to stop the action of his heart, and would, he feared, prevent his articulation.

But the hesita tion was but instantaneous. He rushed in, every fibre trembling with agitation. Rufus was reclining in his cachmere dressing gown, richly padded and lined with purple silk, reading "Tom Jones." He looked the perfection of gentle, refined beauty and indolence. His slippers were em broidered, his stockings were of sdk, for he was arrayed as those young men mostly dress who do not think it necessary to pay for their luxuries. On the dressing-table lay the sleeve-buttons, one ruby absent. " It is yours, then ?" said Edmond, in a hoarse voice, with a white, quivering lip. " Yes," drawled his brother, " I call it mine, though if every one had his own I believe Run dall and Bridge might claim it." " You have lost one of the stones," said Edmond in a tone so unnatural that Rufus looked up astonished.

" Yes, my dear fellow— badly set, no doubt ; that's the way those scoundrels serve younger sons — high prices and bad workmanship." " Here is the missing ruby." " Ah !" rejoined Rufus, languidly, " so it is." " Do you know where you lost it ?" cried Edmond, in a voice of thunder. " Don't holloa, my dear Edmond," replied the younger brother, placing his white hands to his ears ; "lam not deaf. How the deuce should I know where I lost it ? Had I done so I should have picked it up, for it is too valuable to leave on the floor." He rose as he said this, for there was some thing so menacing in his brother's tone that he did not like to be taken at a disadvantage. " It was found in Miss Noble's bed at the hotel where you slept. Scoundrel !" he muttered deep under his breath, and seizing Rufus by the collar of his shirt he shook him violently and flung him across the room.

The tightened collar made a purple line on his fair throat, and then, luckily for Rufus, the buttons gave way and permitted him to breathe again. He recovered himself instantly, aroused to increased rancour from the violence to which he had been subjected, — " What the devil is it to you if I choose to sleep with a pretty girl ? She prefers being my mistress to being your wife — very kind of her, and very good taste, too, I think." Edmond was taller, more heavily built than Rufus ; and rendered superhumanly strong by passion, he walked up to his brother, with the thought in his heart that he would strangle him. Rufus confronted him, pale as death, with the courage that animates the rat which, driven into a corner, turns on the terrier about to worry it. " You are my mother's child ! I must not kill you ; but never more shall one roof cover us."

He left the room, and Rufus sank again into his easy chair. " Bless me !" he exclaimed, " this blustering fellow has marked me on the throat — 'tis well 'tis no worse. These scenes are very agitating ;" and he arranged the glorious clusters of curls on his brow, and bathed his neck with eau-de cologne. Then he delicately anointed the bruised skin of his throat with pomade divine, and tried to resume his interest in " Tom Jones," which was not difficult, as he did not read for the story, which was familiar to him, but to chuckle over the satirical observations on human nature to be found in its pages, mostly at the be ginning of the chapters. He had little fear of any reconciliation now between Edmond and Cora. He gave a little laugh when he thought that Providence had aided his schemes for blackening the character of that young lady by an accident of which he was really not aware.

Cora had slept soundly, fatigued by her long journey, and Rufus after opening the door softly, by slipping the top and bottom bolt, had taken a pair of scissors from her dressing table and cut off a piece of her hair from behind her ear. In moving the bolt he had unconsciously pressed the sleeve button against the door and loosened the stone, which, when he leant over the bed, in the act of cutting Cora's hair, had dropped into it. Of this fact he was not aware till Edmond's accusation. He had observed the absence of the stone, but thought he had lost it in driving Cora in his gig from Bury.

Chapter II

0 you do wrong my honest, simple truth — Myself and my affections are as pure As those chaste flames that burn before the shrine Of the great Dian. Cora waited and watched for an opportunity of speaking to Edmond. She would try to break down this wall of ice which had frozen up be tween them. He should speak to her. He should return the hair. She would watch his face to see what expression revealed or might reveal the thoughts passing in his mind — whether anger, distrust, or indifference. She watched his return from Ipswich. She stood in the pathway; but he galloped by her with headlong speed. She waited till he rushed from his brother's room. He would have passed her, but she placed her hand on his arm. He shook her off; and then stood looking at her with eyes aflame. "What do you want with me?" he said, hoarsely.

Cora tried to speak; but though her bps moved, no voice came from them. She was like a poor starved kitten, which having no power to produce a sound, still opens its mouth to form a piteous cry. " What do you want ?" he repeated. " That lock of hair," she articulated, at last. " Only one lock, madam ? You are moderate. I have it in my power to oblige you with two." " What can you mean ?" said Cora, scared by the fury of his manner. " I wid return everything I have of yours, and I trust in heaven that I may never see you again !" he cried, as he disappeared into his room. When he had shut the door, he proceeded to pack his clothes hurriedly. He could not leave till night, and he must spend some time with his father. Cora proceeded to Lady Helmingham's sitting room, stunned by the conduct of her former lover.

She had had her wish, and, like other gratified wishes, it had ended in disappoint ment. Seemingly, he had chosen to ignore her just claims on his notice by anger, which she fancied might be simulated to terrify her, as she could imagine no just reason — no reason at all, for its existence. She passed into Lady Helmingham's room. Outside on the gravel she heard the voice of Rufus, in cheerful tones, for he had not chosen to indulge in disagreeable recollections, and had gone from his room into the garden without waiting to exchange his dressing-gown for a morning dress. Lola was standing at the window, smiling, her rounded cheeks showing dimples, as she stretched her hand for an October peach which he presented to her, Lady Helmingham having one already resting on the palm of her right hand, which she was daintily peeling with the tips of the fingers of her left hand.

Rufus a few days previously had covered these peaches on the sunny side with a thin coat of white wax, in the shape of the initials of each lady's Christian name. Cora had been absent at the time, or that politest of young men would have doctored a peach for her also. As it was, he did not perceive, standing without, that she was feeling wounded and cut off from the small interests and amusements of the family circle. She had one point of time towards which her thoughts turned incessantly — she should hear something from Edmond. He would enclose the lock of hair, entreated for with such pas sionate earnestness, now to be flung back with such contumely. He would send it before he left home, she hoped. Perhaps there would be something indicative of his present cause of anger, unless his fury were feigned to give a colour to his changed affections.