A Dreamer

Chapter I

Florence. A handsome apartment in a large house. Two well -furnished rooms, opening the one into the other, gay with talking and laughter. In the larger of the two Mr Mor timer is standing, the centre of a group of men, some artists by profession, some amateurs. He is displaying a picture lately finished, and is receiving gay and flattering criticisms. Gris elda stands in a recess by the window of the inner room. It is late in the afternoon, and the lamps are already being lighted in the streets. The room is full of the twilight, though candles are burning in the adjoining apartment. You cannot distinguish the colour of Griselda's gown, but you can see the grace ful outline of her figure, and some of her face's delicate beauty. One hand plays restlessly with the blind-cord, and her eyes are a little restless too, now and then wandering away from her loquacious companion, to whom she vouchsafes only short and careless replies.

Griselda looks plaintive to-night : more bril liant, less childish than she was a year ago, she is still anxious and careworn. The lively young Russian speaking to her is a boyish, good-humoured fellow, Count Ivan Schouvar owski. He is talking terrible nonsense in the most inflated language. By a table at a little distance stands a lean, sallow, straight-haired American, of some five-and-thirty years of age. He holds a photograph-book in his hands, but he is not looking at it ; his gaze — or rather his scowl — is fixed on the pair by the window. Griselda and the Count are talking chiefly in English, but occasionally they slide into French or Italian, one of these languages 0 0 being as natural to them as another ; but at these times the scowl of the American deepens, for he loses the thread of the conversation.

Not that he considers the young Russian's talk worth understanding : it seems to him the essence of folly, impertinent as well as ridiculous. Griselda's eyes were busy in the next room, and she was listening in the hope of catching what her father was saying ; but presently her glance fell on the moody American, whose patience was beginning to fail. Griselda interrupted Count Schouvarowski suddenly. " Please will you go in there and ask my father from me what he has been saying about a project for next month ? When you under stand it all, you may come back and tell me. " I have sworn to obey your least behest," said the lad, unwillingly leaving his position and wandering into the adjoining room. Griselda turned to Mr Martin. " Do you want to speak to me ? " she said, smiling, but with a tinge of impatience in her tone.

" I have sent him away, because he makes so much noise I can hear nothing else if he is by." " He's a conceited puppy," said Mr Martin, unable to control himself longer. " No ; he is my very good friend," said Griselda. Mr Martin made no response, and looked so entirely unmoved by this flash that Griselda subsided into her shell, and turned her back a little on Mr Martin. The American joined her in the window. " Miss Mortimer," he said (Mr Martin was not fond of music, and ignored Griselda's pro fession as much as possible), " I desire to ask you a question." " I am listening with both my ears, Mr Martin," said Griselda, playfully, but inwardly cross. Mr Martin bent his head a little closer, and, with a halfsuppressed smile and a light of some excitement in his eyes, said, in . a low tone, " I guess it is true that you are engaged to your father's friend, Captain Castleton."

Griselda did not start visibly, and it was too dark for her sudden pallor to be noticed. She resumed the blind -cord amusement, and did not reply for a few minutes. Presently she asked, "Who said so?" " I had it on the best possible authority, Miss Mortimer, short of yourself. I don't say / believed it." Another pause; then Griselda said, speaking rapidly, " You will do me the favour of contradicting, if you are told this again." " Then it is not a true report, Miss Mor timer ? Every one believes it." " Captain Castleton has not asked me to marry him. I should certainly not marry him if he did. Will you let me pass, if you please ?" She went into the next room, glancing at the young Russian, who was by her side in a moment, chattering as fast as possible. Griselda neither listened nor replied, but she was glad to be screened from observation by his presence and talk.

He saw she was agi tated and annoyed, but was too good-natured to show any curiosity. Griselda liked the boy though she treated him with some disdain. As to Mr Martin, when thus suddenly deserted, he was oppressed by a sense of failure. He had intended to say a great deal more when he had caught Griselda alone for a few moments. Here he was, tossed aside like a bit of waste -paper for this detestable little Russian. But men of Mr Martin's country can be patient and crafty. He set out for his hotel, having left a small parcel in the charge of Griselda's maid. After the discomfited Mr Martin had van ished, Griselda returned to her window, leaning her forehead against the glass and letting the Count continue his lively nonsense unheeded. Presently she discerned a figure coming along the pavement, and starting up with clasped hands, she cried, " Oh, will you do something for me ?

" " Anything for you, Signorina.' She pointed to the figure. " Go, say I have a headache ; say we re ceive no one to-day. Say anything you like, only go — do go, and send him away." The young fellow obeyed, and presently she saw him and the new-comer walking past the house, arm in arm. She left the room, closing the door softly ; ran swiftly up the staircase, and rushed into her dressing-room. A maid was there busily arranging an even ing dress for her young mistress. There was no opera to-night, and Griselda was to sing at a large party in a private palace. The maid was a German, stout, and not too young ; her name was Luise. " Put that down," said Griselda, in her sweet, peremptory voice, " and go away, please." Left alone, she blew out the candles and sat down on the floor. She did not cry, but she trembled all over, and a tearless sob arose in her throat.

" He will force me to it," she cried, pressing her hand to her forehead. " I will die first. It is just like him, the base coward, afraid to speak till he has entangled me in a web like a spider. And papa helps him. Oh, if I had but one friend ! I can't quite trust Ivan, and there is no one else." She sat still for a few minutes ; then rose and looked out. Night had fallen on the fair city : the lights along the river-side, and from the houses of the Ponte Vecchio, gleamed in the water with a wavering, uncertain light. She opened her window, and listened for the sound of the water as it eddied round the piers of the Ponte Santa Trinita. close by. But the night-wind was cold, and Griselda's voice was too precious to be allowed any risks. She hastily shut the casement and rang her bell. Luise reappeared, and at once proceeded to relight the candles, inwardly grumbling at her young mistress's perversity.

" Bring me some tea, please, Luise. My head aches." Griselda threw off her dress and flung it on the floor ; she wrapped herself in a shawl and lay down upon the sofa, closing her eyes as if she wished to sleep. Lately she had found sleep in the daytime a necessity, for she lived in the midst of a whirl of gaiety and excitement, wearing enough for her delicate frame. But no sleep came to the tired eyelids to-day ; and when Luise brought her the tea, Griselda raised her head and sat up on the sofa, with a bright flush on her usually pale cheeks. Luise returned to her task by the table, on which lay the dainty raiment in which the young singer was to appear as one of the acknowledged beauties of Florence. Beauty is seldom grudged to an actress, and Griselda's was of too rare a type, in Italy at least, to make rivals.

She was indulged and petted by every one, and though far from being the best singer at the opera, was the most popular of all the ladies of the company. Griselda did not seem moulded for the stage somehow, and it was generally prophesied that she would early quit her profession and crystallise as a brilliant wife. Meantime she lived in hand some rooms, had plenty of money at her dis posal, and moved in a higher class of society than her position might have led one to expect. Mr Mortimer was industrious and seemingly re formed. He appeared careful of his daughter, and anxious to keep doubtful companions of his own away from her. Her work, though never thoroughly liked by herself, was suffi ciently familiar to be no longer a bugbear. What more did she want ? Luise continued her work for some time in silence while Griselda sipped her tea.

Pres ently she asked, " What jewels will please das Fraulein for to-night ? " Griselda did not answer, and presently Luise produced a little box wrapped in pink tissue paper. "You will wear this, perhaps?" said the maid, opening it and displaying the con tents. Griselda's eyes blazed, and Luise feared she had made a false move. She liked the American gentleman, and was anxious to favour him. " Where did that come from, Luise ? " The maid pointed to the bouquet which Mr Martin had given Griselda himself. " Take it away," said the young girl, lying down again and closing her eyes. She was exasperated, but did not wish Luise to know it. " It is pretty. He has good taste that Mr Martin," said Luise. "He has no business to send me presents. Take it away." Luise looked very grave, and came over to her mistress.

" Fraulein, you have not said ' No ' to that gentleman ? " Griselda started up incensed. " Luise, will you be quiet ? What do you mean ? I have nothing to say to Mr Martin or to any one. I don't like that American with his long thin hair. Why can't he have it cut like another man ? " " His hair matters nothing, Fraulein. He is rich." ' I daresay." ' And a good man." ' Very likely." "And, Fraulein Griselda, you wear the jewels the Count Schouvarowski has sent, though you wish not to marry him." " Very well. I will never wear them again. Listen to me, Luise. I am not going to marry any one, and I won't have you talk about it. That Russian gentleman is only my friend. He does not really want me to marry him. It is nonsense he talks. He thinks he cares a great deal more than he really cares. He will go away and forget all about me.

If he really cared, do you think I would take his presents, or let him talk to me, or anything ? I would not. I would not hurt him or any one for the world. I won't have you talk as if I was a sort of flirt. I am not. You know I am not. And that Ameri can gentleman is nothing at all to me. He 0 0 has annoyed me about something else to night, so there are two reasons why I won't have his necklace. Take it away, and give it back to him. You had no right to take it, Luise. If people give me things, let them bring them openly." " Gut," said Luise, removing the trinket from Griselda's sight. The young girl lay still, but her thoughts were not pleasant ones. Presently she looked up petulantly. " What a fuss you are making with that gown. Do, please, finish it quickly." " You must be beautiful this evening, Frau lein.

The foreign prince will be there." " Will he notice how the lace is sewn on my frock ? I don't want to go to-night. I don't like it. Luise, do you like being a servant ? " I, Fraulein ? What say you ? " I don't like it." Wie?" I don't like being a servant." You are no servant, Fraulein." " Standing up to sing and amuse all those people." " When you are a rich Frau, you will give parties yourself, and have only yourself to amuse." " That will be horrid." " Fraulein, you are cross. I say only what you say." " I hate people to do that. I like to be contradicted. It would be odious to spend one's life being amused by other people. It is better to amuse them ; only I don't like to be paid for it. I don't want the money. I get enough at the opera. I should like to go and sing to them without being paid for it.

Luise, wouldn't you rather brush my hair and sew my lace without being paid for it ? I don't suppose you would, though," she added, breaking into a laugh. Luise laughed too, as the best way of answering such a peculiar question. The laugh did Griselda good. She jumped up and donned her evening array with her usual good-humour. Bitterly anxious, however, was the poor child during the whole evening, keeping her Russian friend as near her as she could, even tolerating the American. Once or twice she shrank into some secluded nook, where she could escape from observation. Always this happened when one special figure came near her — a tall, muscular, English figure — bearing a handsome, bold face, which to Griselda was the most terrible face she knew. Once this man noticed her hiding-place, and followed her to it.

It was the only occasion on which he spoke to her during the evening. For five minutes he imprisoned her, and then allowed her to issue from her retreat, her hand restinoon his arm as lightly as if she found it red hot. All the world, so to speak, saw the private conference, and formed their own conjectures. Griselda dared venture into no more secret corners. The world smiled, and said she had no longer an object in doing so. Another English lady was present, who bore away the palm of beauty. This was Griselda's cousin, Mrs Temple - Mortimer, who, with her husband, was passing through the Italian capital. She would have patron ised Griselda, but the girl drew away from her. Griselda was too proud to vaunt her rich relations. Only once, when the above mentioned terror passed over her, she fled to Mrs Mortimer's side.

" Let me stay here, Agnes, just for a minute," she gasped, bewildering Agnes, who had never known an agitation of this sort. But Mrs Temple-Mortimer was astonished at Griselda's beauty and popularity. " How lovely she is !" said Agnes, warmly, as she and Oliver drove away. " Never saw a girl so improved," returned VOL. II. B he, with as much enthusiasm as he was cap able of expressing or feeling. They had taken their last view of Griselda, as she stood waiting for her carriage, the centre of a group of persons all vying with one another which should please her most. She was very demure and dignified, but still pleased and bright. Her delicate cheek was flushed ; her deep eyes sparkled ; her loose, curling hair gleamed golden under the lamp light. Agnes carried that pleasant, graceful picture in her eyes for many a day, till an other took its place, and forbade her to smile as she thought of it.

" She is like the heroine of a fairy tale," said Agnes ; " quite different from any girl I have seen before." " She is not like any actress I ever saw," said Oliver, gruffly. He had admired Gris elda to-night, but was tired of her now. Agnes always had her thoughts filled by some one other than himself.

Chapter II

A week passed. Oliver and Agnes were gone. The American had made his pro posals and had been rejected. He was al ready on his way back to New York, and was beginning to smile over his folly in falling in love with an actress. The Russian count was gone also. Very sudden had seemed his departure to Griselda, who was not aware that he had intended to go at least fifty times before. " My mother writes that she desires my presence," he explained, ruefully. " I am a dutiful son, Mademoiselle." " I am glad to hear it," said Griselda. " You will come to St Petersburg, Made moiselle ? At least give me the satisfaction of knowing that I shall once again behold that angelic countenance." 0 "When we meet again," said Griselda, gravely, " I shall require to know the name of my successor in your esteem."

" Mademoiselle, you can have no successor. In former times I may have sighed for others; in those days I was a fool, and blind. When one has rejoiced in the sunshine, can one again regard a wax taper ? " " Oh, will you never talk sense ? " cried Griselda, wearily. " You tire me with this foolish chatter. Why can you not be your self ? When you are sensible, and talk like a human being, I rather like you. I think I shall miss you a little when you are gone." " The kindest word you ever spoke to me, Mademoiselle. It almost inclines me to stay a little longer." " No ; you must go to your mother ; and I hope she will punish you for your scandalous waste of time. Now, if I had a mother " she checked herself, and, rising, said, " I must go and practise." As the young fellow walked off, Griselda leaned against the window, and nodded to him playfully ; then she turned away, feeling a little sad.

The Count rushed to a florist, and left an order that the young lady was to be supplied with the choicest flowers every day for two months. Then he turned to a jeweller, and bought a gold locket, marked with his initials. It reached Griselda ; and though she never wore it, she had not the heart to refuse it. The Count was an idle, foolish, extravagant boy ; but there was good stuff in him, and Griselda divined it. By the by, a few years later he married a Russian girl of his own rank, and a very affectionate and faithful husband and father he made. He always kept Griselda's picture, and sometimes broke forth into raptures about her to his wife, who never thought of being jealous. They were good, simple, trusting souls both of them. Griselda had once feared that she might in time cease to expect "good stuff" in her friends.

It was a relief to find that time had not come yet, and that a bad man made her shudder now more than ever before. There were several of her acquaintances, several of her father's friends, before whom she had long been used to shudder ; now there was one the mere mention of whose name made her heart beat with fear. A terrible doom seemed to be overtaking her, and the frightened, impulsive girl fancied there was no escape. One often meets such men as Captain Castleton in foreign towns where there are plenty of life and good society, — men of good birth, with the outward manners of gentlemen, with plenty of money and friends, but who find it convenient to live abroad, whither, it may be, scandal has not followed them, or where it has lost its sting. Captain Castleton found himself admired by foreigners of distinction, and civilly treated by his compatriots out of England.

He had sufficient artistic taste to enjoy the fair Italian city, and men of his stamp can find amusement in any town. Everywhere he was seen in the best society, and in general was well received : on the few occasions when he had been snubbed, his effrontery and self-possession had carried him through the humiliation scathless. This man had fallen in love with Griselda — a strange circumstance, one might think ; but he had scarcely ever heard her speak more than twenty words, and her beauty and man ner had struck him as fascinating and uncom mon. Probably his love would have been as evanescent as it was superficial ; but he had offered to marry her, and he and Mr Mor timer, who owed him a large gambling debt, contracted soon after the artist's arrival in Florence, had concluded a bargain to the satisfaction of both parties.

A favourite subject with novelists is the love that springs up in the heart of a pure and high-minded girl for a man best described in the opposite terms. Instances of such an affection, rash and too often disastrous, there undoubtedly are in real life; but I believe them to be comparatively rare, and generally but little to the credit of the pure and high minded girl. Ignorant she probably is — and ignorance is her best excuse; but where in her is the feminine " instinct " of which we hear so much ? Griselda, innocent herself as a little child, was happily not wanting in instinct, nor un happily in knowledge, of a sad kind, perhaps, for so young a girl. She cringed from Castle ton when she saw him first ; she hated him as his designs became evident to her. It was never easy to force Griselda to anything, and both her father and the unwelcome suitor had to proceed cautiously.

No formal proposal was addressed to her, and her father said nothing on the subject. But they were en tangling her, and she perceived it. The American was not the only person who had hinted that a report of her engagement was spreading far and wide. She was terrified out of her wits ; too much frightened to think of anything clearly ; too much frightened to consider what was the most they could do to her, or whether resistance were really hope less. Griselda had very little self-confidence — very little belief in her own powers of resistance. An intangible enemy is ever the hard est to combat, and Griselda knew not where or how to begin her defence. Her father was apparently the same to her as ever : if he were binding her, it was with invisible chains. Cap tain Castleton was always outwardly civil and respectful in his manner.

She had nothing to catch hold of — nothing of which she could com plain. Had she accused him or her father of circulating the report Mr Martin had brought her, either would have denied the accusation with an affectation of perfect surprise and in nocence. But Griselda never doubted about them for an instant. " Some day they will take me at unawares, and then they will force me to do it," she groaned, without pausing to think if such a thing were possible. " Oh, if I had one friend — just one ! " Luise, the faithful, but not always judicious, maid, saw the danger also, though she never spoke of it. " I will take no money from him" she said, "and admit no presents." But Captain Castleton offered no bribes, and with the exception of an occasional bouquet sent by Mr Mortimer, he brought no presents.

Griselda did not trust Luise ; she looked at everything from the point of view of a lady's maid — a faithful one, perhaps ; but still a lady's-maid. " My thoughts are not your thoughts," said Griselda, sadly but not irreverently ; " neither are my ways your ways." She took out a letter from Ralph Lindsay and read it for the twentieth time. There was one sentence in it that she noted particularly. " If I can get a holiday I should like to come and see you. I have not been in Florence, and I long to hear your voice again." " Oh, if Ralph were only here ! " Griselda, thinking of him, seemed to feel him a tower of strength sufficient for any amount of protection. " Perhaps he will come," she said, and added under her breath, " Mr Temple said I should be better as his wife." The days passed slowly as a round of horrible anxiety.

Griselda longed to go away for at least a temporary respite. She tried to catch cold, to hurt herself in any small way that would prevent her from singing for a short time. Night after night, as she appeared on the stage, she felt Castleton's basilisk eyes fixed upon her, and her heart thrilled in despair. Her old horror of being stared at, which, though lulled to sleep, was not de stroyed, returned now, with this man as the impersonation of the irreverence she dreaded. Once more she thought of running away, and once more cowardice restrained her. " Where could I go ? " she said. " It would do no good." In this frame of mind, tortured by fear, and dreading each hour as it came, she one day told her father she was tired, and would lie down in the little salon if he would promise to admit no one.

" Very well, my dear," said Mr Mortimer ; " but I am coming to you in a little while, to speak to you of our plans. Will that tire you ?" " No, papa, not a bit. Ah, yes ; let us leave this place. Let us go to London." " Griselda, you know we agreed that a smaller place is better for you. You would be lost in London." " Let me rest now, papa. Come in an hour, and we will talk then. I will consider a little what is best. And, papa, remember ; let no one in." Mr Mortimer retired and wrote a little note, which he sent to Captain Castleton. Then he waited. Visitors called, and he told them, " My daughter sees only her fiance" this after noon. About an hour passed ; the day had closed, but Griselda sent away the servant with the lamp, and lay still in the gathering darkness. She had fallen into a light slumber, when she heard a tap at the door, and her father's voice saying — " Griselda, are you here ?

" " Yes," she said, wearily, and was conscious that the door opened, and that some one was approaching. " Papa," she said, closing her eyes again, " I am very tired. Don't ask me to talk. I want to rest. I am sleepy. Come and sit here, but let me rest a little longer." Very touching was the sweet, pleading voice ; but it was not Griselda's father who heard it. She suddenly became aware that the step approaching was not Mr Mortimer's, and she started up to find Castleton by her side, a look of great amusement on his face. He held out his hand to her, but Griselda paid no heed. He would have detained her, but she was too quick for him. Like lightning she fled from him, rushed wildly up -stairs, and locked herself into her own room. She was too much bewildered by the terror that had succeeded her sleepiness to appreciate rightly what she had done.

Not till long afterwards did she question if it would not have been better to have spoken to the intruder calmly, and to have left him quietly. She sat trem bling on the floor, listening to the harsh laughter of her father and his friend below, and saying over and over again, that nothing, nothing, nothing, would induce her to run these risks longer. When Luise, frightened by her mistress's long solitude, insisted on being allowed to enter, Griselda gave her a letter, " to put in the post yourself, please, Luise, and don't tell any one." It was to Ralph Lindsay. " You told me to call you if ever I wanted you. I do want you. Please, dear Ralph, come, come ! "

Chapter III

About a month after the events narrated in the last chapter, Philip Temple was sitting late one evening in his den. He looked rather woe-begone. The " Company " was not get ting on very well, and one or two of the share holders were inclined to grumble. Mr Temple, senior, was making sundry alterations at the Moat of which Philip strongly disapproved. Agnes had written that the church restoration was proceeding gaily, and that the building of the new school was put off indefinitely ; his own accounts were rather in a mess, and he was thinking ruefully of various plans which would have to be abandoned for lack of funds. A sudden leap on the part of the " Duke of Wellington " had caused the overturning of a cup of coffee on a valuable book lent to Philip by a very prim friend ; and he was in the act of mopping up the fluid awkwardly enough, while his abuse of the poor animal (who was running round the room gleefully wagging his tail) was interrupted by an occasional cough — for Philip had a cold and sore throat, and felt generally miserable.