CHAPTER XLIV.

DUAL SOLITUDE.

Let retrace our steps and thoughts to the time Lionel, with Sister

Magdalen in his arms, the priest at his side, Vaura and the boy, child

of Fanny Ponton, made their sensational exit down the long lengths of

the luxurious _salons_. Mason had ushered them into the deserted

boudoir of her mistress, where every sense was pandered to; here one

was lulled into waking or sleeping dreams by the ever soft light, dim

and rose-tinted; or when old Sol rode high in the heavens, triumphant

in his gift of day, sending his beams through stained windows or

rose-silk hangings. The soft light shone alike upon gems in sculpture

and art on the walls painted in dreamy soul-entrancing landscapes, or

gay grouping of the Graces; if the pictured female loveliness was clad

only in feathery clouds of fleecy drapery, the few thought the painter

might have been more lavish of robing; but the room was warm with gay

laughter, warm with the sweet breath of warm hearts, with the warmth

of the rose-tinted lights clothing the ethereal loveliness on its

walls; and now, falling on one of the loveliest women in the kingdom,

thought Trevalyon, as laying his burden on a soft velvet lounge, his

eyes dwelt on Vaura's beauty, for they are alone once more, Father

Lefroy having left the boudoir with Mason to summon Sir Andrew Clarke,

as they could not restore the nun unaided.

"In dual solitude once more, my beloved;" and she is in his close

embrace; her large eyes in their soft warmth rest on his; one, long

kiss is given--one long sigh.

"Save for the boy, darling," Vaura smiles; releasing herself, her

quickened heart-beats deepening the rose-tints in her cheeks.

Here the physician entered, having despatched Mason for his servant

with medicine case.

"Too great a strain upon her nerves, poor thing," said Sir Andrew

Clarke; "most trying scene for her; then the narcotic administered, as

she has informed us, by the servant of her betrayer; I heartily

congratulate you, Trevalyon, on the light she has thrown upon this

matter, and none too soon, either, as Delrose is leaving England. You

have no idea, Miss Vernon, I assure you, of the talk there has been;

our newspapers are a great power in all English-speaking lands, and

their managers being aware our colonies take their cue from them (in a

great measure), do as a rule keep their heel on Rumour's tongue,

unless it wags on oath."

"Yes; and as a rule shut their eyes to the yellow sheen from the gold

in her palm, Sir Andrew," said Vaura, earnestly thinking of how Lionel

had suffered from it all.

"True, most true; but the revival of this scandal with the unwearied

persistence of its sensational colouring and reproduction from week to

week, lead one to suppose gold lent life and vim to each issue; though

again, _I am sure_, our great papers are above a bribe, and it must

have been vouched for on oath. Do you purpose interviewing the

newspaper men, Trevalyon?" he inquired, taking the medicine chest from

his servant and dismissing him.

"I think not (more than I have done); I dislike paper war and _oath

was made_ as to the _truth_ of the _lie_ to the managers; I suppose I

am lazy; at all events I am epicurean enough to hug to my breast the

rest after unrest;" and the mesmeric eyes meet Vaura's, while

Esculapius is searching his medicine case.

"Poor fellow, you do require rest," she said, gently turning her face

up to Sir Lionel's, for she is seated at the table, both elbows

thereon, chin and cheeks supported in her hands; "if we put ourselves

in his place, Sir Andrew, fancy what rest we should have, in the full

glare of a stare from Mrs. Grundy, while the unruly member of Dame

Rumour wagged in our ear. If I were in your place, Sir Lionel, I

should give no more thought to the matter; you have given the truth

to-night to gentle woman, who will give it to the London world; Adam

will only taste through Eve's palate; and the mighty Labouchere,

Lawson & Co. will cry joyfully, 'hear! hear!'"

Both the men laughed.

"You see, my dear surgeon, Eve endorses my policy, and thinks the

sisterhood a better mode of communication than telephone or

telegraph!"

"Could have no better newsmongers as a rule, Trevalyon; but there are

Eve and Eves, and when I have a secret to confide, I shall tell it to

your charming supporter; and when I have spoken, shall feel sure ''tis

buried, and her fair person the grave of it.'"

"_Merci_! Sir Andrew, your secret will be safe; and now that I have

such a mission, from this hour you are my medical adviser, as you will

have a double interest in knowing my pulse beats. But, see, the skill

of my Esculapius triumphs."

"'Tis so; the nun revives," echoed Sir Lionel, withdrawing his gaze

from Vaura's face.

"Revives! I am glad to hear that," cried Madame, entering, her hand on

the arm of Capt. Chancer, whom she had met at the door, and followed

by the priest.

"Yes; I am glad she is better, for I want a private word with you, Sir

Lionel. Capt. Chancer has come to carry off Miss Vernon; the priest to

carry off the nun, and--"

"With all our world in couples linked, her _tete-a-tete_ will be

secured," said Vaura to Chaucer's ear, as they made their exit, and

banishing thoughts of poor Guy Travers, the sensational events of the

evening having for the time blotted from her memory the words of

Madame and Delrose in the library before dinner.

"Any newer sensations, Capt. Chancer, since our pleasant little chat

in the _salons_?"

"In my heart--no," he said quickly; "(with you a man must grasp his

opportunity to speak of himself, you are in such request); I have the

same dull pain engendered by you, and which you alone can heal; do you

believe in affinities--love at first sight? yet you must; I am not the

only man, others have suffered, and not silently;" and there is a ring

of truth in his words which she reads also in his handsome manly face;

but she says gently:

"Don't let us talk sentiment in this maddening crowd; there's a dear

fellow," returning greetings to right and left; "but listen instead to

that waltz, a song of love itself."

"Oh, yes," he said eagerly; "the song you promised you will not deny

me?"

"If you care, yes; after our waltz; and now ere we lose ourselves in

the soul-stirring music, tell me, did I hear aright, have Blanche

Tompkins and Sir Tilton Everly joined their fate together?"

"They have; Lady Everly announced the fact herself."

"Ah! instead of the _Morning Post_; 'All's well that ends well;' but

wee mouse plays a game all hazard, my dear soldier; she has taken the

plaything from under the paw of puss; puss will purr, arch her soft

neck, look lonely and loving, and win him back."

"What a power you women are! When the great powers met at Berlin, we

should have sent you to represent your sex;" and his face is lit up

with the flame from his heart as they stand in position, so that step

and note will be in rhythm, and his eyes rest on the fair flower face,

while he breathes the odour of tea-roses and clematis from her

corsage.

We shall leave them so, not an unpleasant parting, and return to the

boudoir of Mrs. Haughton.