CHAPTER CLXXXII.

LAURA MORTIMER’S NEW INTRIGUES.

We must now return to Laura Mortimer, whom we left in Paris, and of

whom we have lost sight for some time.

It was in the evening of the fourth day after the incidents recorded

in the preceding chapter, that Laura was seated in her handsome

drawing-room, wrapped up in deep meditation.

Her thoughts were not, however, of a disagreeable nature;--for ever and

anon the fire of triumph flashed from her fine eyes, and her rich moist

lips were wreathed into a smile.

She held a book open in her hand; but her gaze was fixed upon the

ceiling as she lay, rather than sate, on the voluptuous cushions of the

purple velvet ottoman.

The windows were open, and a gentle evening breeze, which had succeeded

the stifling heat of a Parisian summer-day, fanned her countenance

and wantoned with the luxuriant ringlets that floated over her naked

shoulders,--those shoulders so white, so plump, so exquisitely shaped!

The perfumes of choice flowers and the odour of ravishing oriental

scents rendered the atmosphere fragrant: gold and silver fish were

disporting in an immense crystal globe which stood upon a marble table

between the casements--and two beautiful canaries were carolling in a

superb cage suspended in one of those open windows.

On the table near which Laura was placed, stood several crystal dishes

containing the finest fruit that the Parisian market could yield,--the

luscious pine, the refreshing melon, strawberries of extraordinary size

and exquisite flavour, cherries of the richest red, and mulberries of

the deepest purple.

A bottle of champagne stood in a cooler filled with ice; and in the

middle of the table was a superb nosegay of flowers.

The entire appearance of the room and its appointments was luxurious

in the extreme,--comfort being combined with elegance, and the means

of enjoyment distributed with taste;--while she--the mistress of the

place--the presiding genius of the scene--was pillowed voluptuously

upon the immense velvet cushions. So complete was the abandonment of

her attitude, in her deep reverie, that she seemed ten hundred times

more charming than when her artifice devised a thousand studied graces

in order to effect a conquest and captivate a lover.

One of her naked arms, plump, white, and beautifully formed, lay

across her person as the hand held the book, on which the eyes rested

not, and against the dark binding of which the taper fingers were

set off in the dazzling purity of their complexion and the rosy tint

of the almond-shaped nails: the other arm hung down negligently--not

quite straight, but gently rounded--the fingers of that hand playing

mechanically with the ottoman’s golden fringe that swept the thick

carpet. One of her legs lay stretched completely upon the ottoman: the

other hung over the side, displaying the well-formed foot, the delicate

ankle, and the robust swell of the calf. More voluptuously modelled

than Venus, but with all the elegance attributed to the form of that

fabled divinity,--handsome as Juno, without the stern imperiousness

that characterised the queen of heaven,--and with that subdued

nobility of demeanour which Diana, when out of sight of her attendant

huntresses, might have been supposed to wear,--Laura Mortimer united

in her own person the most fascinating of the charms belonging to the

three principal goddesses of heathen worship.

But let us endeavour to ascertain the subject of her thoughts, as she

lay thus wrapped up in a deep reverie.

“Fortune appears resolved to favour me, and I accept the auspicious

omen with joy. The Marquis is in my power--is my slave--inextricably

shackled by my silken chains! Four short days have been sufficient

to accomplish this victory. When first introduced to him in the

Champs Elysées, I saw that he regarded me with attention--nay, with

admiration; and I that moment signalled him out as the man who is

destined to place me in a proud position--to render me independent of

Charles Hatfield’s hated father! The evening before last I met him

for the second time: this was at the party given by my music-master.

The nobleman was almost instantly by my side, as soon as I made my

appearance; and I knew full well how to gain his favour. When handsome

young men approached me, I received them coldly, and continued my

discourse with the Marquis in a more animated and friendly style

than before. I even hinted to him--or rather suffered him to believe

that it was a relief to escape from the frivolities of the average

run of conversation, in the indulgence of discourse on intellectual

subjects. I saw that the old man was flattered--that he thought highly

of me: in a word, I secured his esteem as I had already acquired his

admiration. We sate next to each other at supper; and he lavished all

his attentions upon me--attentions which I accepted with an air as if

they came from a young and handsome gallant. The Marquis handed me to

my carriage, and solicited permission to call. I signified an assent

with an ingenuousness that could not possibly have seemed affected; and

he squeezed my hand slightly as he bade me farewell. On the following

afternoon he called: this was yesterday--and he remained a long

time. Two hours passed--doubtless like two minutes to him: and I was

completely triumphant. Never did I appear to such advantage: my glass

told me that I was radiantly beautiful--and I could observe full well

that my manner--my conversation--and the delicate artifices I called

to aid, were pre-eminently successful. The old man was ready to fall

upon his knees and worship me: he was in that humour when he would

have laid his whole fortune at my feet. He appeared to be longing to

throw his arms around my neck, and exclaim, ‘_Laura, I adore you!_’

But when I had excited him to the highest possible pitch, I suddenly

directed his attention to some subject of comparative indifference;

and thus did I play with his feelings during two long hours. He went

away half crazy--dazzled, bewildered, not knowing what to think or

how to act--intoxicated with sensual passions mingling with the

purer sentiments of a profound admiration and a cordial esteem. Then

this morning he called again, and I made him become my companion at

luncheon. I affected to be rejoiced that he had thus unexpectedly

dropped in, as I had previously felt low-spirited and dull. He seemed

charmed that his presence was calculated to cheer me: It was a delicate

compliment paid to his conversational powers--and he was flattered

and pleased. Oh! how admirably did I wind myself, as it were, around

him during the three hours that he remained with me this morning: how

successfully did I insinuate myself, as one may say, into his very

soul;--not seizing upon his heart by a sudden attack--but gaining

possession of it by means the more sure because so stealthy,--not

carrying that heart by storm--but gradually and imperceptibly enmeshing

it in snares and toils whence it never can escape, so long as my

real character shall remain a mystery to him. Yes--and this morning,

too, was he not a thousand times on the point of falling upon his

knees, and exclaiming,‘_Laura, I adore you!_’ But still I tantalised

him--still I worked him up to the highest possible pitch of excitement,

and then suddenly discouraged him by some word or gesture that threw

a coldness on all I had before said, and which yet would admit of

no positive interpretation so as to render him hopeless altogether.

And now he is to return again--this evening,--to return, by his own

solicitation;--and this evening--yes--this evening,” thought Laura, her

lips wreathing into a smile of triumph,--“he _shall_ fall down at my

feet and exclaim, ‘_Laura, I adore you!_’”

Thus ran the meditations of this dangerous woman,--so strong in the

consciousness of her almost superhuman beauty--so confident in the

power of her matchless charms and in the witchery of her guileful

tongue!

“Yes--four days will have been sufficient to reduce the proud English

noble to the condition of a captive kneeling at my feet.” she

continued, in her silent but triumphant reverie. “What other woman

in the world can thus effect a conquest with such amazing rapidity?

The tigress hunts for her prey--pursuing the affrighted deer through

bramble and through brake--by the margin of the lake in the depths

of the forest--amidst the trackless mazes of the wild woods,--a

long--tedious--and fatiguing chase, with the possibility of escape for

the intended victim after all. But the boa-constrictor fixes its eyes

upon its prey--fascinates it--renders it incapable of retreat--compels

it even to advance nearer and nearer to its mouth--plays with

it--tantalizes it--sets every feeling and every emotion into fluttering

agitation--and even when about to gorge it, licks it over with his

caresses. And thus do I secure my prey! I am the anaconda amongst

women: none whom I choose to make my victim can escape from the

influence of my witchery--the sphere of my fascination! With me it is

no long, tedious, and wearisome chase: ’tis instantaneous capture and

an easy triumph!”

And again the peculiar smile--half haughtiness, half

sweetness--returned to the lips of the peerless beauty, who felt

herself to be ten thousand times more powerful in the possession of her

transcendent charms, than an Amazonian Queen clothed in armour of proof

from head to heel.

Suddenly the bell at the outer door of her suite of apartments

announced the coming of a visitor; and in a few moments the Marquis of

Delmour was ushered into the room.

Laura had already assumed a sitting posture; and she now rose to

receive the English nobleman.

“Good evening, charming Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, taking her

hand and gently touching it with his lips: then, leading her to the

ottoman, and placing himself at a short distance from her, he looked at

her tenderly, observing, “You perceive that I am punctual to the hour

at which I was to make my appearance according to the kind permission

you granted me.”

“Your lordship is most generous thus to condescend to enliven an hour

that would otherwise be passed in loneliness by me,” said Laura,

bending upon him all the glory of her fine bright eyes and revealing

the splendour of her brilliant teeth.

“Beautiful, intellectual, and agreeable as you are, Miss Mortimer,”

observed the nobleman, “it is utterly impossible that you can feel

yourself indebted to an old man like me for the recreation of a leisure

hour. You would only need to throw open your drawing-rooms to the

_élite_ of Paris,to be surrounded by admiring guests.”

“And what if I prefer an hour of intellectual conversation to an entire

evening of empty formalities, ceremonial frivolities, and the inane

routine of fashionable _réunions_?” asked Laura, with an affectation of

candour which seemed most real--most natural.

“You possess a mind the strength and soundness of which surprise

me,” exclaimed the Marquis of Delmour, enthusiastically. “How is it

that, rich and beautiful, young and courted, as you are, you can have

taken so just a view of the world,--that you have learnt to prefer

solid enjoyments to artificial pleasures,--and that you can so well

discriminate between the _real_ on which the gay and giddy close their

eyes, and the _ideal_ or the _unreal_ which they so much worship?”

“You would ask me, my lord, I presume, wherefore I dislike that

turmoil of fashionable life which brings one in contact with persons

who flatter in a meaningless manner, and who believe that a woman is

best pleased with him who most skilfully gilds his _pretty nothings_.

It is, my lord, because I do not estimate the world according to the

usual standard,--because I am not dazzled by outside glitter and

external show. If an officer in the army be introduced to me, I am not

captivated by his splendid epaulets and his waving plumes: I wait to

hear his discourse before I form _my_ estimate of his character.”

“Then neither youth nor riches will prove the principal qualifications

of him who shall be fortunate enough to win your hand?” said the

Marquis, fixing his eyes in an impassioned manner upon the syren.

“Oh! you would speak to me upon the topic of marriage!” exclaimed

Laura, laughing gaily. “To tell your lordship the truth, I should be

sorry to surrender up my freedom beyond all possibility of release, to

any man in existence.”

“What!” ejaculated the old nobleman: “do you mean me to infer that you

will never marry?”

“I have more than half made up my mind to that resolution,” responded

Laura, casting down her eyes and forcing a blush to her cheeks.

“Never marry!” cried the Marquis, in unfeigned surprise. “And what if

you happened to fall in love with some fine, handsome, eligible young

man?”

“In the first place it is by no means necessary that a man should be

fine, handsome, or young for me to love him,” answered Laura, as if in

the most ingenuous way in the world; “and when I _do_ love, it is not

a whit the more imperious that the person or the priest should rivet

my hand to that of the object of my affections. It is within the power

of man to unite hands--and that is a mockery: but God alone can unite

hearts--and that is a solemn and sacred compact that should be effected

in the sight of heaven only.”

“I scarcely understand you, beautiful and mysterious being!” exclaimed

the Marquis, drawing nearer to the syren, who did not appear to notice

the movement.

“I am aware that some of my notions are not altogether in accordance

with those of society in general,” observed Laura, with an affectation

of reserve and diffidence: “but since the conversation has taken this

turn, I do not hesitate to admit that I do hold peculiar opinions with

respect to marriage.”

“You would have me understand, Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis,

“that were you to find your affections enchained by some deserving

individual, you would not hesitate to join your destinies to his,

without the intervention of the Church to cement the union.”

“Your lordship has interpreted my meaning in language so delicate as

to be almost ambiguous,” observed Laura. “And yet why should the truth

be thus wrapped up in verbiage? I do not entertain opinions which I am

afraid to look in the face. God forbid! In a word, then, I would ten

thousand times rather become the mistress of the man I loved, than the

wife of him whom I abhorred;--and in loving the former, and with him

loving me, is it not that union of hearts which, as I ere now said,

should be effected only in the sight of heaven?”

“And have you ever yet loved?” asked the nobleman, in a tone of

profound emotion, as he gazed long and ardently upon the splendid

countenance whereon the light from the casements now fell with a

Rembrandt effect, delineating the faultless profile against the

obscurity that had already begun to occupy the end of the room most

remote from the windows.

“Oh! my lord, that is a question which you can only ask me when we come

to know each other better!” exclaimed Laura, after a few moments’ pause.

“And yet I already feel as if I had known you for as many years as our

acquaintance numbers days,” said the Marquis. “Methought yesterday--and

this morning too--that a species of intimacy--a kind of impromptu

friendship had sprung up between us; and now you are somewhat cold

towards me--your manner is not the same----”

“If I have been guilty of any want of courtesy towards your lordship,

I should be truly--deeply grieved,” exclaimed Laura, surveying the

nobleman with well affected astonishment at the accusation uttered

against her.

“Oh! use not such chilling language, Laura--Miss Mortimer, I mean!”

cried the old nobleman, half inclined to throw himself at her feet and

implore her to take compassion upon him. “But I an mad--I am insane

to appeal to you thus!” he continued, in a species of rage against

himself. “How can I suppose that the society of an old man like me is

agreeable to a young and beautiful creature such as you!--how can I

give way to those glorious but fatal delusions that have occupied my

brain for the last forty-eight hours! Oh! Miss Mortimer--would that I

had never seen you!”

And the old nobleman, covering his face with his hands, literally

sobbed like a youthful lover quarrelling with an adored mistress.

“My lord--my lord, what have I done to offend you?” demanded Laura, as

if deeply excited; and, seizing his hands, she drew them away from his

countenance, well aware that the contact of her soft and warm flesh

would make the blood that age had partially chilled, circulate with

speed and heat in his veins.

“If you had attempted my life,” replied the Marquis, with fervid

emphasis, “I should rejoice at a deed that would elicit such kindness

from you as you manifest towards me now!”

And thus speaking, he raised her hands to his lips and covered them

with kisses.

“Tell me--how did I offend you?” she asked, in a voice that was melting

and musical even to ravishment.

“Oh! let us think not of what has passed,” he exclaimed: “but bless me

with the assurance that you can entertain a sentiment of friendship for

the old man!”

“I would rather possess your friendship, my lord, than that of the

handsomest and wealthiest young gentleman whom we met at the party

the other evening,” responded the artful woman, still abandoning her

hands to the Marquis. “Did you not observe that I was pleased with

your attentions--that I refused to dance in order that I might remain

seated next to you, and listening to your conversation--that when the

gay moths of fashion approached me with their fulsome compliments, I

exhibited signs of impatience, and by my coldness compelled them to

retreat--that I gave no encouragement to them in any way----”

“Yes--yes,” interrupted the enraptured Marquis: “I noticed all

_that_--and were I a young man I should have felt myself justified in

addressing you in the language of passion--aye, of ardent and sincere

affection. But--although such are indeed my sentiments towards you--I

perceive all the folly and ridicule of daring to give utterance to them

in your presence: yet God knows that I am ready to lay my fortune at

your feet--and could I offer to place the coronet of a marchioness upon

your brow----”

“Were you in the position to do so, I should refuse it,” said Laura,

emphatically. “All the rest I might listen to----”

“Then you are aware that I am married?” interrupted the nobleman,

fixing an earnest and enquiring gaze upon her beauteous countenance.

“Rumour declares as much,” replied Laura; “and it likewise avers that

you are not happy in your matrimonial connexion. I pity you from the

bottom of my heart--and I behold in the fact itself a new argument

in support of my own peculiar tenets relative to marriage-ties;--for

assuredly you are endowed with qualities calculated to render a woman

happy--or I am deeply, deeply deceived.”

“Ah! It is a sad tale--and I dare not venture upon the narration now,”

said the Marquis, with a profound sigh. “But should our acquaintance

continue--as I ardently hope it may--I will some day give you the

fullest and most ample explanations. And you yourself, charming

creature--is there not some mystery attached to you? How happens it

that at your age you should be so well acquainted with the world?--how

is it that you seem free to follow the bent of your own inclinations,

uncontrolled even by your mother? For rumour declares that you have a

mother alive----”

“I am independent of her in a pecuniary point of view, my lord,”

interrupted Laura; “and I am determined to consult my own ideas of

happiness, instead of adopting the standard of enjoyment and pleasure

established by the fashionable world.”

“Would to heavens that it lay in my power to ensure your happiness--or

even to contribute to it!” exclaimed the Marquis, gazing upon her

with admiration and ardent passion. “Long years have elapsed since I

encountered any woman who inspired me with even half the interest that

I feel in you; and it seems to me that I become young again when in

your sweet society.”

“And, on my side,” answered Laura, casting down her eyes and assuming

a bashful demeanour, “I do not hesitate to admit that I experience

greater enjoyment from your conversation than from that of any other

nobleman or gentleman with whom I am acquainted.”

“Just now, my sweet Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, approaching still

nearer to her, and speaking in a tone that was low and tremulous with

emotion,--“just now you declared that ‘_all the rest you might listen

to_’----”

“And I do not attempt to revoke the admission that thus fell from

my lips,” murmured the designing young woman, turning a glance of

half-timidity and half-fondness upon the old nobleman, who, in spite

of a strong and vigorous intellect, was rendered childish and plunged

as it were into dotage by the fascinating--ravishing influence of the

syren-enchantress.

“What am I to understand by those words?” he asked, in an ecstacy of

delight. “Oh! is it possible that you can become something more to the

old man than a mere acquaintance--something more than even a friend----”

“I could wish to retain your good opinion--your esteem for ever!” said

Laura, now turning upon him a countenance radiant with hope and joy.

“It is scarcely possible--I am dreaming--’tis a delicious delusion--a

heavenly vision!” murmured the Marquis in broken sentences,--for he was

dazzled by the transcendant beauty of the houri who seemed to encourage

him in the aspirations which he had formed.

“Is it, then, so extraordinary that I should have learnt to love one

who is so kind--so generous-hearted--so intellectual as yourself?”

asked Laura, leaning towards him so that her fragrant breath fanned his

countenance and her forehead for an instant touched his own.

“Great heaven! Is it possible that so much happiness awaits me?” cried

the Marquis, scarcely able to believe his eyes or his ears: then, after

gazing upon her for a few instants with all the rapturous ardour of a

youthful lover, he sank upon his knees before her, exclaiming, “_Laura,

I adore you!_”

The designing woman’s triumph was complete: the Marquis was

inextricably entangled in her snares;--and, throwing her arms around

his neck, she murmured, “Oh! it is an honour as well as a joy to

possess your love!”

Then the old man covered the charming young woman’s countenance with

kisses; and for several minutes not a word was spoken between them.

But at length the Marquis, who could scarcely believe that he had

won a prize the possession of which all the noblest, handsomest, and

wealthiest young men in Paris would envy him, began to speak upon the

course which it would be prudent for them to adopt. Laura at once gave

him to understand that she should experience no sentiment of shame in

appearing as his mistress; and she undertook--as well indeed she might

do--to reconcile her mother to this connexion which she had formed.

“Let us then return to England without delay,’ said the Marquis. “The

business which has brought me to Paris is now in such a position that

an agent may manage it for me. But tell me--is your mother dependent

upon you?”

“Entirely,” answered Laura, anticipating the course which her noble

lover was about to adopt.

“And your fortune is doubtless large?” he continued, interrogatively.

“It is not nearly so large as rumour has alleged,” was the reply.

“Still it is a handsome competency for one person.”

“Then, as there shall be nothing having even the slightest appearance

of selfishness in my attachment towards you, Laura,” resumed the

nobleman, “you must immediately assign all your property to your

mother; and I will at once--yea, at once--give you a proof of the

boundless devotion with which you have inspired me. Permit me the use

of your desk for a few moments.”

Laura rang the bell, and ordered Rosalie to bring writing materials;

and when this was done, the marquis seated himself at the table and

wrote something upon a sheet of paper. He next penned a letter, which

he folded up, sealed, and addressed; and, turning towards Laura, he

said, “This draught, beloved girl, is for the sum of sixty thousand

pounds, payable at sight at my bankers’ in London. This letter, which

you will have the kindness to send through the post to-morrow, is to

advise them of the fact of such a cheque having been given, and to

prepare them to meet it, so that there may be no hesitation in paying

such a large amount. For it will be my joy and delight to enrich you,

my dearest Laura; so that the old man may to some extent repay the

immense obligation under which he is placed by the possession of such

a heart as thine. I would not have you remain wealthy through your own

resources: henceforth you must owe every thing to me--for if you cannot

be my wife in name, you shall at least be the sharer of my fortune, as

you have consented to be the partner of my destinies.”

“Your generosity, my dear Marquis, only binds me the more closely to

you,” exclaimed Laura, lavishing upon the old man the most exciting

and apparently fervent caresses. “At the same time permit me to

remind you that there is nothing selfish in that affection which so

suddenly sprang up in my bosom towards you: because I am no needy

adventuress--no intriguing fortune-hunter,--and you are well aware

that many a French nobleman would be proud to lay his title at my feet,

were I disposed to decorate my brow with a coronet. My father--who, as

you have doubtless heard, accumulated some money in India--left me well

provided for; and that fortune I shall cheerfully abandon to my mother,

preferring to remain dependent on yourself.”

“Ah! your father dwelt a long time in India!” exclaimed the Marquis, as

if struck by a sudden idea. “Is it possible, then, that I could have

encountered your mother in England? But, no--that woman could not have

been the parent of such a lovely, charming creature as yourself!”

“To whom do you allude, my lord?” demanded Laura, now seized with the

apprehension that her mother might be known to the wealthy lover whom

she had succeeded in ensnaring, and whom she intended to fleece of the

greater portion of his fortune.

“It was but a momentary thought--it exists no longer in my mind,

dearest,” responded the nobleman, who, as he gazed upon the bright and

splendid being before him, felt an ineffable disgust at having even for

an instant associated her in any way with the loathsome old hag to whom

he was alluding. “The fact is,” he continued, “I met a certain female

in London--or rather, in the neighbourhood of London--a short time

ago--indeed, just before I left England; and this woman bore the name

of Mortimer.”

“It is not altogether an uncommon one,” observed Laura, maintaining

an unruffled countenance, though her heart palpitated with continued

apprehension.

“The singularity of the coincidence is that the female to whom I am

alluding announces herself as the widow of a General-officer who had

died in India,” resumed the Marquis.

“My lamented father was a merchant,” said Laura.

“Then of course there can be no identity in that case,” continued the

nobleman. “Besides, having an intimate acquaintance with all military

matters--as I myself held the post of Secretary at War many years ago,

and have since taken a deep interest in that department--I am enabled

to state that no General-officer of the name of Mortimer has recently

died in India.”

“The woman, then, of whom you am speaking, was an impostress?” said

Laura, interrogatively.

“I have little doubt of it,” answered the marquis. “But let us not

dwell upon a subject so perfectly indifferent to us. We were talking of

our plans. Will it suit you, dearest Laura, to quit Paris to-morrow, or

the day after at latest?”

“To-morrow, if you will,” the young woman hastened to reply: for she

now trembled lest her mother should suddenly return and perhaps prove,

though unintentionally, a marplot to all the plans which her intriguing

disposition had conceived.

“To-morrow, then, be it,” said the Marquis. “At noon I shall call for

you in my travelling-chariot. We will return by easy stages to London;

and, on our arrival in the English capital, the handsomest mansion that

money can procure shall be fitted up with all possible speed for your

abode.”

“I care not for a splendid dwelling in London itself,” replied Laura.

“Rather let me have some beautiful and retired villa in the suburbs,

where you can visit me at your leisure, and where we can pass the hours

together without intrusion on the part of a host of visitors.”

“Your ideas on this subject concur with mine,” observed the Marquis,

enchanted with the belief that Laura intended to retire from the

fashionable world and devote herself wholly to him. “The seclusion of

a charming villa will be delightful; and I think I can promise,” he

added with a smile, “that the said villa will have more of my company

than my town mansion. But I shall now take my departure--although with

reluctance: it is however necessary for me to make certain preparations

this evening, as I am to leave Paris thus unexpectedly to-morrow. For a

few hours, then, my Laura, adieu--adieu!”

The old man embraced the young woman with the most

unfeigned--unaffected fondness; and as his arms were cast about her

neck, and he felt her bosom heaving against his chest, he longed to

implore her to allow him to remain with her until the morning--for

the dalliance and the toyings he had already enjoyed had inflamed

his blood, and he aspired to be completely happy without delay. But

he feared lest he should offend her by any manifestations of sensual

longings; for he flattered himself that the connexion which had

commenced between them had its origin in sentiment on her side. He

accordingly withdrew--but reluctantly--from her embrace; and took

his departure, promising to call for her punctually at noon on the

following day.