At this garden-party, marvellous as it may appear, Lord Wynderbroke has an aunt. How old she is I know not, nor yet with what conscience her respectable relations can permit her to haunt such places, and run a risk of being suffocated in doorways, or knocked down the steps by an enamoured couple hurrying off to more romantic quarters, or of having her maundering old head knocked with a croquet mallet, as she totters drearily among the hoops.
This old lady is worth conciliating, for she has plate and jewels, and three thousand a-year to leave; and Lord Wynderbroke is a prudent man. He can bear a great deal of money, and has no objection to jewels, and thinks that the plate of his bachelor and old-maid kindred should gravitate to the centre and head of the house. Lord Wynderbroke was indulgent, and did not object to her living a little longer, for this aunt conduced to his air of juvenility more than the flower in his button-hole. However, she was occasionally troublesome, and on this occasion made an unwise mixture of fruit and other things; and a servant glided into the music-room, and with a proper inclination of his person, in a very soft tone said,
My lord, Lady Witherspoons is in her carriage at the door,
my lord, and says her ladyship is indisposed, and begs, my lord, that your lordship will be so good as to hacompany her 'ome in her carriage, my lord.
Oh! tell her ladyship I am so very sorry, and will be with her in a moment. And he turned with a very serious countenance to Alice. How extremely unfortunate! When I saw those miserable cherries, I knew how it would be; and now I am torn away from this charming place; and I'm sure I hope
And thus he took his reluctant departure, not without a brief but grave scrutiny of Mr. Vivian Darnley. When he was gone, Vivian Darnley proffered his arm, and that little hand was placed on it, the touch of which made his heart beat faster. Though people were beginning to go, there was still a crush about the steps. This little resistance and mimic difficulty were pleasant to him for her sake. Down the steps they went together, and now he had her all to himself; and silently for a while he led her over the closely-shorn grass, and into the green walk between the lime-trees, that leads down to the little bridge.
Alice, at last he said Miss Arden, what have I done that you are so changed?
Changed! I don't think I am changed. What is there to change me? she said carelessly, but in a low tone, as she looked along towards the flowers.
It won't do, Alice, repeating my question, for that is all you have done. I like you too well to be put off with mere words. You are changed, and without a causeno, I could not say thatnot without a cause. Circumstances are altered; you are in the great world now, and admired; you have wealth and titles at your feetMr. Longcluse with his millions, Lord Wynderbroke with his coronet.
And who told you that these gentlemen were at my feet? she exclaimed, with a flash from her fine eyes, that reminded him of moments of pretty childish anger, long ago. If I am changedand perhaps I amsuch speeches as that would quite account for it. You accuse me of capricehas any one ever accused you of impertinence?
It is quite true, I deserve your rebuke. I have been speaking as freely as if we were back again at Arden Court, or
Ryndelmere, and ten years of our lives were as a mist that rolls away.
She laughed.
I suppose people call that cruel which makes them suffer very much; it may be but a light look, or a cold word, but still it may be more than years of suffering to another. But I don't think, Alice, you ought to be so with me. I think you might remember old times a little more kindly.
I remember them very kindlyas kindly as you do. We were always very good friends, and always, I daresay, shall be. I sha'n't quarrel. But I don't like heroics, I think they are so unmeaning. There may be people who like them very well and There is Richard, I think, and he has thrown away his mallet. If his game is over, he will come now, and Lady May doesn't want the people to stay late; she is going into town, and I stay with her to-night. We are going to the Derby to-morrow.
I am going alsoit was so kind of her!she asked me to be of her party, said Vivian Darnley.
Richard is coming also; I have never been to the Derby, and I daresay we shall be a very pleasant party; I know I like it of all things. Here comes Richardhe sees me. Was my uncle David here?
No.
I hardly thought he was, but I saw Grace Maubray, and I fancied he might have come with her, she said carelessly.
Richard Arden laughed again, but prudently urged the point no more, intending to tell the story that evening as he and Alice drove together into town, in the way that best answered his purpose.