\Jf^ 
 
 L I B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N I VERSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 v.l
 
 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION.
 
 LONDON: 
 ROBSON AND SONS, PRI^TERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.
 
 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 % SoUjI. 
 
 By CALTHORPE STRANGE. 
 
 Have I dream'd tlie "bearing of our knights 
 Tells of a manhood ever less and lower ? 
 Or wlience the fear lest this my realm, nprear'd 
 By noble deeds at one with noble vows^ 
 From flat confusion and brute violences, 
 Eeel back into the beast, and be no more ?' 
 
 Tennysos, The Last TournamenC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 TINSLEY BROTHERS, 18 CxiTHERINE ST. STRAND. 
 
 1872. 
 
 [All rights reserved.]
 
 O <J ^ 
 
 V.I 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 
 
 
 i>\ixtt-vixiii-ibzxtt^ g-esrs hzfaxt. 
 
 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. Devoueed by Bears 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 
 II. A NEW Catastrophe 
 
 
 20 
 
 J2 
 
 III. Two Loves 
 
 
 44 
 
 IV. A VAIN Struggle 
 
 
 6i 
 
 2i 
 
 V. Under the Spell . 
 
 
 77 
 
 ID 
 
 VI. The Betrothed 
 
 
 94 
 
 VII. Marie's PerilV 
 
 
 . 114 
 
 »- 
 
 VIII. Evil Counsels 
 
 
 • 125 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 IX. Confronted . 
 
 
 . 139 
 
 
 X. Where are you going 1 . 
 
 
 • 159 
 
 
 XI. Two Gun-shots 
 
 
 . 174 
 
 V 
 
 ■n 
 
 XII. Life and Death 
 
 
 . 191 
 
 XTTT. The Cowl to the Monk . 
 
 
 . 203 
 
 
 XIV. Entering on the downward Pats . 
 
 . 228 
 
 ^ 
 
 BOOK IL 
 
 
 
 K 
 
 i 
 
 ^K |rimrose fatfe. 
 I. A Choice between two Worlds of Fash- 
 
 ion 
 
 II. Supper at the Principessa's 
 III. Warned of the Peril 
 
 243 
 262 
 278
 
 Digitized by tine Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/twoworldsoffashi01stra
 
 BOOK I.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DEVOURED BY BEARS. 
 
 Lord Carleon was two-and-twenty years 
 of age, an orphan, handsome, and though 
 not rich m comparison with the fortunes 
 possessed by many other members of the 
 titled class to which he belonged, yet suffi- 
 ciently well off to enable him to live not 
 only in comfort but with elegance, in the 
 world of fashion in which he moved by 
 right of birth. 
 
 It was his misfortune to have lost his 
 mother while he was a child; and of his 
 father, who led a selfish and dissipated life, 
 he knew but little when he found himself 
 left parentless. At the time of his father's 
 death he was at Oxford, completing his 
 education, and had just reached his majority. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 He was a general favourite witli the 
 men of lii.s college, with the best of whom 
 his great natural abilities served to put him 
 on a level of intellectual equality, though 
 he made no pretence to scholastic acquire- 
 ments, nor any effort to win academic 
 honours. He had other views of the uses 
 to which he should put his youth and free- 
 dom, in the life that opened out before him 
 on the death of his father. 
 
 The ivory doors of the Temple of Plea- 
 sure were thrown open to him, and he 
 speedily found his way into its innermost 
 penetralia. For twelve months the intoxi- 
 cating and enervating draught of luxurious 
 indulgence was never absent from his lips ; 
 until at last he had drunk down to the very 
 lees of the cup, and tasted of satiety and 
 disgust. 
 
 At two-and-twenty, however, life easily 
 recoups itself for losses incurred in this way, 
 and Lord Carleon's character was of too 
 strong a type to suffer itself to be over-
 
 DEVOURED BY BEARS. 3 
 
 thrown for more than a brief space. Change 
 of scene, change of pursuit, both were open 
 to him as the natural resources of his con- 
 dition, and without hesitation he turned to 
 them for relief from the ennui and discon- 
 tent that had overtaken him; for he was 
 yet too young to fall into cynicism and the 
 mean habits of vice. 
 
 Among the possessions that had come 
 to him with the patrimonial estates was a 
 chateau, or hunting-lodge, on the borders of 
 Switzerland, in which his father had been 
 accustomed to spend a good deal of his time 
 during the later years of his life, in com- 
 ]3any with a select number of companions of 
 both sexes; whose free ways of living might 
 have attracted inconvenient observation in 
 any less secluded place. As it was, strange 
 stories were current in the mouths of the 
 peasants of the neighbourhood, concerning 
 the kind of life led there by the English 
 milor and his guests. 
 
 The chateau de Carleon was built on the
 
 4 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 side of one of the mountains of the Jura, in 
 the midst of some of the wildest and most 
 picturesque scenery of the wild and pictur- 
 esque country linking France and Switzer- 
 land ; a tract of country made to be the 
 delight of landscape painters, who flock to 
 it for materials and inspiration during the 
 summer and autumn months. 
 
 Except to these visitors, the profound 
 solitudes of the mountains are almost un- 
 known to strangers; and the valleys and 
 mountain sides are inhabited by populations 
 ignorant of every thing that passes in the 
 world beyond the bounds of their native 
 forests. 
 
 Erected some four hundred years before, 
 the chateau, though of no great size, was a 
 sombre and imposing building. Above it 
 rose a pine-forest, dark and stately; below 
 it lay a deep valley. Its whole aspect was 
 romantic, and suggestive of strange adven- 
 tures. 
 
 To this far-removed retreat Eeginald,
 
 DEVOUKED BY BEARS. 5 
 
 Lord Carleon, betook himself, to the surprise 
 and more or less to the regret of the gay 
 circles in which he had found only too much 
 pleasure. 
 
 He had, so to speak, inherited from his 
 father a love of field-sports ; at his old cha- 
 teau in the Jura this was the only passion 
 he could cultivate. Once arrived there, he 
 gave himself up with a constantly-increasing 
 ardour to hunting the fox and wild boar. 
 Day and night he devoted himself to the 
 pursuit of game. 
 
 Thus he perfectly succeeded in giving 
 to his life the thorough and complete change 
 he had sought. Isolated as he was, having 
 for companions only the few servants requi- 
 site for the guardianship of the chateau, and 
 the preservation of the game with which the 
 estate surrounding it was abundantly stocked, 
 time rarely hung heavily upon his hands. 
 The weather was his only enemy, and when 
 that showed itself unconquerably perverse, he 
 had the inexhaustible resource of his books.
 
 b TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Occasionally he varied the routine of his 
 home life, that is to say, whenever a sense 
 of its monotony happened to come upon 
 him. At these times he would descend into 
 the kitchen, and make one among his people 
 seated about the blazing pine-wood fire, 
 smoking his pipe with them, and joining in 
 their friendly chat. 
 
 He had grown to like this sort of life, 
 and it might have gone on pleasantly for 
 many years but for an adventure which 
 brought about an entire change of his des- 
 tiny. 
 
 It was December. Snow had fallen 
 heavily at intervals for three or four days, 
 followed by frost, which had given somewhat 
 of consistence to the soft crust that covered 
 the earth to the depth of two or three feet. 
 
 Old Dominique, the head-keeper, had 
 been sent by his master into the mountain 
 to see if he could discover any fresh traces 
 of the presence of wild boars, giving promise 
 of sport. He had been expected to return
 
 DEVOURED BY BEARS. 7 
 
 to the chateau by about six o'clock in the 
 evening, but at nine o'clock he had not re- 
 appeared. 
 
 Becoming seriously alarmed for the 
 safety of the old man, Lord Carleon was 
 about to dispatch half a dozen men in search 
 of him, when the bell belonging to the outer 
 C'-ate of the chateau was heard to rino:. With- 
 out a moment's delay the gate was opened, 
 and a few seconds later, Dominique entered 
 the kitchen, where his master and the others 
 were assembled. 
 
 The light from an enormous iron cande- 
 labrum, suspended above the fire-place, fell 
 full upon his face the instant he crossed the 
 threshold, and showed that he was very pale. 
 
 ' What is the matter, Dominique ?' de- 
 manded Lord Carleon kindly. ' Has any 
 thing happened to you ?' 
 
 ' No, not to me J milor,' the old man re- 
 plied. 
 
 ' To whom, then ?' 
 
 ' To poor Fran9ois Nivet and his wife,
 
 8 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 who live a little beyond Ollioles, by the 
 Goat's Knoll,' replied the keeper huskily. 
 
 ^ What has happened to them ?' 
 
 ' It hardly bears thinking of, it makes 
 the flesh creep on one's bones 1' groaned 
 Dominique with a shudder. 
 
 Lord Carleon knew the old man, that 
 his sensibility was as dried-up and callous 
 as his skin. For such words to come from 
 his lips, therefore, was a certain assurance 
 that something terrible must have occurred 
 to have produced so unusual an eifect on his 
 mind. 
 
 ' Some great misfortune has befallen the 
 poor people,' said Lord Carleon. 'Do not 
 keep us in suspense, my good Dominique.' 
 
 ' Poor souls, poor souls !' cried the old 
 man. 'They had two children — you may 
 have seen them often, milor — handsome 
 as the day, a boy and a girl, one four, the 
 other six years old. Poor Prangois, poor 
 Glaudine! they loved their little ones, as 
 good parents should, with all their hearts.'
 
 DEVOURED BY BEARS. V 
 
 'Well, well?' demanded Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' "Well,' replied the old man in a chok- 
 ing voice, ' at this moment they've — they've 
 no longer any children to love.' 
 
 'Good heavens! what has become of 
 their little ones?' 
 
 'Nothing remains of the poor things; 
 not a rag of their dress, not a fragment of 
 their flesh ! Both of them have been de- 
 voured !' 
 
 'Devoured?' cried Lord Carleon in a 
 tone of consternation, while a thrill of hor- 
 ror ran through the circle of eager listeners 
 who surrounded the old keeper. 
 
 ' Devoured !' 
 
 The word escaped from every lip like 
 a lugubrious echo. Then for a moment 
 there was a dead silence, broken by Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 ' Have the wolves in these parts so soon 
 become ferocious?' he inquiredx 
 
 'It was not wolves that did this,' re- 
 plied Dominique.
 
 10 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ^ Not Avolvcs !' 
 
 ' It was done by bears, milor.' 
 
 'Bears!' cried Lord Carleon; 'is that 
 certain ?' 
 
 ' 1 saw tliem,' replied the okl man. 
 
 Dominique never spoke falsely. The 
 fact which he affirmed was therefore cer- 
 tain, though none the less strange. 
 
 After being permitted by his master to 
 drink a small glass of brandy, for the pur- 
 pose of putting his ideas together, as he 
 said, Dominique prepared to satisfy more 
 completely the breathless curiosity of his 
 auditors. 
 
 ' Milor,' he began, ' I had been all day 
 in the woods, searching for traces of wild 
 boars upon the snow without coming on 
 any. Towards three o'clock, finding myself 
 on the other side of Ollioles, I went into 
 Fran9ois' cottage to get a glass of wine, for 
 I was tired and wanted refreshment badly.' 
 
 Dominique was always prolix beyond 
 measure in his manner of telling a story;
 
 DEVOUEED BY BEARS. 11 
 
 but those who knew him were well aware 
 that any attempt to bring him sooner to 
 the point of his narrative would simply con- 
 fuse him, and delay rather than expedite 
 the desired end. He was left therefore on 
 the present occasion to tell his story en- 
 tirely in his own way, without question or 
 interruption of any kind ; though the pati- 
 ence of his auditors was sorely tried before 
 he had done. 
 
 'rran9ois,' he continued, 'welcomed me 
 as an old comrade, and opened a bottle of 
 his best: and as I felt the beo;innino;s of an 
 appetite, his wife got down a ham, and soon 
 fried me a couple of rashers with an onion 
 or two cut fine — cut nice and fine.' 
 
 Eager and impatient as Lord Carleon 
 was to hear the tragic incidents of the old 
 man's story, he could not repress a smile 
 on hearing him lay such great stress on this 
 altogether unimportant detail. 
 
 'We were seated, Francois and I, on 
 either side of the fire,' the old man went
 
 12 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 on, 'glass and fork in hand, and our feet 
 warm in the ashes; and I was telling him 
 about some wonderful shots your late fa- 
 ther, milor, had made one day when we 
 were out in the woods together, when sud- 
 denly he interrupted me, and turned to his 
 wife to ask her where the two children 
 were. 
 
 ' Just outside in the road,' she told him, 
 playing in the snow — building castles with 
 it, and pelting each other with snow-balls.' 
 
 'No harm will come to them there,' 
 he said. Then he turned to me again, 
 and asked me to go on with the story I 
 was telling him, of a famous right-and-left 
 shot of your honoured father's. It's a story 
 rran9ois is never tired of listening to, and 
 so I tell it to him every time we meet ; but 
 I hadn't got far with it before we were both 
 startled by a sound — the cry of a child — 
 a distant cry, that stopped suddenly, as if 
 checked and not allowed to finish. 
 
 'Glaudine dropped the frying-pan she
 
 DEVOURED BY BEARS. 13 
 
 was holding ; Fran9ois looked at me, and I 
 looked at him and at his wife. We had all 
 three turned pale. I sprang up and seized 
 my gun, and Fran9ois snatched a knife from 
 the table; then both of us rushed out of 
 the cottage. 
 
 ' What a sight met our eyes ! 0, milor, 
 if I live to be a hundred, I shall never for- 
 get it ! The two children had disappeared ; 
 but at sixty paces from the door of the cot- 
 tage, we could see stains of blood upon the 
 snow, and two gray bears of enormous size 
 hurrying off in the direction of the wood of 
 La Chaise. 
 
 ' Glaudine shrieked and fell senseless. 
 At the sound of the poor woman's cry, one 
 of the bears half turned to look back, and 
 then we saw that he held in his jaws the 
 motionless body of one of her children. The 
 sight gave us a moment's courage. There 
 might still be time to save at least one of 
 the poor little innocents. 
 
 ' Fran9ois bounded on in pursuit of the
 
 14 T^YO WOELDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 bears, and I followed him as quickly as I 
 could; but I am old, and he is young, and 
 he soon distanced me. I had my gun, how- 
 ever, and he had only a knife. As soon as 
 I got within fair range, I stopped, aimed 
 carefully at the head of the brute nearest 
 to me, and fired. The bear shook his ears 
 for a moment,- but did not slacken his pace. 
 I had touched him behind the ear; but a 
 simple ball of lead and a single charge of 
 powder make hardly a scratch on such a 
 hide as his. 
 
 ' Bounding over the snow with the swift- 
 ness of a chamois, Francois passed the hin- 
 der of the two bears, then turned and faced 
 the brute. It was a terrible moment. The 
 poor father might succeed in saving one of 
 his children, but, what was more likely, he 
 might himself perish in the attempt. 
 
 ' Xeither one nor other of these events 
 happened. 
 
 ^ The bear disdained his adversary, whose 
 ill-sharpened knife failed even to penetrate
 
 DEVOURED BY BEAES. 15 
 
 the dense coat of fur Avhich covered the 
 chest of the sava<je brute. "Without turn- 
 
 o 
 
 ing to the right or left, the bear pursued 
 its course, overtlirowing Francois fainting 
 upon the snow. A moment later, the two 
 bears disappeared into the forest. 
 
 ' "When I came up to where he was ly- 
 ing, I thought poor Frangois was dead ; but 
 though he was bathed in blood, no serious 
 harm had been done to him. The bear in 
 passing had struck him on the chest with 
 its claws, and his knife had closed upon 
 three fino^ers of his rio-ht hand, and cut into 
 them deeply. 
 
 ' Seeing that all hope was over with re- 
 gard to the poor children, I carried their 
 unhappy father and mother into the cottage. 
 For nearly an hour they both remained 
 insensible: but at last they opened their 
 eyes and remembered all that had hap- 
 pened. Poor souls ! what could they do 
 but throw themselves into each other's arms 
 and weep ?
 
 16 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' I cried with them — you'll hardly credit 
 it, milor — I cried with them, for I felt it 
 was impossible to console them, and it 
 seemed to me that the only thing that could 
 at all comfort them was to let them cry to- 
 gether, and to cry a bit in company with 
 them, poor heart-broken souls. 
 
 ' By the time their grief had spent itself 
 a little, night had come on, and I had to 
 think about returning to the chateau. It 
 was dark when I left the cottage — and 
 walking in three feet of snow isn't easy, es- 
 pecially when you can t see a yard of the 
 way before you — and that's the reason, 
 milor, why I'm back so late.' 
 
 Every one of the listeners to Domi- 
 nique's terrible relation was deeply im- 
 pressed by it; but none more deeply than 
 Lord Carleon. All the incidents of the 
 shocking catastrophe were as vividly im- 
 pressed upon his mind as if he himself 
 had jbeen an actor in the distressing 
 drama. During the whole of the night he 
 
 >
 
 DEVOURED BY BEARS. 17 
 
 found it impossible to sleep without dream- 
 ing of the horrors recounted by the old 
 keeper. 
 
 As soon as it was daylight he sent for 
 Dominique. 
 
 ' Tell me/ he said; ' it is not usual for 
 bears to be in this canton, is it?' 
 
 'They are sometimes, but very rarely, 
 seen, milor. When the winters are long 
 and severe, they come down into the 
 plains.' 
 
 ' Where do you imagine those you saw 
 yesterday came from ?' 
 
 'From the high mountains, fifteen 
 leagues or more from here, milor.' 
 
 'Do you think they will go back 
 there ?' 
 
 The old hunter's eyes flashed. 
 
 ' No, by all the devils!' he cried; ' not 
 if I can prevent them !' 
 
 'We'll try together, Dominique,' said 
 Lord Carleon. ' Up to the present time 
 I've shot nothing but inoffensive game; I 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 TWO WORLDS or FASHION. 
 
 am glad of the opportunity to try a higher 
 kind of sport. Do 3-ou think these bears 
 will remain for any length of time in this 
 part of the country ?' 
 
 ' For a few days possibly.' 
 
 ' And do you think we shall be able to 
 find them?' 
 
 ' By searching well for them ; only — ' 
 
 'Only as little time as possible must 
 be allowed to elapse before the search is 
 begun? Well lose none, friend Domi- 
 nique. Do you understand the art of bear- 
 hunting ?' 
 
 ' yes, milor ; I learnt it in the Ober- 
 land, when I was young; and one doesn't 
 easily forget that sort of craft.' 
 
 'Good,' cried Lord Carleon. 'How long 
 will it take you to get ready?' 
 
 ' Time to eat a morsel of food and to 
 buckle-on my gaiters,' replied the old 
 woodsman. 
 
 ' In half an hour / shall be ready to 
 start,' said Lord Carleon.
 
 DEVOURED BY BEARS. 19 
 
 Dominique bowed and retired, full of 
 admiration of his master, and satisfaction at 
 the idea of taking vengeance on the savage 
 destroyers of his poor friend's children.
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 A NEW CATASTKOPHE. 
 
 A SUBSTANTIAL breakfast of cold meat, with 
 two or three glasses of Madeira, was quickly 
 taken by Lord Carleon, who then put on 
 his shooting-dress. While he was complet- 
 ing the buttoning of his gaiters, Dominique 
 tapped at his door, and asked permission to 
 speak with him. 
 
 ' You see I am ready,' said Lord Car- 
 leon, when the old man had entered the 
 room. ' Is there anything you want?' 
 
 ' I want to ask you a question, milor, 
 that's all,' replied Dominique, crossing to a 
 stand of arms placed against one of the 
 four sides of the room. 
 
 ' A question! What is it?
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 21 
 
 ' Which of these guns are you going to 
 take with you to-day ?' 
 
 'The one I always carry,' answered 
 Lord Carleon. 
 
 The old keeper shook his head. 
 
 ' Too light, milor,' he said ; ' it hits hard 
 enough when it's only a question of knock- 
 ing over a hare or a roebuck, but it'll do no 
 damage to a bear.' 
 
 ' In that case,' replied Lord Carleon, ' as 
 you know all the guns in this room, point 
 out to me the one I ought to take.' 
 
 Dominique's eyes sparkled with plea- 
 sure as he laid his hand upon a short 
 double-barrelled gun of extremely plain 
 appearance. Lord Carleon was struck with 
 the expression of the old keeper's face as 
 he took the weapon from its place in the 
 2un-rack. 
 
 'A special interest of some sort attaches 
 to that gun, I fancy?' he remarked. 
 
 ' It was the favourite gun of your late 
 father, milor, when he went to shoot the
 
 22 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 wild boar. It has not its fellow in any gun 
 I ever saw.' 
 
 ' Certainly, then, it's the one I will take/ 
 said Lord Carleon, drawing from his pocket 
 his powder-flask, and also some bullets and 
 wads, preparatory to loading the piece. 
 
 ' What is milor going to do ?' inquired 
 the old man-, with an air of blank astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 ' Load my gun, as you see,' replied his 
 master, smiling at what appeared the odd- 
 ness of the question. 
 
 'With these?' demanded] Dominique, 
 taking up one of the bullets and a wad, and 
 disdainfully making them dance in the hol- 
 low of his hand. 
 
 'Why not with these?' inquired Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 Dominique once more shook his head. 
 
 ' If I am not to put bullets in my gun, 
 w^hat am I to put?' cried Lord Carleon, 
 becoming somewhat impatient under the 
 repeated objections of the old forester.
 
 A NEW CATASTllOPHE. 23 
 
 ' These, milor,' replied Dominique, plac- 
 ing on the table before his master some 
 iron slugs an inch and a half long, flat at 
 one end and pointed at the other ; ' nothing 
 but these will find their way through the 
 hide of a bear, which is so tough that a 
 leaden bullet does little more than tickle 
 
 it; 
 
 ' Oblige me by loading my gun yourself, 
 Dominique,' said his master, smiling again. 
 
 When this important operation had 
 been performed to the old keeper's entire 
 satisfaction, he and Lord Carleon started in 
 quest of the bears. 
 
 On quitting the chateau, they naturally 
 turned their steps in the direction of the 
 scene of the tragedy of the preceding day. 
 They found the cottage of the unfortunate 
 Francois shut up ; and they afterwards as- 
 certained that, on the news being spread of 
 the dreadful misfortune which had over- 
 taken the husband and wife, their relatives 
 had taken them away from a place where
 
 24 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 every object wonld remind them of tlieir 
 misery. 
 
 A snow- castle, commenced by the child- 
 ren, was still standing intact, and scattered 
 about were a number of snow-balls, made 
 by their hands ; and near these fragile me- 
 mentos of their innocent pleasure cut short 
 by death, there were broad stains of blood. 
 Tears rose to the eyes of the two men at 
 this pitiful sight. 
 
 Farther on, a short distance, they came 
 upon the traces of poor Fran9ois' vain at- 
 tempt to stop the ferocious beast. At this 
 spot the snow was trampled and reddened ; 
 and there the marks of human footsteps 
 ceased to be visible. The course taken by 
 the two bears towards the woods was plainly 
 distinguishable, however. 
 
 The forest reached, the real difficulties 
 of the pursuit commenced. Here and there 
 the wide-spread branches of the firs had 
 prevented a single flake of snow from fall- 
 ing to the earth. On the clear spaces thus
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 25 
 
 left all trace of the bears was lost ; for 
 among tlie most cunning of wild animals, 
 as they are well known to be, the bears, of 
 which Lord Carleon and his old servant 
 were in search, had taken advantage of 
 every spot bare of snow, either to spare 
 themselves fatigue, or to guard against 
 pursuit. 
 
 After forcing their way some two 
 leagues through the forest. Lord Carleon, 
 feeling both tired and hungry, sat down at 
 the foot of a gigantic fir, and in company 
 with Dominique partook of food v/hich the 
 old man had brought with him. 
 
 Speedily refreshed and ready to con- 
 tinue the search. Lord Carleon exclaimed 
 as he rose to his feet : 
 
 ' Will these infernal brutes lead us much 
 farther?' 
 
 ' There's no saying,' replied Dominique, 
 calmly. 
 
 ' I'd give a good deal to come at once 
 face to face with them,' cried Lord Carleon.
 
 26 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' Whenever that happens, milor/ said 
 the old man very gravely, ' don't forget 
 what I'm going to tell you.' 
 
 'What is that?' 
 
 ' Kever fire at a distance ; wait till the 
 animal comes close to you; seize the mo- 
 ment when, rising on its hind feet and 
 spreading its paws to embrace and stifle 
 you, it opens its jaws; then boldly take 
 aim at the interior of its throat, and fire 
 both barrels. If your hand is only steady^ 
 milor, the bear will fall dead at your 
 feet.' 
 
 ' I'll not forget your good council, Domi- 
 nique, be sure of it,' replied Lord Carleon. 
 
 And the two once more started with 
 ardour in quest of the terrible brutes they 
 were seeking to destroy. 
 
 The farther they advanced into the 
 forest, the greater were the difiiculties they 
 had to encounter. In many places, Avhere 
 the trees consisted entirely of firs, the traces 
 they were following ended suddenly, and
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 27 
 
 they had to explore in all directions over 
 the space of a quarter of a league before the 
 bears' track was re-discovered. 
 
 Day at length began to decline, and, 
 sinking from fatigue as they were, it became 
 necessary to find a shelter for the night. 
 To enable them better to judge of their 
 position, Lord Carleon ascended to the top 
 of one of the tallest firs he could find, from 
 which point of view he was so fortunate as 
 to observe two white films of smoke relieved 
 against the rapidly darkening sky, and indi- 
 cating the presence of two habitations at no 
 great distance, that to the right appearing 
 to be the nearer of the two. 
 
 Towards this point, Avhich promised to 
 be soonest gained, they bent their steps, 
 and in half an hour or so they reached the 
 threshold of a woodman's hut, the door of 
 which stood open, as if in sign of hospitality. 
 As the two tired hunters entered, they saAV, 
 to their great satisfaction, a roaring fire 
 upon the hearth.
 
 28 TWO WOKLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 The woodman and his mfe, two worthy- 
 old people, received their unlooked-for 
 guests as well as they could, their poverty 
 not preventing them from setting before the 
 hungry pair a meal to which they did ample 
 justice. 
 
 As soon as Lord Carleon had appeased 
 his appetite, he turned to his host, to ques- 
 tion him on the subject of the bears of which 
 he and Dominique were in quest. He could 
 hardly have addressed himself to a better 
 informant. 
 
 ' yes,' answered the woodman, ' I 
 know all about them. They came down 
 from the high mountains above a month 
 ago, and established themselves about a 
 league and a half from here; and they've 
 kept everybody in these parts in constant 
 alarm ever since. They've already devoured 
 a horse, two cows, and several sheep. They 
 are always on the move ; sometimes to the 
 right, sometimes to the left. As you've 
 followed them from Ollioles, I should say
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 29 
 
 it's pretty certain they'll remain for a few 
 days in the neighbourhood of their lair/ 
 
 ' Do you know whereabouts their lair 
 is?' asked Lord Carleon eagerly. 
 
 ' Certainly,' replied the woodman. ' It's 
 in a cave in the Dent du Chien, by the edge 
 of the Fosse aux Loups.' 
 
 Dominique, who had not so far taken 
 any part in the conversation between his 
 master and the old woodman, now broke in. 
 
 ' I know it ! I know it !' he cried, nodding 
 his head vigorously. ' I have often accom- 
 panied your late father through this part of 
 the country, and know every turn of it. 
 The Dent du Chien is a great pile of rocks, 
 thrown upon one another; and on the top 
 of all there is a big white stone, which, from 
 afar, seems to have the shape of a young 
 dog's tooth, which accounts for its name.' 
 
 'And what is the Fosse aux Loups?' 
 asked Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' It's a wide gulf, more than two hundred 
 feet deep, the sides of which are nearly per-
 
 30 TWO WORLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 peiidicular ; so that it is impossible for a 
 man to descend by them to the bottom.' 
 
 ' Do you also know where the cave is, of 
 which this good man has told us ?' 
 
 ' No, milor ; I own I don't know that,' 
 replied Dominique. 
 
 ^I know it well, monsieur,' said the 
 woodman, ' and could guide you to it blind- 
 fold.' 
 
 This important point settled, it was 
 arranged that the adventure of the bears' 
 cave should be attempted early on the fol- 
 lowing morning ; and as the evening was by 
 this time far advanced, the woodman and 
 his wife retired to their bed, and Lord Car- 
 leon and Dominique laid themselves down 
 in their clothes upon a pile of sweet heather 
 spread for them beside the fireplace. 
 
 Lord Carleon was soon sound asleep, 
 and dreamed that he saw the sides of the 
 largest room in his chateau entirely hung 
 with bear-skins, the spoils of his hunting 
 prowess. Before it was barely light in the
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. SI 
 
 morning Dominique aroused him, and in- 
 formed him it was time to start for the 
 Fosse aux Loups. 
 
 Guided by the okl woodman, Lord Car- 
 leon and Dominique followed, for the space 
 of three-quarters of an hour, a broad and 
 well-defined path through the forest, and at 
 length passed before a small house, the sur- 
 rounding grounds of which were enclosed 
 with high palings. 
 
 This house, though simple and modest 
 in appearance, was evidently not the abode 
 of peasants. From the road the garden 
 was separated by a wall some four feet high, 
 through the barred gate of which could be 
 seen a short avenue leading up to the house. 
 
 At the sound of footsteps a black dog, 
 of the Abruzzi breed, and of the largest size, 
 raised himself against the bars of the gar- 
 den-gate, and began to bark in a formidable 
 tone. 
 
 ' Quiet, Fidele ! quiet, old fellow !' cried 
 the woodman in a caressing way.
 
 32 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 The dog, instantly recognising the 
 speaker, ceased barking, and bounded with 
 pleasure. 
 
 ' What a magnificent animal !' cried 
 Lord Carleon. ' Do you know whether it 
 is for sale ?' 
 
 For a moment the woodman looked at 
 his interrogator with an expression in his 
 face that suggested as plainly as words that 
 no more stupid question could possibly have 
 been put to him. The only answer he re- 
 turned at first was a loud burst of laughter. 
 
 Tor sale! Fidele for sale !' he cried at 
 length. ' What an idea ! Fidele's no light 
 weight, as you may easily reckon for your- 
 self, by his size; but if you were to offer 
 for him his weight in gold, you wouldn't 
 get him !' 
 
 'His owner sets great store by him, 
 then T remarked Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' Not more than he deserves,' replied the 
 old woodman warmly. ' He's as good a 
 guard to the house as any ten men would
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 33 
 
 be any day; with him on watch, these 
 ladies may sleep as quietly and securely 
 in this out-of-the-way place as if they 
 were living in the very middle of a big vil- 
 lage.' 
 
 'And who are these ladies?' asked Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 ' Madame Simon and her daughter, 
 monsieur.' 
 
 ' Madame Simon ?' 
 
 ' As kind and good a lady as ever 
 breathed !' cried the honest woodman. 
 'She's the widow of a sub-lieutenant of 
 gendarmerie, who left her almost without 
 fortune, and with a little daughter — beauti- 
 ful as the day when her father died ten 
 years ago, and more beautiful than ever 
 now. Madame Simon is not rich — more's 
 the pity ; but, though she has only this 
 house and a small sum in the funds to live 
 upon, she constantly finds means in hard 
 times to lend a helping hand to others still 
 poorer than herself.' 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 64: TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' And she lives liere all the year round ? 
 and alone?' 
 
 ' That is to say, with her daughter and 
 a maid-servant, and, as I told you, Fidele.' 
 
 ^ Three women living alone in this lone 
 spot, and through the long winter nights !' 
 cried Lord Carleon. ' They must be en- 
 dowed with little short of super-human 
 courage !' 
 
 ' 0, monsieur,' replied the woodman, 
 ' Madame Simon does nothing but good to 
 all about her ; and there's nobody hereabouts 
 evil-disposed enough to wish to do her any 
 harm. And besides she has Fidele ; and 
 Fidele, as I said before, is as good a guar- 
 dian as any ten men would be.' 
 
 The subject was not pursued any farther ; 
 the difficulties of the ground demanding the 
 undivided attention of the whole party. 
 
 Soon after passing Madame Simon's 
 house, they found their progress impeded 
 by obstacles of all kinds — shattered trunks 
 of trees, great jutting masses of rock, enor-
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 35 
 
 mous fragments of granite. The snow was 
 thickly spread over all these objects, hiding 
 them from view or diss^uisins: their true 
 shapes, thus rendering them highly dan- 
 gerous to whoever ventured amongst them. 
 
 It was a break-neck journey, indeed, 
 every step of the way; but the hunters 
 were fortunate enough to reach the foot of 
 the Dent du Chien without accident, after 
 parting with their guide, whose services 
 were no longer needed. 
 
 The gulf called the Fosse aux Loups 
 was of circular form and profound depth. 
 On the face of the solid and almost perpen- 
 dicular rock, grew here and there a few 
 stunted bushes. On one side only, a sort 
 of natural path — unequal, tortuous, and 
 strewn with gigantic stones — led up to the 
 heap of granite blocks crowned by the Dent 
 du Chien. 
 
 Among these blocks and half hidden by 
 shrubs the openings of two or three caverns 
 were to be seen. In one of these, if the
 
 36 TWO WOKLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 woodman's intelligence was correct, the 
 bears of which Lord Carleon was in pur- 
 suit had taken up their temporary abode. 
 
 ' This is the place, milor,' said Domi- 
 nique. 
 
 ' We had better at once scale the rocks 
 and search the caverns, then, I suppose,' 
 replied his master. 
 
 'Pardon me, milor, that would be to 
 run a great risk, without any chance of 
 success,' answered the old hunter. ' What 
 we have to do is to wait till the brutes 
 come out of their den, on their way into the 
 open country ; they must take this path, and 
 will meet us on their road.' 
 
 ' You have experience in this kind of 
 sport, and I have none,' said Lord Carleon; 
 ' I leave you to make all the arrangements 
 as you think best.' 
 
 Dominique promised to do his utmost 
 to deserve his master's confidence, and then 
 set himself to examine the ground carefully. 
 When he had completed his survey, he
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 37 
 
 pointed to a fragment of granite, about four 
 feet high and about the same width, which 
 had fallen from the rocks above into the 
 middle of the pathway. 
 
 ' That will be an excellent post for you, 
 milor,' he said; ' stationed behind that block, 
 you will have at once a rampart to protect 
 you from the attack of the beasts, and a rest 
 for your gun, so that you may aim with 
 certain effect.' 
 
 ' And where are you going to place your- 
 self?' demanded Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' There,' replied the old man, after look- 
 ing about him for a moment, — 'there.' 
 
 He pointed down into the gulf, where, 
 some five or six feet from the brink, the 
 shattered remains of a fir-tree, that had at 
 some time taken root in a crevice of the 
 rock, but had been torn away by the force 
 of an avalanche, or by the falling of the 
 rocks above it, were seen offering a frail 
 resting-place for the feet of an adventurous 
 hunter. The post was a dangerous one, but
 
 38 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 in all other respects well cliosen for the 
 purpose. 
 
 At the moment, however, when the two 
 hunters were about to take up the positions 
 determined on, they were startled by a 
 wholly unexpected sound — a wild and pro- 
 longed roar, such as Lord Carleon had never 
 before heard — coming from a pine-wood 
 some half a league to the right of the track 
 taken by the hunters and their guide up to 
 the Fosse aux Loups. 
 
 ' What can be the meaning of that ?' 
 inquired Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' It means, milor, that these bears have 
 been earlier risers than we. They've al- 
 ready left their den.' 
 
 'And so, for to-day at least, we shall 
 have our labour for our pains ?' 
 
 ' That's quite certain. But to-morrow 
 we will do better — or rather to-nio;ht, for 
 we had best be back here before the day 
 dawns.' 
 
 As there was nothing else to be done,
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 6>) 
 
 Lord Carleon and the old hunter returned 
 to the woodman's hut, where they spent the 
 rest of the day. 
 
 At two o'clock on the following mornmg, 
 by the light of the moon, the two hunters 
 once more took their way to the Fosse aux 
 Loups, passing the house of Madame Simon, 
 where they were saluted by the deep-toned 
 voice of the watchful Fidele. 
 
 By the time they reached the foot of the 
 Dent du Chien the moon was hidden behind 
 the mountain- tops, and there was but just 
 light sufficient to enable them to take their 
 stations at the points agreed upon. 
 
 To Lord Carleon it seemed an age before 
 the first signs of dawn became visible. He 
 kept his eyes constantly turned towards the 
 openings of the caverns, and he had his gun 
 ready to his hand. At length the heavy 
 silence which hung upon the wild and 
 gloomy place was broken by a light sound, 
 as if made by the passage of some object 
 moving cautiously through the bushes that
 
 40 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 overhung the abyss, into which a stone fell, 
 bounding from ledge to ledge. 
 
 ' Be ready, milor ; and take care of your- 
 self,' cried Dominique, in a voice raised 
 little above a whisper. 
 
 The words had hardly reached Lord Car- 
 leon's ears before one of the two bears ap- 
 peared at the mouth of one of the caverns, 
 roaring loudly. After sniffing the air sus- 
 piciously several times, he began slowly to 
 descend among the rocks; his companion 
 following at four or five paces behind him, 
 and both scarcely distinguishable in the dim 
 light from the rocks amid which they were 
 moving. 
 
 Of Dominique Lord Carleon could see 
 nothing but the head and arms, and the 
 barrel of his gun, the butt of which rested 
 as^ainst his rio^ht shoulder. Like the old 
 hunter. Lord Carleon held himself ready to 
 fire without a moment's delay, when the 
 time for doing so arrived. 
 
 The two bears, preserving their respec-
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 41 
 
 tive distance, came along the path on which 
 Lord Carleon was stationed, increasing their 
 pace to a slow trot as the ground became 
 freer of impediments. For an instant they 
 were lost to sight, at a point where the path 
 took a sudden turn; but the crunching of 
 the snow under their heavy paws was still 
 to be heard. 
 
 Presently the foremost of the bears re- 
 appeared, and advanced about a dozen paces 
 in the direction of Lord Carleon, when a 
 vivid flash rose above the edges of the abyss, 
 followed by the sharp report of Dominique's 
 gun. With a roar of pain, the leading ani- 
 mal fell crashing into the gulf, at the bottom 
 of which it expired in agony. 
 
 For an instant the second bear stopped, 
 as if terrified and in doubt what to do ; but 
 then it seemed to take a sudden resolution — 
 a resolution to avenge its slaughtered com- 
 panion. Scrambling swiftly over the rough 
 ground, it made direct for the jutting rock 
 behind which Lord Carleon was posted.
 
 42 TWO WORLDS OF FASIIIOX. 
 
 A moment later its iron claws were 
 grating on the granite, above which its 
 fierce half- opened jaws quickly rose on Lord 
 Carleon's sight. Eemembering all the old 
 hunter's advice, Lord Carleon took a quick 
 but steady aim at the terrible brute, and 
 pressed both triggers at the same time. 
 
 At the moment of his gun's discharge, a 
 cry that almost froze his blood reached Lord 
 Carleon's ear, and as he turned his eyes 
 involuntarily towards the spot where, far 
 below him, Dominique had stationed him- 
 self, a terrible spectacle met his view. 
 
 The roots of the shattered tree, to the 
 strength of which the old hunter had trusted 
 his safety, had given way beneath his weight ; 
 and Lord Carleon saw the brave old man — 
 after vainly struggling to gain a hand-hold 
 upon the remorseless rock — plunged into the 
 awful abyss, at the bottom of which he found 
 instantaneous death. 
 
 Almost before Lord Carleon had realised 
 the horrible catastrophe, however, he had
 
 A NEW CATASTROPHE. 43 
 
 passed into unconsciousness. The death- 
 roar of the monster he had shot rang in his 
 ears, a whirl of fetid breath was cast into his 
 face, and a weight as of a mountain fell upon 
 his chest. 
 
 His last thought was, 'I am a dead 
 man !'
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TWO LOVES. 
 
 LoKD Carleon escaped witli life, however, 
 though sorely crushed by the enormous 
 brute which had fallen on him in its death- 
 agony. 
 
 When, after an interval of many hours, 
 he returned to consciousness, he at first 
 imao'ined himself to be under the influence 
 of a dream. The Dent du Chien, the bears, 
 and the abyss had all disappeared. He felt 
 as if every limb of his body was broken, 
 and found himself as incapable of making 
 the slightest movement, as if he had been 
 stricken with paralysis. 
 
 By degrees he realised the fact that he 
 was lying in a bed, and that he was wounded 
 both in the head and chest. He perceived
 
 TWO LOVES. 45 
 
 too that it was night-time, the only hght in 
 the chamber being that of a wood-fire glow- 
 ing upon the hearth. 
 
 Closing his eyes once again, he tried to 
 recall the circumstances which had led to his 
 present condition ; and recollection served 
 him only too faithfully. The cry of despair 
 raised by old Dominique as he sank into the 
 horrid gulf — the very scent of the ferocious 
 bear's infected breath — returned to him with 
 all the terribleness of a second reality ; and 
 once more he became insensible, and re- 
 mained so for nearly fourteen hours. 
 
 The voices of two persons speaking in 
 subdued tones near his bed were the first 
 sounds that vaguely reached his ears on 
 his at length returning to consciousness. 
 The fresh pure quality of one of the two 
 voices marked it as unmistakably that of a 
 young girl ; the second voice was that of a 
 man of mature years. He listened dreamily 
 to a conversation carried on by the two 
 speakers.
 
 46 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 'Well, doctor?' demanded the young 
 girl, in a tone that implied strong interest 
 in the answer sought. 
 
 ' He's better,' replied the other speaker. 
 
 'Much? 
 
 ' More than I had ventured to expect.' 
 
 'You have hopes now, then ?' 
 
 ' Yes. His face is calm, and I find that 
 he is almost free from fever.' 
 
 ' Yesterday evening you were uneasy, 
 were you not ?' 
 
 ' Decidedly so.' 
 
 ' What did you fear — since, as you told 
 me, no essential organ had been injured?' 
 
 ' What I told you then, I tell you now, 
 my dear ; but the shock given to the system 
 has been very violent, and 1 was justified in 
 dreading the appearance of tetanus^ or lock- 
 jaw — from which there would have been no 
 hope of saving him.' 
 
 ' But you have now ceased to feel un- 
 easy, is it not so, doctor?' 
 
 ' In great part, at least.'
 
 TWO LOVES. 47 
 
 '■ 0, how giacl I am to hear you say even 
 that!' 
 
 This last exclamation, pronounced in the 
 gentlest accents by the young girl, produced 
 on Lord Carleon a delightful effect. He 
 figured to himself, as he lay with closed 
 eyes, that an angel had miraculously saved 
 him from the death which had threatened 
 him ; and that this angel still continued her 
 mission of protection, watching over him till 
 his cure should be completed. Then he 
 opened his eyes. 
 
 The vision took bodily form. 
 
 A young girl, of seventeen at most, stood 
 by his bedside, her radiant face turned to- 
 wards him, and seeming to regard him with 
 profound interest. Raphael, the painter of 
 Madonnas, never dreamed of a head more 
 chaste and perfectly ideal for his Vngins. 
 
 Her fair face was relieved, as by a golden 
 frame, by her rich blonde hair. Long silken 
 lashes of somewhat a darker hue veiled her 
 large blue eyes, and softened vdth light
 
 48 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 shadows the already tender expression of 
 their regard. Her slender form took a new 
 grace even from the extreme simplicity of 
 her dress, which was made of a woollen 
 fabric of sober colour. 
 
 Instantly on observing that the invalid's 
 eyes were unclosed, she started and retreated 
 from the bedside ; and immediately her place 
 was taken by a man of venerable aspect 
 dressed in black. 
 
 ' How do you find yourself now, mon- 
 sieur?' inquired this person. 
 
 ' With the exception of an oppression of 
 the chest, and a pain in the head,' replied 
 Lord Carleon, ' I am tolerably well, I think.' 
 
 ' Very good,' said the doctor, feeling his 
 patient's pulse ; ' going on as well, indeed, as 
 I could possibly expect or wish. You have 
 nothing to do but to rest quietly in your 
 bed, and try and sleep as much as you can. 
 By the morning I hope both the oppression 
 and the headache will have left you.' 
 
 While the doctor was speaking, a door
 
 TWO LOVES. 49 
 
 of the chamber opened, and with a joyous 
 yelp, a large dog bounded towards the bed, 
 and fell to licking one of Lord Carleon's 
 hands which hung over the side. 
 
 * Come here, come here, Fidele !' cried 
 an unseen speaker, from the farther side of 
 the room; and the dog immediately obeyed 
 the summons. 
 
 The name given to the dog instantly re- 
 called to Lord Carleon's recollection the 
 noble animal he had so much admired, and 
 at the same time told him that he was then 
 under the roof of Madame Simon. 
 
 No assurance could have been more 
 agreeable to him. The account of that lady 
 and her daughter given him by the old 
 woodman returned immediately to his mind, 
 and made him regard his misadventure al- 
 most in the light of a piece of good fortune, 
 since it had procured him admittance to 
 their home. He would have entered at once 
 into conversation, but that the doctor earn- 
 estly begged him to refrain from talking. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Meanwhile the ladies had retired from 
 the room ; the doctor shortly afterwards 
 followed and gave them his directions as to 
 the treatment of their guest. Left alone and 
 in perfect silence, Lord Carleon, after mus- 
 ing for a brief space on the circumstances 
 of his position, sank into a tranquil and re- 
 freshing sleep which lasted uninterruptedly 
 through the night. 
 
 When he awoke the next morning, his 
 condition fully realised the hopes expressed 
 by the doctor. He had recovered sufficient 
 strength to be able to raise himself upon his 
 elbow and look about him. 
 
 A pale ray of winter sunlight penetrated 
 the lattice- window of the room he was lying 
 in, and fell upon the carefully-polished red- 
 brick floor. Opposite the foot of the bed 
 was a common stone-built fireplace, in which 
 several large blocks of wood were burning. 
 On the chimney-piece, in the centre under 
 a glass shade, stood a small figure of the 
 Saviour, modelled in wax ; and at either end
 
 TWO LOVES. 51 
 
 was placed a bright brass candlestick, al- 
 most as large as those used in churches, 
 each holding an unlit candle of white wax. 
 
 The rest of the furniture — almost poor 
 in quality — was marked by irreproachable 
 neatness. A few engravings, representing 
 religious subjects, in frames of black wood, 
 were hung upon the walls, and relieved from 
 absolute barrenness the plain paper of gray- 
 ish hue with which they were covered. 
 
 Lord Carleon had scarcely finished mak- 
 ing these few observations, when the doctor 
 came into the room, and looked at his pa- 
 tient with a smile of satisfaction. 
 
 ' A-ha!' he cried; ' it appears that I was 
 not far wrong in my calculations. You 
 have passed an excellent night, and all is 
 going well with you. Tell me — are you 
 still suffering any pain ?' 
 
 ^N"one whatever; and, except that I 
 feel extremely weak, it seems to me that 
 there is nothins: the matter with me.' 
 
 ' As to the weakness, it's easily accounted 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UWIUPOQITV
 
 52 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 for/ replied the doctor cheerily. 'It is the 
 result of a pretty free bleeding, to which I 
 was obliged to subject you to keep down 
 fever.' 
 
 ' Accept my best thanks for your atten- 
 tion, my dear doctor,' said Lord Carleon ; 
 ' and pray add to my obligations to you by 
 telling me how it has come about that I find 
 myself here.' 
 
 ' In the simplest manner possible. The 
 day before yesterday, about three o'clock in 
 the morning, you left the hut of Jean Nicod 
 the woodman, to place yourself, with your 
 companion, in ambuscade by the Fosse aux 
 Loups. Finding that you had not either of 
 you returned by the middle of the day, and 
 suspecting that some harm had befallen you, 
 he went in search of you. 
 
 ' His worst fears were realised. On ar- 
 riving at the edge of the abyss, he found 
 you lying under the carcass of one of the 
 two bears you had been hunting, and the 
 weight of the enormous brute crushing you
 
 TWO LOVES. 53 
 
 to death. With infinite care, he got you 
 from under the bear, and then took you upon 
 his shoulders, and carried you to a door 
 which he knew would be opened to receive 
 you. 
 
 ' Madame Simon, that living image of 
 heaven's own charity, received you as she 
 might have received a dying son. She at 
 once sent for me — her friend of twenty 
 years ; and when I was able to assure her 
 that your injuries were less serious than 
 they had at first appeared to be, the happi- 
 ness she felt was an abundant reward for 
 her care. The good report I shall now be 
 able to make of your condition will give her 
 still farther pleasure. 
 
 ' To-morrow, monsieur,' continued the 
 doctor, ' I shall hope to let you get up for 
 an hour; and in four or five days, if all 
 goes well, and you desire to do so, you 
 will be strong enough to return to your own 
 home.' 
 
 Lord Carleon warmly thanked the good
 
 54 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 doctor for his kindness ; but added, hesitat- 
 ingly, 
 
 ' You have not spoken of the old at- 
 tendant who was with me at the Fosse aux 
 Loups, — Dominique ?' 
 
 The doctor turned away his head, and 
 made no answer. 
 
 There was no mistaking the significance 
 of the gesture. Up to that moment Lord 
 Carleon had entertained a vague hope that 
 his old servant might have escaped death; 
 but the marked silence of the doctor spoke 
 as plainly as words. Dominique had per- 
 ished. 
 
 Lord Carleon's eyes filled with tears as 
 the terrible certainty impressed itself upon 
 his mind. 
 
 Almost before he had recovered his self- 
 possession, Madame Simon, accompanied by 
 her daughter, entered the chamber. She 
 appeared to be little over forty years of 
 age; and she was still handsome, her re- 
 gular and softly-outhned features express-
 
 TWO LOVES. O'J 
 
 ing almost evangelical goodness and cha- 
 rity. She wore a black dress and a cap of 
 black crape, which partly concealed her 
 prematurely-whitened hair. 
 
 Madame Simon still mourned the loss 
 of her husband, and she had vowed to wear 
 mourning for the remainder of her life, in 
 unison with the life-long mourning of her 
 heart. 
 
 'Come in, come in,' cried the doctor, 
 observing that she hesitated at the thresh- 
 old of the door, and interrogated him by 
 her looks, — 'come in; our patient will be 
 happy to have an opportunity to thank you 
 for your kind hospitality and ceaseless 
 care.' 
 
 Madame Simon approached the bed, her 
 handsome face illumined by a smile, and 
 vnth a look of almost maternal tenderness. 
 
 ' Heaven be thanked, monsieur, that all 
 danger is past !' she cried, in answer to the 
 expression of his grateful acknowledgments 
 of her kindness. Then turning to the
 
 56 TWO WORLDS OF FASIIIOX. 
 
 doctor, she asked : ' Your patient is still 
 very weak, is he not?' 
 
 'Doubtless he is,' replied the doctor; 
 for he has not only lost a good deal of 
 blood, but he has eaten nothing for forty- 
 eight hours.' 
 
 ' May he eat something now ?' 
 
 ^ Certainly ; so long as it is something 
 light and easy of digestion.' 
 
 ' I have had some chicken-broth made ; 
 a cup of this will not hurt him, I think.' 
 
 Madame Simon directed her dauo^hter 
 to instruct the servant to bring a cup of 
 the broth ; and the damsel left the room. 
 
 In a few moments she reappeared, in 
 company with a young girl carrying a cup- 
 ful of broth on a plate of coarse china. 
 This girl's name was Marie, and she was the 
 only servant of Madame Simon. 
 
 Marie was twenty years of age. She 
 was born on the shores of the Lake of 
 Geneva, and now wore the picturesque 
 costume of the women of her country, —
 
 TWO LOVES. 57 
 
 a short petticoat of blue woollen stuff, 
 trimmed at the bottom with a wide band of 
 black velvet; a black tightly-fitting bodice 
 pressed in her supple waist, and well dis- 
 played the rounded graces of her form; 
 long plaits of ebony-hued hair escaped 
 from under her little black velvet cap and 
 descended almost to her heels. 
 
 The two young girls, standing side by 
 side, presented a picture of contrasted 
 youthful loveliness that would have filled 
 the soul of a great painter with delight. 
 
 Marguerite, Madame Simon's daughter, 
 appeared to the enraptured eyes of Lord 
 Carleon a creature wholly celestial — an 
 angel descended upon earth, and ready to 
 remount to her native skies. Marie, on 
 the contrary, represented one of the most 
 queenly types of feminine beauty. Between 
 them, the two young girls united all the 
 perfections. Marguerite's loveliness spoke 
 to the heart, Marie's to the sense ; and both 
 with irresistible power.
 
 58 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Lord Carleon w^as too much cliarmed 
 by the sight of these young girls to be 
 at first completely conscious of the effect 
 which their beauty was producing on his 
 mind; but the full consciousness followed 
 quickly. With a trembling hand he took 
 the cup handed to him by Marie, and drank 
 the contents to the last drop, without the 
 power to turn his gaze from this young 
 servant, whose grace was that of a queen, 
 and from her mistress, whose ethereal 
 beauty was that of an angel. 
 
 The doctor directed that, as his patient 
 required of all thmgs rest and sleep, he 
 should now be left alone; and the direc- 
 tion was immediately obeyed. 
 
 Left to himself, Lord Carleon closed his 
 eyes, and recalled every incident and charm 
 of the vision that had just passed from his 
 sight. 
 
 He had lived too fast, — his passions had 
 been stirred far too wildly and vaguely, — 
 before leavino; Ensrland to enter on the se-
 
 TWO LOVES. 59 
 
 eluded life he had been leading in Switzer- 
 land, for his heart to have become seared or 
 even hardened. The weariness that comes 
 upon a young man's spirit from satiety of 
 pleasure is like the enfeeblement of taste 
 that overtakes the indiscriminate drinker; 
 it is persistence only that produces lasting 
 depravity in either case. Fortunately the 
 fibre of Lord Carleon's mind was of a kind 
 to rebel speedily against the serf-like subju- 
 gation demanded of it by the limitations of 
 a life devoted to one object and self-doomed 
 to disappointment and desillusion. 
 
 It is doubtful whether the heart of a 
 young man given up to the sole pursuit of 
 pleasure is ever touched by the fire of real 
 love; but once so touched, it is thence- 
 forth safe from illusion. Between a true 
 passion and the empty emotions that may 
 for a time pass by its name, it will never 
 again be in doubt. Love then becomes a 
 saviour as well as an atonement. 
 
 Lord Carleon had never loved. The
 
 60 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 certainty of this became more and more 
 clear to him the more he thouo^ht of the 
 two lovely girls who had so lately stood by 
 his bedside. He questioned his heart again 
 and again, and the answer it returned was 
 strange, perplexing: he loved both Mar- 
 guerite and Marie !
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 A VAIN STRUGGLE. 
 
 The causes of Lord Carleon's withdrawal 
 from the fervid life in which he had too 
 heedlessly plunged on leaving Oxford have 
 been stated. It was neither in the spirit of 
 a reckless libertine nor of a soulless roue 
 that he retired to his isolation in the heart 
 of the Jura. He had feasted on pleasure 
 till the dainty fare had lost its savour for 
 him ; that was all. 
 
 He was young, and his heart yet far 
 from the reach of callousness — freely open, 
 indeed, to noble instincts and generous 
 sentiments. The double passion, therefore, 
 with which these two charming young girls 
 had inspired him, after the first dreamhke 
 whirl of dehghted surprise was past, filled
 
 62 TWO WOELDS OF EASHIOX. 
 
 liis mind with alarm aiid shame. Not for 
 a moment did he attempt to combat the 
 warning of his conscience, which told him 
 that it would be an act of infamy to repay 
 with base ingratitude the hospitality of this 
 pure and simple home, where he had been 
 received on the footing of a son and brother. 
 
 To struggle courageously against the 
 growing power of his new-born passion — 
 and, more than all, to depart as speedily as 
 possible — he resolved on, as the only means 
 of safety. And the resolution taken, he 
 would have at once carried it into execu- 
 tion; knowing that the evils he desired to 
 escape would but increase, and cost him 
 greater suffering to overcome them, the 
 longer he delayed. 
 
 Being alone, he determined to try his 
 strength, and for that purpose descended 
 from his bed; but he had scarcely raised 
 himself upon his feet before it was demon- 
 strated to him that, however strong his will 
 might be, his physical feebleness was ex-
 
 A VAIN STRUGGLE. 63 
 
 trcme. The pain in his chest, which he 
 had not felt for many hours, returned with 
 renewed intensity. He felt as if all his 
 limbs were broken; and he had barely 
 power to throw himself back u23on his bed. 
 Another moment and he would have fainted 
 on the floor. 
 
 Thus, as by a fatality, he was held 
 under the roof from which the voice of 
 honour imperiously called upon him to fly. 
 But, though compelled to remain, he pro- 
 mised to be upon his guard, so that neither 
 by look nor word should the secret of his 
 unfortunate passion escape him. 
 
 For some few days, during his return to 
 convalescence, he was completely successful 
 in retaining the absolute mastery over his 
 feelings ; but, as his strength returned, — 
 as his blood circulated in his veins more 
 and more with its accustomed energy, — the 
 struerorle became harder to sustain. 
 
 Sometimes, seated in an easy-chair by 
 the fireside, he found himself during long
 
 64 TWO WOKLDS or FASHION. 
 
 hours alone with Marguerite — the beautiful 
 girl wholly confiding, from being absolutely- 
 chaste of soul. Her hands at these times 
 were ever guided by some charitable 
 thought. Mostly they were employed in 
 making warm clothing for the children of 
 the poor. And while she worked she re- 
 counted to him strange legends and marvel- 
 lous histories of the country round about, 
 or sang to him, in her pure and harmonious 
 voice, some mountain ballad. 
 
 Then all resolves became futile. He 
 forgot the entire world — or saw nothing in 
 it but Marguerite. He contemplated with 
 ecstasy her angelic and timid beauty; his 
 ears were intoxicated with the melody of 
 her words and her songs ; and he felt a 
 force stronger than his own urging him to 
 throw himself at her feet, and to cry, in 
 spite of himself, 
 
 ' Marguerite! I love you!' 
 
 Still more dangerous were the occasions 
 which threw Marie and him together — she
 
 A VAIN STRUGGLE. Q5 
 
 as the servant of the house, in the perform- 
 ance of the services which his invahd con- 
 dition required. Sometimes he leant on her 
 arm in moving about his room ; and a sort 
 of electric commotion filled him, a sort of 
 voluptuous atmosphere exhaled from the 
 beautiful peasant and enveloped him. 
 
 But from these struo^o-les he came off vic- 
 torious — respecting Marie as he respected 
 Marguerite. 
 
 The day which he had fixed for his de- 
 parture at length arrived, and with it a light 
 char-a-bancs adapted to the mountain roads, 
 which he had sent for from the chateau de 
 Carleon. 
 
 The moment of parting was a sorrowful 
 one. Madame Simon had learned to feel 
 for her guest a deep and touching affection. 
 Marguerite was pale. Marie's bosom heaved 
 under her velvet bodice, and revealed her 
 strono; emotion. 
 
 Marguerite presented to him her fore- 
 head to kiss, as if he had been her brother. 
 
 VOL. I. i'
 
 66 TWO WORLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 He pressed his lips to her brow : it was cold 
 as marble. 
 
 •And me, monsieur,' said Marie softly, 
 with a familiarity in which there was no- 
 thincr strange in the bosom of this family, 
 where she was a friend rather than a ser- 
 vant — ' and me, monsieur ; will you not 
 kiss me too?' 
 
 As she spoke she presented her cheek. 
 
 Lord Carleon bent towards her, — his 
 limbs trembled, his sight left him. Instead 
 of touching her cheek, his lips met hers, 
 and a thrill of rapture shot through him. 
 
 Marie alone was aware of what was 
 passing within him • and at the end of a 
 few seconds he became calm, in appearance 
 at least. 
 
 He desired to leave with the young girl 
 some memento of his sojourn in the house 
 of her mistress; but he could not, and 
 would not, offer money to her. After a 
 moment's thought, he detached from the 
 trinkets appended to his watch-chain a small
 
 A VAIN STRUGGLE. 67 
 
 cross of plain gold, and slipped it into her 
 hands, whispering as he did so, 
 
 ' Keep this for love of me.' 
 
 Marie's beautiful face became crimson. 
 
 She turned aside and furtively covered 
 the cross with kisses. 
 
 The four descended to the garden, at 
 the outer gate of which stood the char-a- 
 bancs. Marguerite's paleness was redoubled, 
 and she tried in vain to conceal her tears. 
 Marie's white cheeks were flushed with 
 crimson patches, and she turned on the de- 
 parting guest a look both feverish and 
 strange. 
 
 Fidele, the great black dog, to whom 
 Lord Carleon had become a recoo:nised 
 friend, bounded round him, seeming to 
 express by his bark and caresses the regret 
 he felt at parting with him. 
 
 ' You will come and see us again, will 
 3^ou not?' said Madame Simon, tenderly. 
 
 ' Certainly,' replied Lord Carleon. 
 
 ^ But soon ?'
 
 68 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' Very soon.' 
 
 ' Will you really come back to us soon?' 
 stammered Marguerite, in a voice rendered 
 indistinct by tears. 
 
 ' I promise — indeed, I promise,' he 
 replied. 
 
 But though he made this promise, it 
 sprung as it were involuntarily from his 
 lips, for he had firmly determined not to 
 return ; and it seemed as if Marie divined 
 his hidden purpose, for she shook her head, 
 and the movement of her lips suggested the 
 words, 
 
 ' No, no, — he will not return.' 
 
 Who can tell by what mysterious power 
 she read his thoughts ? Whence came this 
 divination ? Only too soon was he able to 
 answer these questions. 
 
 The final moment of parting was come. 
 He passed out of the garden-gate, mounted 
 the rustic vehicle waiting for him, took the 
 reins in his hand, whipped the horses, and 
 was rapidly borne from the house where he
 
 A VAIN STRUGGLE. Gl) 
 
 had left his heart, and where he had vowed 
 to himself never to return. 
 
 In proportion as he increased the dist- 
 ance between himself and Madame Simon's 
 house his spirits fell; and by the time he 
 reached his own home a superhuman sad- 
 ness weighed him down. All moral energy 
 had deserted him ; he no longer attempted 
 to struggle against these fatal influences, 
 but allowed himself to be vanquished with- 
 out offering any farther resistance to the 
 invisible enemy to which he was subjected. 
 ' Fever declared itself, and for several 
 days the doctor who attended him doubted 
 the possibility of his recovery. Thanks to his 
 youth and the strength of his constitution, 
 however, the patient was saved from death. 
 
 A fortnight passed— a fortnight of agony 
 — in which, in his delirium, he saw inces- 
 santly the interwoven figures of Marguerite 
 and Marie, pale, tearful, and ever with be- 
 seeching gestures calling on him to return 
 to them.
 
 70 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 At the end of that time, instead of sleep- 
 ing the sleep of death, Lord Carleon woke 
 to convalescence. Little by little his health 
 returned ; but with health there came back 
 to him no peace of mind. He no longer 
 lived — he vegetated merely. 
 
 His chateau seemed to him sombre and 
 deserted ; the lonely and desolate existence 
 which he led there fed the melancholy which 
 possessed him. All that had hitherto given 
 him pleasure became odious ; his horses 
 lano^uished in their stables, his doo;s in their 
 kennels. 
 
 The tedious winter past, spring arrived 
 — that season of the year when JN^ature 
 renews its youth, when the sap circulat- 
 ing in the young shoots bursts into vigor- 
 ous growths, when the mild and per- 
 fumed breeze strays over the verdant 
 earth, when the song of the birds preludes 
 their happy pairing, when unknown flames 
 soften the hardest hearts, and jN^ature, 
 wdth all its voices, calls upon mankind to
 
 A VAIN STRUGGLE. 71 
 
 give themselves to the universal impulse of 
 love. 
 
 Lord Carleon needed no such command ; 
 he loved already, with only too much vehem- 
 ence. And now, when all Nature seemed 
 to conspire against the resolutions he had 
 imposed upon himself, they gave way, like 
 wax exposed to the heat of a furnace. He 
 felt himself dominated by an irresistable 
 fascination. 
 
 He felt that to struggle longer was vain ; 
 that he must submit to this supreme impul- 
 sion, or die ; and he had not courage to face 
 the dread alternative. 
 
 AVith an immense feeling of joy at his 
 heart, yet not unmixed with fear, he once 
 more approached Madame Simon's humble 
 dwelling. 
 
 The aspect of the place was entirely 
 changed since the day when, feeble and suf- 
 ferino;, he had left it to return to his own 
 home. Sombre and almost terrible as the 
 landscape then appeared, it had now put on
 
 72 TWO WORLDS OF TASHION. 
 
 a look of tender cheerfulness. Instead of 
 the broad carpet of snow, out of which the 
 fir-trees with their black-green fohage rose 
 in dismal shapes, emerald-hued grass covered 
 the ground, extending, like a bed of moss, 
 up to the Dent du Chien, which had lost its 
 stamp of savage horror, and stood out but 
 as a picturesque point in the landscape. 
 
 But little heed was given to these objects 
 by Lord Carleon, however. It was neither 
 on the rocks, nor on the forests, nor on the 
 distant views, that his devouring gaze was 
 fixed as he drew near the dwelling of 
 Madame Simon. 
 
 He had his gun upon his shoulder, and 
 he was accompanied by two dogs. These 
 animals reached the garden-gate a minute 
 or two before their master, and exchanged 
 a rapid and angry dialogue of yelps and 
 growls; Fidele, from the interior of the gar- 
 den, seeming disposed to receive them as 
 enemies. 
 
 As soon as Lord Carleon came in sight
 
 A VAIN STRUGGLE. 73 
 
 the scene changed. Fidele, with that m- 
 stinct of his race which on occasion almost 
 equals human intelligence, instantly recog- 
 nised him as the guest of his mistresses, and 
 his angry yells were at once turned into cries 
 of affectionate welcome. 
 
 Lord Carleon opened the gate, and the 
 delighted Fidele literally leaj^ed at his neck, 
 licked his face and hands, and covered him 
 with evidences of his srladness at seeins: him 
 again. 
 
 No one was in the garden. In the hall 
 Lord Carleon found himself face to face with 
 Marie. She recognised him, and uttered a 
 low cry, in her surprise letting fall a jug of 
 milk she was carrying. 
 
 Her face turned pale, she reeled, and 
 would have fallen but that Lord Carleon 
 sprang forward and caught her in his arms. 
 Scarcely conscious of what he was doing, he 
 pressed her to his bosom with passionate 
 warmth. 
 
 The young girl gently disengaged herself
 
 74 TWO WORLDS OF EASPIIOX. 
 
 from his caress, and fixed her eyes upon his 
 with an undefinable expression. 
 
 'Yon, monsieur! — you here?' she mur- 
 mured. 
 
 ' Yes, my dear Marie — I myself!' he re- 
 plied. 
 
 ' Is it possible ?' 
 
 ' Quite. Why are you so astonished?' 
 
 * I thought — I believed — you would 
 never return.' 
 
 ' But did I not promise ?' 
 
 'It's true, you did,' said Marie, sadly 
 shaking her head. 
 
 'Well, then?' 
 
 Marie made no reply. A cloud of sad- 
 ness passed over her brow. Her eyes were 
 half veiled by their long downcast lashes as 
 she said : 
 
 ' How glad the ladies will be to see you !' 
 
 The accent with which she pronounced 
 these words struck Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' And you, Marie — are you not also glad ?' 
 he asked.
 
 A VAIN STRUGGLE. 75- 
 
 ^ I, monsieur!' she replied, with a slight 
 tone of bitterness. ' 0, / am nobody !' 
 
 Few as these words were, they conveyed, 
 to his mind a complete revelation. They 
 told him that he was loved by Marie ; and 
 he drew from them the almost assured belief 
 that, during his long absence, the two young 
 girls had talked together concerning him;, 
 that Marie had discovered in the innocent 
 heart of Marguerite a love like her own; 
 and that she had said humbly to herself that, 
 in such a rivalry, she, a poor servant, must 
 be vanquished. 
 
 As this conclusion presented itself to his 
 mind. Lord Carleon felt himself thrilled by 
 a sense of wild exultation. To be loved by 
 both Marguerite and Marie was almost too 
 great a happiness. It was incredible ! Yet 
 he believed it fully. 
 
 The soft voice of Marie broke upon the 
 entrancement of this ecstatic vision. 
 
 ' Will you not go up to the sitting-room^ 
 monsieur?' she said.
 
 76 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 He started, as if awakened from a dream. 
 
 ' Sitting-room !' lie repeated vaguely. 
 
 ' Unless you would prefer to wait in the 
 garden.' 
 
 ' Are the ladies not at home ?' 
 
 ' No, they are gone out.' 
 
 'For long?' 
 
 ' I do not expect them back yet for an 
 hour. Mademoiselle Marguerite and her 
 mother have gone to the church of Yalle- 
 boy, half a league from here.' 
 
 ' I will wait for their return in the house, 
 then/ he replied. 
 
 ' You know the way, monsieur,' said 
 Marie, moving aside to allow him to pass 
 to the stairs. 
 
 ' Will you not come with me ?' 
 
 Marie's voice trembled as she replied, 
 
 'If you wish it, monsieur.'
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 UNDER THE SPELL. 
 
 Lord Carleon slowly ascended the stairs, 
 holding by the hand-rail for support; for 
 he felt himself overtaken by a feebleness as 
 complete as that which had been upon him 
 when he entered this house for the first 
 time. Marie followed him. 
 
 The sitting-room was the chamber into 
 which, months before, he had been carried 
 almost dead. It served for the bed-room of 
 the guests whom chance, at rare intervals, 
 brought to the house of Madame Simon. 
 
 Nothing was changed in the furniture 
 of this room, yet its aspect was no longer 
 the same as in the days of the preceding 
 winter. Through the wide-open mndows 
 a flood of sunlight poured in, making every
 
 78 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 object splendid in the golden-liued atmo- 
 sphere. Two vases, filled wdth fresh flowers 
 of rich colours stood on the mantelpiece. 
 The birds sang gaily without, and the soft 
 perfumes of spring fell, as if caressingly, 
 upon the senses. All combined to form a 
 picture at once poetical and delightful, and, 
 as Lord Carleon thought, never to be for- 
 gotten. 
 
 Placing his gun in a corner of the room, 
 and disembarrassmg himself of his game- 
 bag, he seated himself by the window. His 
 dogs remained in the garden, where they 
 w^ere given up to noisy gambols in company 
 with Fidele. From the place where he was 
 seated he could see the garden-gate and the 
 path along which Madame Simon and Mar- 
 guerite would return. 
 
 Over the entire length of this path his 
 eye^ were turned inquiringly. 
 
 Marie followed the direction of this 
 survey, and instantly comprehended its
 
 UNDER THE SPELL. 79 
 
 ' I told you, monsieur,' she said, in a 
 low and timid voice, ' they will not be back 
 this hour.' 
 
 Lord Carleon raised his eyes to her face. 
 The young girl was standing before him in 
 an attitude of charming embarrassment and 
 indecision. 
 
 Observing his look turned upon her, 
 Marie dropped her eyes and appeared to 
 regard with extreme attention the point of 
 her little foot, of which assuredly she saw 
 nothing. She played unconsciously with 
 one of the plaits of her long black hair, 
 which she wound about her fingers. 
 
 For several seconds Lord Carleon con- 
 templated her with silent admiration. 
 
 Since his departure a complete trans- 
 formation had been effected in her beauty. 
 Into her wonderfully-beautiful face a new 
 expression had come, the nature of which 
 he did not as yet comprehend — in some 
 sort, an idealisation. A pale and exquisite 
 transparency had replaced the more lively
 
 80 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 hue of her cheeks. A tender tinge of bkie 
 about her eyehds seemed to disclose the 
 ravages of some hidden emotion — of some 
 thought that had often chased sleep from 
 her pillow. 
 
 Marie felt Lord Carleon's gaze pene- 
 trate to her heart, and a rosy tint, quickly 
 deepening into scarlet, covered her neck, 
 then her cheeks, and rose by degrees to the 
 summit of her fair forehead. 
 
 Lord Carleon would willingly have re- 
 lieved her from the modest embarrassment 
 which he saw was becoming painful; but 
 the only means that occurred to him at 
 the moment were far from answering the 
 purpose he had in view. 
 
 He noticed that round her neck she 
 wore a narrow velvet ribbon, the end of 
 which was concealed beneath her bodice. 
 
 ' Marie, I see you have taken to wear a 
 ribbon round your neck,' he said, in the 
 most oiFhand tone he could assume, as if 
 the remark were the most insignificant in 
 
 the ^^^^'^^-
 
 UNDER THE SrELL. 81 
 
 Marie raised her eyes quickly, and car- 
 ried her hand to the ribbon. 
 
 ' This ribbon?' she inquired, blushing a 
 ■deeper scarlet. 
 
 ' Yes,' he replied. 
 
 The young girl made no answer, but 
 her embarrassment appeared to be re- 
 doubled. 
 
 A feeling of jealousy, vague, but not to 
 be mistaken, flashed upon Lord Carleon's 
 mind. 
 
 ' Will you not tell me what that ribbon 
 is, and what you wear attached to it?' he 
 demanded. 
 
 Perhaps the suspicion which had struck 
 upon his heart betrayed itself in the tone of 
 his voice ; in any case, Marie answered with 
 eager alacrity, as if he had given an im- 
 perious order, 
 
 ' I will, I will, monsieur.' 
 
 At the same moment she drew from its 
 soft sanctuary the concealed end of the 
 ribbon, on which hung a small gold cross— 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 the same which he had given to her at the 
 moment of his departure from Madame 
 Simon's house. 
 
 A feeling of intense delight filled his 
 entire being and shone in his looks. Marie 
 saw this joy and partook of it ; her face be- 
 came radiant and her eyes sparkled like 
 azure diamonds. 
 
 ' You told me,' she murmured, ' to keep 
 it — in memory of you.' 
 
 ' Not in memory only — but for love of 
 me.' 
 
 ' I have kept it, as you see.' 
 
 ' You have thought of me sometimes^ 
 then ?' 
 
 ' You are never out of my mind.' 
 
 These words escaped from the young 
 girl's heart before she had time to bar 
 their passage from her lips. But they were 
 no sooner uttered than she was aware of 
 all they had betrayed, and her confusion was 
 redoubled. 
 
 For more than a minute neither spoke
 
 UNDER THE SPELL. 83 
 
 again. But at length the silence into which 
 they had fallen, and which was becoming 
 painful to both, was broken. 
 
 The sound of a young girl's fresh voice 
 was heard, singing sweetly a rustic ditty. 
 
 Lord Carleon recognised the voice with- 
 out even looking in the direction whence 
 it came. His look turned involuntarily to 
 Marie. 
 
 An expression of agony was in the 
 girl's face,, which had become deadly pale. 
 She too had recognised the approaching 
 voice, and a shudder, such as may pass 
 through the frame of a young lioness on 
 seeinof a rival draw near, convulsed her 
 features. 
 
 The voice came nearer, and the garden- 
 gate was opened. Then were heard the 
 sounds of Fidele's joyous caresses, mixed 
 with the barking of Lord Carleon's dogs. 
 
 'Mamma, mamma!' cried Marguerite, 
 for hers was the voice of the singer, ' some 
 one has come.'
 
 84 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 'Some one! — who can it be?' said 
 Madame Simon. Tlien she called, 'Marie, 
 Marie !' 
 
 The young girl, who had appeared as if 
 she were changed into a statue, started at 
 the call of her mistress. But before hurry- 
 ing to obey the summons, she cried to Lord 
 Carleon, in a low voice and in a distressed 
 and suppliant tone, 
 
 'Do not say that you have seen me, 
 monsieur. Say nothing about me.' 
 She fled from the room. 
 A light and rapid step sounded upon 
 the stairs. A moment later and Marguerite 
 appeared at the door left open by Marie. 
 
 As she stood in the doorway, a ray of 
 sunlight entirely surrounded her, clothing 
 her, as it were, in a mantle of gold. Her 
 supple form and angelic visage, around 
 which her brightly-lit blonde hair formed 
 an aureole, were luminously relieved against 
 the shadow of the passage behind her. She 
 looked like the youthful Goddess of Spring
 
 UNDER THE SPELL. 85 
 
 standing suddenly revealed to Lord Car- 
 leon's enraptured gaze. 
 
 She had not met Marie, and did not yet 
 know what visitor was in the sitting-room. 
 At sight of him joy and astonishment were at 
 once reflected on her soft and pure features. 
 ' Monsieur Reginald !' she cried. And 
 she added not a word after pronouncing 
 this name, Avhich had plainly sprung from 
 her heart to her lips. 
 
 Lord Carle on, on his side, remained 
 speechless, trembling, and unable to take a 
 single step forward to meet her. 
 
 Madame Simon, however, had followed 
 her daughter, though at a slower pace, and 
 now entered the room. On seeing Lord 
 Carleon, an exclamation of pleasure es- 
 caped from her lips, and putting Margue- 
 rite gently aside, she welcomed him with 
 truly maternal tenderness. 
 
 ' You have not forgotten us, then ?' she 
 said. ' I thought you had done so, and 
 said it was wrong of you ; but now I see
 
 86 TWO WORLDS OF FxVSHION. 
 
 liow unjust I have been towards you, and 
 be^ your forgiveness.' 
 
 Lord Carleon made the best reply he 
 could, and Madame Simon seated herself 
 beside him, while Marguerite, to keep her- 
 self in countenance, pretended to rearrange 
 the flowers on the mantelpiece. 
 
 ' Why have you never let us hear from 
 you ?' inquired Madame Simon. ' We have 
 often thought of you, and spoken of you, 
 Marguerite and I; and sometimes we have 
 felt hurt at your apparent indifference.' 
 
 ' You have only been too good to me,' 
 murmured Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' We are both very fond of you ; and 
 sometimes it almost seems to me that you 
 are the elder brother of my dear Mar- 
 guerite.' 
 
 Lord Carleon took Madame Simon's 
 hand and carried it to his lips with 
 emotion. 
 
 ' What have you been doing since you 
 left us?' she asked.
 
 UNDER THE SPELL. 87 
 
 ^ I have been like to die/ he replied. 
 
 ' To die!' repeated Madame Simon, in a 
 tone of bewilderment. 
 
 ' Shortly after my return home I fell ill, 
 and so seriously, that the doctors thought 
 my case past hope.' 
 
 ' And who tended you?' 
 
 ^ My servants.' 
 
 ^And you had neither relative nor de- 
 voted friend by you?' 
 
 'No one.' 
 
 ' Poor fellow !' cried Madame Simon, 
 with touching compassion. ' But you ought 
 to have sent me word, and I would have 
 hastened to you. You know,' she added 
 with a sweet smile, 'that I am a little bit of 
 a nurse, and a little bit of a Sister of Cha- 
 rity besides. You are cured now, however, 
 heaven be thanked, and there is nothing 
 more to wish for, for you are quite well, 
 are you not?' 
 
 ' As you may see — I have come from 
 my chateau on foot.'
 
 88 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' Shooting by the way ?' 
 
 ' Yes,— a httle.' 
 
 ' You remain still a sportsman, then?' 
 
 ' More devotedly than ever.' 
 
 ' 0, these young men !' cried Madame 
 Simon, holding up a finger in friendly 
 reproof ; ' no experience, however dread- 
 ful, checks their daring ardour! I'll be 
 bound you would not hesitate to go again 
 to the Fosse aux Loups to wait for bears?' 
 
 'Why not?' 
 
 ' At the risk of a second catastrophe ?' 
 
 'Is it not to the first that I owe the 
 happiness of knowing you?' 
 
 ' A very pretty speech ; — I hope it is as 
 sincere as it is pretty.' 
 
 ' Do you doubt its sincerity?' 
 
 ' No ; for why should you not share the 
 afi'ection you have inspired?' 
 
 ' Ah ! my dear Madame Simon, you do 
 me justice.' 
 
 ' And how long are you going to stay 
 with us?'
 
 UNDER THE SPELL. 8r) 
 
 Lord Carleon was greatly embarrassed 
 by this natural and apparently simple 
 question. 
 
 ' For the rest of the day,' he replied, 
 hesitatingly ; ' till the evening.' 
 
 ' Is it possible you are serious ? Where 
 are you going to sleep ?' demanded Madame 
 Simon in a tone of surprise. 
 
 'With Jean Mcod the woodman,' he 
 replied. 
 
 Madame Simon's face changed in ex- 
 pression. 
 
 'What have we done,' she cried, m a 
 tone very different from that in which she 
 ordinarily spoke, 'that you should prefer 
 even to the hospitality of my humble roof 
 that of Jean Nicod?' 
 
 ' 0, you cannot think that it is matter of 
 preference, dear Madame Simon,' cried Lord 
 Carleon. ' I fear to encroach too mach upon 
 your kindness — ' 
 
 ' Ah !' she cried in a tone of relief, the 
 smile returning once more to her handsome
 
 DO TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 face ; ' say no more — it is understood that 
 you remain with us !' 
 
 ' Since it is your wish.' 
 
 ' You will give us all to-morrow ?' 
 
 ' So be it.' 
 
 ' And all the rest of the week?' 
 
 ' I really fear — ' 
 
 ' Some matter of importance recalls you 
 liome ?' 
 
 ' Absolutely nothing.' 
 
 ' Then say Yes, and I'll forgive you for 
 having thought of leaving us for the society 
 of Jean Nicod the woodman.' 
 
 Lord Carleon desired nothing better 
 than to remain. To do so was indeed the 
 dearest of his wishes. He gave his promise 
 therefore. 
 
 ' And now/ continued Madame Simon, 
 ' l^ray consider yourself here as perfectly at 
 liberty as in your own home. If you like 
 to go out shooting all day, do not for a 
 moment hesitate to foUow the bent of your 
 inclination; by which means — be it said in
 
 UNDER THE SPELL. 91 
 
 ii wIiispcT — we may come in for the plea- 
 sure of eating some of the game you kill.' 
 
 For a few moments nothing more was 
 said; but at leno-th Madame Simon con- 
 tinned, with a mysterious smile upon her 
 lips : 
 
 ' A day or tAvo hence — to-morrow per- 
 il aps — my dear Monsieur Eeginald, I shall 
 have something to tell you.' 
 
 ' Something?' 
 
 ' A great secret — a family secret.' 
 
 ' You awake in me the warmest possible 
 interest, and " to-morrow " is an age off. 
 Can you not tell it me to-day?' inquired 
 Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' Xo, not to-day ; but to-morrow^ cer- 
 tainly,' replied Madame Simon. 
 
 Lord Carleon's eyes turned mechanicall}^ 
 towards Marguerite. Her look was fixed 
 upon his face, and she was white as a corpse. 
 In vain he tried to divine the cause of her 
 manifest emotion, w^hich, however, was un- 
 remarked by her mother.
 
 92 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 'You know this room? continued Ma- 
 dame Simon ; ' it shall be yours again. And 
 now we will leave you to rest for a while. — 
 Come, Marguerite.' 
 
 ' Are you going to leave me?' said Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 ' For the very necessary purpose of see- 
 ing to our larder. Do you think we con- 
 template letting you die of hunger ?' replied 
 Madame Simon, laughing. 
 
 He went to his game-bag, and drew 
 from its depths a hare and a brace of part- 
 ridges, which he had shot on the way that 
 morning. 
 
 'So, so,^ cried she, laughing; 'it's plain 
 you doubted the resources of our humble 
 kitchen, and therefore provided for yourself 
 a splendid banquet. You were quite right, 
 and will dine all the better for your fore- 
 
 sight.' 
 
 Madame Simon left the room, and Mar- 
 rite followed her. 
 At the moment of quitting the chamber,
 
 UNDER THE SPELL. 93 
 
 the young girl turned upon Lord Carleon a 
 last look. She was sadder and paler than 
 she had appeared an mstant before, and the 
 expression in her eyes was disconsolate and 
 almost suppliant. 
 
 What was this apparent sorrowfulness, 
 this unspoken prayei ? Lord Carleon in 
 vain repeated to himself these questions.
 
 CHAPTER yi. 
 
 THE BETEOTHED. 
 
 The day passed slowly. The dinner was^ 
 didl. Madame Simon was the only one of 
 the party whose good spirits were not 
 forced. Marguerite scarcely spoke at all ; 
 and when she did so, it was evident that 
 her mind was preoccupied. Marie had been 
 weeping, as her red and swollen eyes too^ 
 clearly attested. 
 
 Lord Carleon felt downcast and embar- 
 rassed, and was hardly able to summon suffi- 
 cient presence of mind to reply to liladame 
 Simon when she addressed him. 
 
 It was impossible for this good womnn 
 not to observe that something was the mat- 
 ter with her guest ; but she believed he 
 might still be under the depressing influence
 
 THE BETROTHED. 95- 
 
 of the illness through which he had lately 
 passed, and pitied him without being in the 
 least astonished. 
 
 Almost as soon as the dinner was ended 
 he excused himself, on the ground of feeling 
 fatigued by his long morning's walk, for re- 
 tiring to his room. 
 
 ' By all means, my dear Monsieur Regi- 
 nald,' said Madame Simon. ' I can see that 
 you are still weak; to-morrow, after you 
 have rested, you will be stronger.' 
 
 ' I hope so,' replied Lord Carleon ; ' for 
 to-day I am but a very dull and ungracious 
 guest.' 
 
 But little sleep visited his eyes that 
 night. A fever was in his blood; a vision 
 of the two young girls, sleeping under the 
 same roof with him, was constantly before 
 him, making repose impossible. 
 
 The next morning he rose early, hoping 
 to find calming influences in the fresh cool 
 air of the mountains. As a means of turn- 
 ing his thoughts into an entirely different
 
 96 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 channel, he sought the scene of poor Domi- 
 nique's terrible death. 
 
 Arrived at the spot, he scarcely recog- 
 nised it, so utterly was its aspect changed. 
 The piled-up white blocks of the Dent du 
 Chien were partly hidden under a coating 
 of o;reen mosses and lichens. The OTanite 
 walls of the Fosse aux Loups were almost 
 covered with a smiling vegetation. The 
 abyss itself resembled a gigantic basket of 
 verdure. From every bush came the song 
 of a bird, from every green turf rose the 
 voice of an insect ; bees were taking their 
 busy flight through the flower-scented air ; 
 and every object and every sound spoke of 
 Nature's untainted freshness, of life and the 
 joy of mere existence. 
 
 Lord Carleon endeavoured to find the 
 spot where the unfortunate Dominique had 
 trusted himself to the frail and treacherous 
 support of the shattered pine-tree, a portion 
 of the roots of which was still visible, jutting 
 from a crevice in the wall of rock. Laying
 
 THE BETROTHED. 97 
 
 himself flat upon the ground, he peered into 
 the giddy depths, at the bottom of which a 
 heap of rugged blocks marked the place 
 where the poor old hunter had fallen. 
 
 Several venturesome men had descended 
 with ropes, and recovered the old man's re- 
 mains, to which christian burial had been 
 given. The recollections which these events 
 awoke in his mind served to divert him, to 
 some extent at least, from the thoughts that 
 were ao-itatino; his heart. 
 
 When he regained Madame Simon's 
 house, he was still greatly depressed in spi- 
 rit. He found the ladies waiting breakfast 
 for him. 
 
 He was little less pale than Marguerite. 
 As to Marie, her cheeks were more highly 
 coloured than usual. The flush of fever 
 gave a new and almost terrible splendour to 
 her face. At times she avoided Lord Car- 
 leon's looks ; at other times, on the contrary, 
 she seemed to seek them; and when she did 
 so, it almost appeared as if she Avere triumph- 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ing in the momently-increasing dejection 
 visible in Marguerite's looks and manner. 
 
 Breakfast was finished, and the party 
 about to leave the dining-room, when a loud 
 barking of the dogs in the garden was heard. 
 
 ' A visitor,' remarked Madame Simon. 
 
 Upon Marguerite's features an expres- 
 sion of mental agony was painted, ■■ as the 
 person referred to entered the room. 
 
 He appeared to be about five- or six- 
 and-twenty. In height he was two or three 
 inches taller than Lord Carleon; and his 
 well-knit frame indicated extreme activity 
 and extraordinary strength. His features 
 were irregular, but bore the stamp of a 
 masculine and vigorous beauty, of which 
 daring resolution was the dominant expres- 
 sion. A thick growth of black hair sur- 
 mounted his wide and thoughtful forehead 
 and weather-bronzed face. 
 
 His costume was in accordance with his 
 half-savage aspect. He wore high gaiters 
 of soft leather, and a sort of jacket of a stout
 
 THE BETROTHED. 99 
 
 ribbed material, known as coutil, drawn-in 
 nt the waist by a belt of undressed hide. On 
 entering the room, he carelessly threw his 
 hunting- cap of green cloth upon a chair. 
 
 Madame Simon held out her hand to 
 him, and he raised it to his lips with a kind 
 of rough gallantry, not by any means de- 
 void of grace. He then shook hands with 
 Marguerite, who appeared hardly able to 
 sustain herself, and turned on Lord Carleon 
 XI look in which he read mistrust and dis- 
 tress. 
 
 Lord Carleon returned the young man's 
 salutation with almost impertinent haut- 
 eur; but the incident escaped the notice of 
 Madame Simon and possibly of her visi- 
 tor. 
 
 ' My dear Paul,' she said in an affection- 
 ate tone, 'this gentleman is Monsieur de 
 Carleon, of whom you have so often heard 
 us speak.' Then turning to Lord Carleon, 
 she added, ' My dear Monsieur Reginald, 
 allow me to introduce to you one of our
 
 100 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 neighbours, Paul Duprat. You have so 
 much m common — you are both young, 
 both sportsmen, both good-hearted and in- 
 telligent — I hope you will become excellent 
 friends.' 
 
 Lord Carleon again bowed ; this time 
 with such marked reserve as almost to 
 startle Madame Simon. 
 
 ' Good heavens ! j)ray let me see you 
 shake hands!' she cried. ^ You are terribly 
 ceremonious !' 
 
 Paul Duprat held out his hand, and Lord 
 Carleon took it ; but there was no cordiality 
 in the act on either part. Each of the young 
 men in fact divined that in the other he had 
 an adversary, an enemy. However, each 
 was as yet sufficiently master of himself to 
 keep all expression of hostility from his 
 looks. 
 
 ' You intend to spend the whole of the 
 day with us, Paul, I hope?' said Madame 
 Simon. 
 
 ' I had intended to do so,' he replied ; 
 'but—'
 
 THE BETROTHED. 101 
 
 ' But what ?' demanded Madame Simon, 
 in a tone of surprise. 
 
 ' You have a visitor ; and I fear I may 
 be in the way.' 
 
 ' In other words, a new acquaintance 
 alarms you. That's quite like you, you 
 wild mountaineer ! But pray try and un- 
 derstand that you couldn't possibly have 
 come at a more desirable moment ; and that 
 if you had not come, I should have written 
 to-day to invite you.' 
 
 Paul Duprat made no answer. 
 
 The little party went out into the gar- 
 den, and seated themselves in a rustic 
 bower, overgrown with honeysuckle and 
 eglantine, that filled the air with their deli- 
 cious fragrance. Madame Simon and Mar- 
 guerite took their needlework with them; 
 and all, more or less, fell into talk. 
 
 It would have been impossible for Lord 
 Carleon, without unpardonable bad taste, 
 to refrain from speaking with Paul Duprat. 
 This young man greatly displeased him, it
 
 102 TWO WORLDS OF rASHION. 
 
 is true ; but he had done nothing actually 
 offensive, and it would have been difficult for 
 Lord Carleon to explain even to himself the 
 foundation of the antipathy he felt for him. 
 
 The conversation therefore became gene- 
 ral. The perils to which sportsmen are 
 often exposed were spoken of, and Madame 
 Simon made Lord Carleon relate the cir- 
 cumstances of his tragic expedition to the 
 Fosse aux Loups. 
 
 On his side, Paul Duprat recounted 
 several wild adventures, to his own share in 
 which Lord Carleon did not fail to observe 
 he modestly sank all prominent reference. 
 But in spite of this modest reticence, it was 
 easy to see that Paul Duprat had on many 
 occasions o-iven nroof of hio;h courao^e and 
 wonderful address. 
 
 Madame Simon warmly applauded the 
 young hunter, and pressed him with ques- 
 tions, evidently with the intention of placing 
 him before Lord Carleon in the most favour- 
 able liofht.
 
 TPIE BETROTHED. 103 
 
 During tliese recitals Lord Carleon 
 watched jMaro^uerite. She was not listenins^ 
 to anything that was being said ; and her 
 nndisgnised indifference filled his heart 
 with joy. Paul Duprat, on the contrary, 
 appeared to be painfully affected from the 
 same cause. Xow and then Madame Si- 
 mon slightly knit her brows, as her eyes 
 rested upon her daughter ; but these clouds 
 quickly passed away. 
 
 Afternoon arrived. Marguerite and her 
 mother returned to the house to see to the 
 preparations for dinner. Lord Carleon and 
 Paul Duprat were thus left together. 
 
 The masks they had been wearing in- 
 stantly fell from their faces ; it was useless 
 to keep them on any longer, and from the 
 moment of the ladies' departure, not another 
 word was spoken. Lord Carleon plucked 
 a few blossoms of honeysuckle and raised 
 them to his nose, for the mere purpose of 
 doing something that might serve to keep 
 him in countenance ; while Paul Duprat
 
 104 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 drew from his pocket a short pipe, and fell 
 to smoking with a grave intensity worthy 
 of a Flemish beer-drinker. In this way they 
 passed the time till dinner was announced 
 as ready. 
 
 Not one of the party derived any plea- 
 sure from the meal. What conversation 
 there was, was forced and spasmodic, con- 
 sisting of little more than replies to obser- 
 vations addressed by Madame Simon to 
 Lord Carleon or Paul Duprat. Marguerite 
 hardly once broke silence. The two men, 
 as if by tacit agreement, neither spoke to 
 nor looked at one another. Marie, who 
 waited at table, was pale, and moved about 
 the room nervously, as if under the influ- 
 ence of terror. 
 
 At length the day — which had seemed 
 interminable to more than Lord Carleon — 
 was drawing to its close. Night was 
 slowly approaching, and Paul Duprat took 
 his leave of the ladies. 
 
 In obedience to the request of Madame
 
 THE BETROTHED. 105 
 
 Simon, the two men once more took each 
 other's hands ; but the grasp of each was 
 even less friendly than that of the morning 
 had been. 
 
 Paul Duprat departed along a road 
 leading to the mountains; and every step 
 which increased his distance from the house 
 seemed to lift a portion of a heavy burthen 
 from Lord Carleon's heart. 
 
 As soon as the young mountaineer was 
 out of sight, Madame Simon motioned Mar- 
 guerite to return to the house, and then, 
 taking Lord Carleon's arm, led him back to 
 the arbour in which a great part of the day 
 had been spent. 
 
 ' Monsieur Reginald,' she said, as soon 
 as they were seated, ' we may consider you 
 our friend, may we not?' 
 
 ' Do you doubt it?' he asked. 
 
 ' Xo,' she replied; ' and as a proof, I am 
 o-oino' to shoAV vou how much confidence I 
 place in you. I told you yesterday I should 
 confide a secret — a family secret — to you. But
 
 lOG TWO WORLDS OF FASIIIOX. 
 
 first promise to answer me with perfect frank- 
 ness — to speak to me exactly as you think/ 
 
 Lord Carleon felt extremely uneasy 
 under the influence of this exordium, and 
 his heart began to beat heavily. He gave 
 the ]3romise demanded, however. 
 
 ' I have introduced to you Monsieur 
 Paul Duprat,' continued Madame Simon;. 
 ' you have talked together, you have passed 
 two hours alone with him, and have had 
 time, if not to form a complete judgment, 
 at least an opinion, as to his person and 
 character. Tell me what you think of him.^ 
 
 So completely unexpected was this in- 
 terrogation, thatj for a moment. Lord Car- 
 leon was dumbfounded by it. Eecovering 
 his self-control as quickly as he could, how- 
 ever, before answering, he asked : 
 
 ' Why have you put this question to 
 me, my dear Madame Simon?' 
 
 'I will tell you why presently; first 
 answer me, and above all frankly, as you 
 have promised.'
 
 THE BETROTHED. 107 
 
 ' You Avish it ?' 
 
 ^ I beg it.' 
 
 'I obey, then/ replied Lord Carleon, 
 ' Monsieur Duprat utterly displeases me.' 
 
 ^Displeases you utterly!' repeated Ma- 
 dame Simon in astonishment. ' Why ?' 
 
 ' Indeed I cannot explain why. Only,, 
 the moment I set eyes upon him, I felt to- 
 wards him a sudden antipathy, which our 
 slio'ht intercourse has not in the least desfree 
 tended to diminish.' 
 
 ' That is strange !' cried Madame Simon. 
 
 ' Xot stranger than many innate sym- 
 pathies, which are without serious motive, 
 but against which one often cannot defend 
 oneself.' 
 
 'Yet Paul Duprat is a young man of 
 agreeable appearance, — in fact, he may pass 
 as decidedly good-looking.' 
 
 'No doubt.' 
 
 ' Frank and honest ?' 
 
 ' I am quite sure of that.' 
 
 ' Highly courageous ?'
 
 108 TWO WORLDS or FASHION. 
 
 ' Of that I have not the least doubt.' 
 
 ' Has he done anythmg which without 
 his wish, or perhaps without his knowledge, 
 has offended you?' 
 
 ' Nothing whatever.' 
 
 ' But, my dear Monsieur Reginald, with- 
 out some reason, good or bad, small or 
 great, how can you have come to dislike 
 him so?' 
 
 ' My dislike is without reason, no doubt, 
 but it is none the less absolute.' 
 
 'I cannot tell you how much what 
 you say afflicts me,' murmured Madame 
 Simon. 
 
 'But, my dear madame,' cried Lord 
 Carleon, ' what can it possibly matter to you 
 whether I like or dislike this young man, 
 whom I have but casually seen, and whom 
 I may perhaps never meet again?' 
 
 ' This young man,' answered Madame 
 Simon in a low grave tone, ' will shortly 
 become my son.' 
 
 ' Your son !' repeated Lord Carleon,
 
 THE BETROTHED. 109 
 
 trembling violently as he realised the sense 
 of her Avords. 
 
 'He is betrothed to Marguerite/ 
 
 Lord Carleon reeled in his chair as if he 
 had been struck by a bullet. Fortunately 
 it was nearly dark, and Madame Simon was 
 not able to remark the paleness and agita- 
 tion of his features. It was some few se- 
 conds before he could recover himself, and 
 his lips involuntarily re-formed the words 
 which had struck him to the heart — 
 
 'Betrothed to Marguerite?' 
 
 ' Yes,' replied Madame Simon ; ' the 
 marriage will take place in about four 
 months from this time, and I would have 
 given much to have had my son-in-law your 
 friend.' 
 
 'And Marguerite?' he demanded in 
 husky and almost indistinct tones; 'does 
 she love him?' 
 
 Through the increasing darkness he 
 could see that Madame Simon shook her 
 head sadly.
 
 110 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' Does your daughter love him ?' he re- 
 peated, in tones that snatched something of 
 .assurance even from doubt. 
 
 ' No,' replied Madame Simon quietly. 
 
 The word sent a thrill of joy through 
 Lord Carleon's heart. 
 
 'Xo, she does not love him/ repeated 
 Madame Simon ; ' but she esteems him and 
 feels for him a strong friendship, I am sure.' 
 
 ' But why then do you give her to him ? 
 
 ' Because, though she does not love him 
 now, with such regard as she feels for him, 
 love may come after marriage; it is often 
 the more solid for coming a little late.' 
 
 It did not for an instant occur to good 
 Madame Simon, that, in speaking thus, she 
 was saying anything that could touch the 
 heart of her guest and friend. The idea 
 that her daughter — the fortuneless daughter 
 of a poor lieutenant of gendarmerie — might 
 cast her eyes on a man so rich as Monsieur 
 de Carleon, as she called him (for Lord Car- 
 leon had never communicated to her more
 
 THE BETROTHED. Ill 
 
 than the fact of his being the owner of the 
 chatean de Carleon), or that he could ever 
 think of such an unequal alliance, had never 
 presented itself to her mind. 
 
 On receiving this assurance, that ]Mar- 
 guerite felt for Paul Duprat nothing more 
 than esteem and friendship. Lord Carleon's 
 spirits were relieved of a great part of their 
 oppression. 
 
 ' Mv dear Madame Simon,' he ventured 
 to say, ' you have honoured me with your 
 confidence, and claimed that I should speak 
 frankly to you; it appeared to me, then, 
 that your daughter was very downcast to- 
 day.' 
 
 ' You remarked it ?' 
 
 ' And you too, did you not ?' 
 
 ' Yes, but it does not make me at all 
 uneasy. It is a mere young girl's caprice — 
 a cloud that comes and goes without her 
 knowing why or wherefore. Yesterday, for 
 example, before your arrival, she was as gay 
 as a bird ; and I remember that, all the way
 
 112 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 from church, she sang like a lark a kind of 
 song, of which she has comjDOsecl both the 
 words and the music' 
 
 ' I heard her singing it,' murmured Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 ' It is very pretty, is it not ?' 
 
 ' It is charming.' 
 
 ' I am glad you think that. AYell, five 
 minutes after your arrival, all her good 
 spirits had left her, and she is not more 
 cheerful even now. Yet to-morrow morn- 
 ing, perhaps, you will see her as bright and 
 cheerful as ever. But, under any circum- 
 stances, you will not, I am sure, speak a 
 word before her of what I have been telling 
 you ; nothing is so embarrassing to a young 
 girl as to hear her future husband spoken of 
 
 " You may safely rely upon my discre- 
 tion,' replied Lord Carleon with scarcely- 
 concealed bitterness. 
 
 ' It is getting late, and the night-air is 
 cool,' remarked Madame Simon; 'will you 
 come indoors?'
 
 THE BETROTHED. 113 
 
 ' I will rejoin you in a few minutes.' 
 
 'We sliall be waiting for you in the 
 house,' she said, as she turned and left him. 
 
 Engaged to Paul Duprat! Betrothed! 
 The worst he could have suspected. No, 
 not the worst; for thouo:h desio^ned to be 
 this rustic's bride, she did not love him! 
 How that assurance elated his heart ! All 
 beyond was vague, unresolved, unquestioned 
 even : why should it not be so ? His love 
 for Marguerite was yet but a sweet dream ; 
 the waking hour, come when it would, would 
 come all too soon ! He would do naught to 
 accelerate it. From these reflections he was 
 suddenly aroused by feeling a burning hand 
 pressed upon one of his own, while a breath- 
 less voice whispered in his ear : 
 
 'Leave your door open. I must speak 
 with you to-night.' 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER YIL 
 
 Marie's peeil. 
 
 The speaker was Marie ; and she had disap- 
 peared before the sound of her voice had 
 died in Lord Carleon's ears. 
 
 Vainlv he sous^ht to fathom the intention 
 of the young girl in thus addressing him. 
 "What could she have to say to him of such 
 "urgency as to impel her to take a course so 
 questionable as that of secretly visiting his 
 room in the night-time? He had barely 
 noticed her nervous manner while she was 
 in attendance on the j)arty at dinner, the 
 task of watching over his own conduct bav- 
 in sr absorbed his whole attention. But even 
 if it had been otherwise, her agitation would 
 have afforded him no clue to its origin. In 
 vain he recalled the incidents of his arrival
 
 Marie's peril. 115 
 
 on the previous day — of her obvious delight 
 at his return, of the sudden change that had 
 come over her at the sound of Marguerite's 
 voice, and of her anxious request to him, 
 not to speak of his having seen her; nothing 
 helped him to solve the mystery of her pre- 
 sent purpose. 
 
 Upon rejoining Madame Simon and Mar- 
 guerite in the house, his appearance of ab- 
 straction and uneasiness was so marked as 
 to cause Madame Simon to inquire whether 
 he was ill. Seizing the pretext thus offered, 
 he replied that he felt extremely fatigued ; 
 and retired to his room. 
 
 It was but just ten o'clock, and he might 
 have to wait a lons^ time for the arrival of 
 Marie. To quell his impatience and burn- 
 ing curiosity, he opened one of the windows, 
 and rested with his elbows on the sill, look- 
 ing out into the garden. 
 
 The night was magnificent ; the sky 
 spangled with a myriad of glittering stars. 
 All day-sounds had ceased, and only the
 
 116 TAVO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 love-signal of the cricket and the enraptured 
 hymn of the nightingale were to be heard. 
 The temperature was soft and mild, and a 
 light breeze, laden with the perfume of 
 flowers, caressed the cheeks of Lord Car- 
 leon as with the touch of a woman's breath. 
 
 Two hours passed, and he had heard the 
 distant clock of the church of Yalleboy 
 strike twelve some minutes before, when 
 the door of his room, which he had left 
 unfastened accordino; to the younof airl's 
 direction, softly turned on its hinges, and 
 Marie entered with a timid and embarrassed 
 air. 
 
 She was very pale, and her limbs ap- 
 peared to tremble ; the indecision of her 
 bearing contradicting the boldness of the 
 resolution which had impelled her to take 
 so dangerous a course. 
 
 Lord Carleon hastened to close the door 
 behind her, then took her hand and led her 
 to a seat, upon which she sank rather than 
 sat.
 
 Marie's peril. 117 
 
 A deep blush suiFused her neck and face, 
 makmg her beauty more splendid in Lord 
 Carleon's eyes. Unable to retain the mas- 
 tery of his emotions, he threw himself at her 
 feet, and the words of a passionate declara- 
 tion of his love sprang to his lips. 
 
 Marie raised her eyes, and the expres- 
 sion in his face revealed to the instinct of 
 her modesty what was passing in his mind. 
 She trembled for a moment ; but then, by a 
 strong effort, recovered her self-control, and 
 in a low and almost pained voice cried : 
 ' Monsieur Reginald !' — 
 ' Dear Marie !' was all he could reply. 
 ' You must not speak to me so — you 
 must not ! — but listen to what I have to tell 
 you. I told you this evening that I must 
 speak with you to-night,' she continued. ' It 
 is true. What I have to say to you is 
 very serious — terrible ; but for that, heaven 
 knows I should not have wished to seek 
 you here — should not have dared to do 
 so.'
 
 118 TWO WORLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 ^Something serious — terrible!' he re- 
 peated in a tone of perplexity. 
 
 ^Monsieur Reginald, you are in danger.' 
 
 ' Danger — of what ?' 
 
 At first she appeared to hesitate; but 
 after a moment of reflection and incertitude, 
 said abruptly and with singular energy : 
 
 ' You love Mademoiselle Marguerite.' 
 
 Lord Carleon started, but was silent. 
 
 ' You love my young mistress,' she re- 
 peated with yet more assurance. 
 
 ' Marie, I swear to you — ' he cried. 
 
 'Do not swear, Monsieur Reginald,' she 
 said, stopping him. ' Do not even deny what 
 I see and feel. You might as well attempt 
 to prove to me that it is not now the middle 
 of the night, as that you do not love my 
 young mistress.' 
 
 Marie spoke with absolute conviction, 
 with a certainty which Lord Carleon at 
 once attributed to the penetration with 
 which jealousy is so mysteriously gifted. 
 He made no reply.
 
 Marie's peril, 119 
 
 ' Yes, you love her,' she conthiued ; ' and 
 why should you not ? Marguerite Simon is 
 made to be loved — and perhaps to love. I 
 know — I know, you could not help loving 
 her ; but it is on account of this love that 
 you are in danger, from which I would pre- 
 serve you/ 
 
 Lord Carleon tried to force a smile to 
 his features, as he replied : 
 
 ' If the danger no more exists than the 
 love, I have not much cause of alarm.' 
 
 ' Again ! — again you deny it !' cried 
 Marie. ' Monsieur Eeginald, will you swear 
 to me on this cross,' and she held out to 
 him the little golden present he had made 
 to her as a gage d'amour^ ' that you do not 
 love Marguerite ? No,' she cried, suddenly 
 putting the cross into her bosom; 'no, — 
 swear it to me on your honour, and I will 
 believe you.' 
 
 Lord Carleon' s soul was not fashioned 
 to the easy management of conscience com- 
 mon in the corrupted society of the present
 
 120 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 day; he had not yet, m spite of his early 
 experiences, brought himself to believe that 
 an oath solemnly made to a woman carries 
 with it no obligation of fulfilment, or that 
 where love is concerned a lie is innocent, if 
 it be not actually justifiable. He refrained 
 from taking the oath demanded by Marie. 
 
 ' You see !' she cried hoarsely. After a 
 moment of what appeared to be a struggle 
 with anguish, she continued : 'It could hardly 
 have been otherwise; but your love is a 
 great misfortune ! — A young man came 
 here to-day.' 
 
 ' Monsieur Duprat ?' 
 
 ' You dislike liim — and he hates you !' 
 
 ' How do you know that ?' 
 
 ' Because I have seen the looks you 
 have turned on one another.' 
 
 ' But you may have been misled by 
 those looks.' 
 
 ' Have they misled me ?' 
 
 Again Lord Carleon hesitated to answer 
 with a falsehood.
 
 Marie's peril. 121 
 
 ' Monsieur Paul Duprat,' continued Ma- 
 rie, ' loves Marguerite — has loved her truly 
 and with all the power of his heart for 
 years; and her mother has promised that 
 she shall become his wife.' 
 
 'But does Marguerite love Paul Du- 
 prat?' cried Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' You know well that she does not/ 
 Marie answered; ' and Monsieur Paul knows 
 it too.' 
 
 ' Why, then the marriage is impossible, 
 that is all.' 
 
 ' It teas not impossible — but it has be- 
 come so.' 
 
 ' What do you mean?' 
 
 ' I mean, that if you had not returned, 
 Marguerite would have been resigned; now 
 she will resist.' 
 
 ' Do you really think so ?' demanded 
 Lord Carleon, with a feeling of savage 
 satisfaction. 
 
 ' I am sure of it. Monsieur Paul Duprat 
 understands perfectly that you are his rival.
 
 122 TWO WORLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 It is to your presence that lie will assuredly 
 -attribute the refusal of his betrothed. His 
 rage will equal his mortification. He will 
 burn to revenge himself; and it is on you 
 that his vengeance will fall.' 
 
 Lord Carleon could not restrain the 
 impulse to laugh. Marie looked at him 
 with bewilderment. 
 
 'You laugh!' she cried, with an accent 
 of terror. ' Good heavens, Monsieur Regi- 
 nald, do you not miderstand me?— I tell 
 you that is on you that his vengeance will 
 foil!' 
 
 ' Surely you do not expect me to attach 
 any serious importance to Monsieur. Du- 
 prat's vengeance?' he said. 
 
 ' Ah ! — You do not knoAV him ; that is 
 easily seen!' cried Marie. ' He is a true 
 mountaineer. His father is rich; but his 
 2:randfather was a smu2:2:ler, who thouo-ht as 
 little of killing a man as I think of pluck- 
 ing a flower. Paul Duprat has his grand - 
 llither's blood in his veins. Take care, Mon-
 
 makie's peril. 123 
 
 sieur Ecgiiiald! for the love of heaven, take 
 care ! If he finds that vou are an obstacle 
 to his love, he will destroy you. If he 
 SAvears to kill you, you will die by his 
 hand — struck down from some ambush 
 perhaps, as you avouIcI shoot a wild-beast ? 
 
 ' My dear Marie,' lie replied, half smil- 
 ing, ^ it appears to me that you have some- 
 hovv' conceived a truly formidable idea of 
 your young mistress's betrothed.' 
 
 ' It is because I know Paul Duprat, — 
 and because I feel,' she replied in a hoarse 
 and tremulous whisper, ' that love and jeal- 
 ousy may drive their victim to the com- 
 mission even of terrible crimes.' 
 
 The deep emotion with which she spoke 
 these significant words touched Lord Car- 
 le on to the heart. 
 
 ' What would you have me do ?' he asked. 
 
 Marie thought that he was about to 
 cede to her prayer, and a smile of relief 
 and gratitude illumined her features as she 
 answered eagerly :
 
 124 TAYO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' The only thing that can turn aside the 
 danger hanging over you — you must leave 
 this house at once ; you must quit this part 
 of the country — and never return to it.' 
 
 'Quit this country — never to return? 
 And would you consent, Marie, never to see 
 me again?' 
 
 She pressed her hand upon her heart, as 
 if to still its wild beating, and grew deadly 
 p^ale. 
 
 ' To save you — to save you,' she mur- 
 mured, 'yes! — I would consent.' 
 
 A scarlet blush once more covered her 
 face, and her eyes filled with tears. The 
 lull and complete story of her love had 
 escaped from her heart in those few words 
 of passionate abnegation. Lord Carleon 
 would have folded her to his bosom; but 
 with a low cry she evaded his embrace, and 
 fied from the room.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EVIL COUNSELS. 
 
 Doubtless, had Lord Carleon's heart been 
 free of the divme image of Marguerite, the 
 striking beauty of Marie, combined with her 
 innocence and her love, so little disguised, 
 would have exercised an influence over him 
 too powerful to be controlled; but the love 
 he felt for Marguerite was all- engrossing so 
 long as Marie was not before his eyes. 
 
 Yet, at this very time, the idea of mar- 
 riage never for a moment entered his mincl, 
 imbued as it was with aristocratic prejudices 
 which would have made him consider a 
 union with Marguerite Simon a mesalliance. 
 
 Accustomed as he had been from infancy 
 to look upon the portraits of his ancestors 
 he knew that each one of the lords of Car-
 
 126 TWO WOKLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 leon ]iad joined his arms to some heiress of 
 noble hneage, and it would have appeared 
 to him absolutely impossible for him to give 
 his name to a girl of humble and obscure 
 origin. 
 
 But, nevertheless, he shrank from the- 
 idea of bringing sorrow into ]\Iadame Si- 
 mon's home. Once ao^ain flf>:ht presented 
 itself as the only honourable resource left 
 to him. 
 
 At breakfast, on the mornino' followins: 
 his secret interview with Marie, he an- 
 nounced his intention of returning at once 
 to the chateau de Carleon ; and he observed 
 that Madame Simon made no attempt to 
 dissuade him. At the same time he re- 
 marked that she cast upon the pale face of 
 her daughter a look full of sadness and com- 
 
 o 
 
 miseration. 
 
 1^0 doubt she had discovered that a fatal 
 sentiment, gromng from hour to hour, had 
 implanted itself in the poor girl's heart. 
 Her manner was still polished and affec-
 
 EVIL COUNSELS. 127 
 
 tionate toAvards Lord Carleon ; but he felt 
 that a change had come upon her regard 
 for him, and that slie did not desire to re- 
 tard his departure by one moment. 
 
 Before noon he was on his way to his 
 own home, with a cheerless future before 
 him. 
 
 He had passed about two months of dull 
 and purposeless existence, when one morn- 
 ing his valet delivered to him a letter in an 
 unknown handwriting. 
 
 This unexpected missive came from an 
 old French gentleman who had been the 
 intimate associate of the late Lord Carleon 
 during the most irregular portions of that 
 nobleman's most irregular life. It expressed 
 the writer's desire to make acquaintance 
 with the son of his old friend, and his in- 
 tention of visiting the chateau de Carleon 
 on the folio wins; dav. 
 
 Lord Carleon had heard vaguely of the 
 character of his father's friend, the Chevalier 
 Philippe de Yilliers ; and though he instinc-
 
 128 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 tively shrank from association with such a 
 man, he was fain to admit that his visit 
 would at least serve to break the dull mono- 
 tony of the life he was then leading. 
 
 Punctual to the time he had appointed, 
 the Chevalier arrived in a post-chaise at the 
 chateau de Carleon. He was a brisk little 
 man, exhibiting a turbulent joviality of man- 
 ner that still belongs to the old French 
 character. 
 
 After saluting Lord Carleon in the 
 French fashion several times, and quite as 
 if he were in company with a man of his 
 OA\m age, he passed his arm through that of 
 his host, and led him into the park, where, 
 after speaking for a few minutes on tlie 
 subject of his late friend and one or two 
 members of the family of Lord Carleon, he 
 plunged into the recital of a crowd of sto- 
 ries and anecdotes more or less libertine in 
 spirit. 
 
 This went on until dinner was announ- 
 ced, and they seated themselves at table.
 
 EVIL COUNSELS. 129 
 
 The Chevalier tasted all the dishes, did 
 honour to all the wines, and complimented 
 infinitely the talents of the cook. As the 
 meal advanced, the old roue's spirits frothed 
 and sparkled like champagne ; but it was 
 only faintly responded to by his host, for 
 whom such a kind of gaiety had no charm, 
 at least not at that moment. 
 
 This want of sympathy was at length 
 noticed by the Chevalier, who, with a pro- 
 tean power of adapting himself to all occa- 
 sions, immediately changed the character of 
 his conversation, and became at once affec- 
 tionate, insinuating, even almost paternal. 
 In short, by the most artfully-calculated 
 means, he soon succeeded in drawing from 
 Lord Carleon the causes of his preoccupa- 
 tion — indeed, of all that had happened in 
 the house of Madame Simon. 
 
 Monsieur de Yilliers' eyes sparkled, and 
 his whole face was lit up with an expression 
 of joyousness, when Lord Carleon had fin- 
 ished his confession. He was wholly in his 
 
 VOL. L K
 
 130 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 element. He had before him a young man 
 trembling on the brink of a moral abyss, 
 and his was not a hand to be stretched 
 forth to save him. 
 
 ^ My dear boy !' he cried, ' allow me to 
 call you my dear boy ; I used to call your 
 father before you "my dear boy," though 
 he was as old as myself in years — ha ! ha ! in 
 years ! — and the words leave a pleasant taste 
 in my mouth, such as the infamous dishes 
 of the soi disant cooks of this half-dead 
 generation hardly by any chance ever do ! 
 My dear boy ! I believe in luck, which is 
 among the very few credulities that remain 
 to me; I believe it was luck that brought 
 me into your neighbourhood, at this par- 
 ticular time, when you were so thoroughly 
 in want of the sort of friendly counsel that 
 nobody can give you better, if so well as 
 myself 
 
 Lord Carleon, in appropriate terms, ex- 
 pressed his indebtedness to Fortune. 
 
 ' By the time a man has lived long
 
 EVIL COUNSELS. 131 
 
 enough in this most unquestionably best of 
 all possible worlds to be obliged to carry 
 spectacles upon his nose, he has learned — if 
 he isn't a fool — to know a good many things 
 by sign and by analogy: without fretting 
 my old nose, therefore, by pinching it with 
 my spectacles, I can see and understand 
 your position perfectly. My dear boy, you 
 have had a narrow escape !' 
 
 ' Escape ? I do not quite follow you. 
 Chevalier/ said Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' Most likely,' replied the Chevalier, tak- 
 ing a full pinch of snuff out of an enamelled 
 box. ' The fowler who knows his craft 
 does not leave his net exposed ; the fowler 
 who set her trap for you knew what she 
 was about, I make no doubt, and carefully 
 hid her springes from your sight.' 
 
 ' 0, my dear Chevalier, you do not know 
 Madame Simon,' exclaimed Lord Carleon. 
 ^ or you would never for a moment think 
 her capable of so unworthy a design.' 
 
 ' At your age I should have made pre-
 
 132 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 cisely the same remark — clinging to my 
 fondest illusions with the whole tenacity of 
 my inexperience ; at two-and-twenty it is 
 our noble privilege to believe that every 
 thing is exactly what we find it most agree- 
 able to think it, and no millstone is too 
 thick for our amour p^opre to see through 
 clearly.' 
 
 ' But there is such a thing as prejudice, 
 to which — if you will pardon my saying it 
 — age is especially liable.' 
 
 ' One of the strongest of the prejudices 
 of experience — with which age ought to be 
 synonymous, but which, I grant you, it is 
 not always — is in favour of the real to the 
 ideal, the assured to the speculative. A 
 young fellow who has never seen but half 
 a dozen pretty girls in the course of his life, 
 as far as it has gone, falls over head and 
 ears in love with the prettiest, and inevit- 
 ably thinks her an angel; give his judgment 
 the benefit of ten years' experience, and, 
 almost as inevitably, it will pronounce the
 
 EVIL COUNSELS. 133 
 
 charmer's greatest charm to be her obvious 
 affinity with the ante-angeUcal. Your Mar- 
 guerite has had the fortune, or misfortune, 
 to be born some time after the Age of In- 
 nocence — which, by the way must have 
 been an abominably dull time for men of 
 fashion — and, depend upon it, has distinct 
 notions on the subject of coronets ; having 
 had the benefit of a fond mother's best in- 
 struction to guide her in the way she should 
 go whenever Fortune happens to throw a 
 youth at once eligible and confiding in her 
 path.' 
 
 ' Good heavens, the thing seems impos- 
 sible !' cried Lord Carleon. ' Marguerite is 
 simplicity itself.' 
 
 ' My dear boy ! my dear boy ! you have 
 been in greater danger even than I ima- 
 gined,' continued the Chevalier; 'positively 
 your credulity alarms me. Simplicity ! 
 why, where the deuce do you suppose any 
 girl in these days could have come possessed 
 of it ? Simplicity ! it has not existed in the
 
 1 34 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 world since Eve's first ^r and- daughters had 
 home their first petticoats from the milHner's. 
 What you call simplicity is the commonest 
 of all baits to hide the matrimonial hook. 
 The type of Arcadian simplicity is an apple- 
 cheeked country girl, who will surrender for 
 nothing less than the title of " my lady/' 
 when a " my lord" happens to cheapen the 
 commodity !' 
 
 ' But I feel sure — if you knew her and 
 her mother — ' 
 
 ' If I knew them? bless you, my dear 
 boy, I know them ! I seem from your 
 efi'usive description, to have known their 
 ancestors before them ! They are of a pat- 
 tern; they are as distinct as the flavour of 
 a fresh truffle! What would you have? 
 Do you suppose that Madame Simon, drag- 
 ging out a wretched existence on the pen- 
 sion of a lieutenant of gendarmerie, does 
 not calculate the value of such a chance of 
 bettering her fortune as you offer ? — and — 
 positively I think I am blushing while I ask
 
 EVIL COUNSELS. 135 
 
 you such questions — do you think her such 
 an idiot as not to try and make security 
 doubly sure, by gettinp^ you to marry her 
 girl?' 
 
 ^You forget one thing, Chevalier, one 
 important point against your theory.' 
 
 ' Do I ? I shall be surprised if I find it 
 is so,' replied the Chevalier, taking another 
 full pinch of snuff. ^ What do you suppose 
 it to be ?' 
 
 ' You appear to me to have forgotten 
 what I have told you a propos of Paul 
 Duprat — that he is positively engaged to 
 Marguerite.' 
 
 The Chevalier laughed, not heartily, but 
 with a short, dry sort of half chuckle. 
 
 ' A comedy without actors, my dear boy, 
 is suggestive of a yet unheard-of ingenuity : 
 the character intended to be played by 
 Monsieur Duprat is as little original as the 
 plot in which Madame Simon plays the 
 worldly-wise mother, and your Marguerite 
 the well-instructed ingenue; the denoument
 
 136 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 of whicli is to be the equally happy circum- 
 vention of the infatuated young English 
 nobleman, and triumph of rustic virtue and 
 " simplicity" ! Marguerite Simon once safely 
 endowed with the title of Lady Carleon, 
 Monsieur Paul Duprat's broken heart will, 
 no doubt, speedily mend itself, and Mon- 
 sieur Paul Duprat's name will, perhaps, as 
 speedily figure over the door of a desirable 
 village cabaret at present to let. Psha! 
 my dear boy, don't look so savage. As 
 your devilishly clever, though decidedly 
 unpohshed Will Shakespeare says, " One 
 man in his time plays many parts;" and he 
 might have added, that, in playing those 
 parts he must necessarily see a good deal 
 of the doings of other actors in the drama 
 of life. At my age, it goes almost without 
 saying that, as well as having played a good 
 many parts, I must have noted how a good 
 many others have played their parts; the 
 dramatis personce in your comedy of "Vil- 
 lage Innocence, or the Credulous Noble-
 
 EVIL COUNSELS. 137 
 
 man," are familiar to me, every one of them, 
 I pledge you my word, as the characters in 
 my favourite Tartuffe /' 
 
 In this spirit the struggle was long 
 continued, and renewed several times. The 
 Chevalier's reasoning was far from being 
 immediately conclusive to Lord Carleon's 
 mind ; but the diabolical influence of his 
 views of life took effect nevertheless. His 
 language had the glitter of the serpent, that 
 seems to caress its victim the better to com- 
 pass its destruction. Without wounding 
 the susceptibiHties of his listener, he, one 
 by one, scofi^ed down all the beliefs of his 
 youth, demolished all his illusions. Finally 
 he took the young man's soul, as it were, 
 and softened it in the fire of passion, which 
 he excited with his infernal breath ; he then 
 kneaded it like molten wax, and gave it 
 back made more or less after the pattern of 
 his own. 
 
 Monsieur de Yilliers spent three days at 
 the chateau de Carleon. An hour after his
 
 1 38 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 departure, Lord Carleon was on his way 
 once more to the house of Madame Simon, 
 writhing under the galling belief of having 
 been ensnared — of having been led like a 
 greenhorn into a baited trap.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CONFRONTED. 
 
 By the time Lord Carleon had reached the 
 hut of the woodman Jean Nicod, where he 
 intended to pass the night, the evening was 
 far advanced ; therefore he deferred till the 
 following morning his visit to Madame 
 Simon's house. 
 
 Early the next day he presented himself. 
 Madame Simon was alone in her garden at 
 the moment when he passed through the 
 gate, and raised her eyes with such a look 
 of astonishment as almost to imply that she 
 did not recognise him. She advanced a 
 few steps to receive him, however, and the 
 reception she gave him was polite and 
 somewhat ceremonious, but far from the 
 tender and affectionate welcome he had 
 been accustomed to receive from her. Her
 
 140 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 embarrassed expression told him, as plainly 
 as spoken words, that his presence was 
 undesired. 
 
 This attitude, which so ill accorded 
 with the odious suspicions engendered in 
 his mind by the Chevalier, might have en- 
 lightened him, but it failed to do so. Re- 
 sentful of the stratagem of which he im- 
 agined himself to be the plaything, he 
 determined to take no notice of the ill grace 
 of his reception. 
 
 Without invitation he unslung his game- 
 bag, and ascended the stairs towards the 
 room which he had before occupied. On 
 the landing-place he met Marie. 
 
 'Monsieur Reginald !— good heavens!' 
 she cried. 
 
 He would have taken her hand, but she 
 shrank from his touch almost with affright, 
 murmuring : 
 
 '0, monsieur! — you went away from 
 here, leaving sorrow behind you. Are you 
 returned to bring misery and despair ?'
 
 CONFRONTED. 141 
 
 He endeavoured to detain her, but she 
 refused to answer his questions, and disap- 
 peared in one of the passages of the house. 
 
 These words of the young girl fell 
 heavily upon his heart, and rung in his ears 
 like a presage of ill-omen; but he drove 
 away the impression, and descended to the 
 garden to rejoin Madame Simon. 
 
 She appeared careworn and absorbed. 
 She had gathered some flowers, which she 
 held in her left hand, and from which she 
 mechanically plucked the petals, and drop- 
 ped them from her fingers without heeding 
 their wavering flight to the ground. 
 
 The sound of Lord Carleon's steps re- 
 called her to herself A sad smile showed 
 itself upon her lips, and she uttered a few 
 insignificant sentences, the sense of which 
 was not very clear either to herself or to 
 him. 
 
 After a moment of irresolution, he in- 
 quired about the health of Marguerite, put- 
 ting a great restraint upon his emotion, so
 
 142 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 that his voice should not tremble in pro- 
 nouncing her name. But possibly the effort 
 was not completely successful ; for Madame 
 Simon turned upon him a fixed and pene- 
 trating look, which, though it lasted but a 
 quarter of a moment, probed to his heart. 
 
 ' Marguerite is very unwell, and has not 
 left her room for several days,' she answered 
 briefly. 
 
 ' Good heavens !' he cried ; ' I hope she 
 is in no danger ?' 
 
 'I hope not,' replied Madame Simon, 
 with still greater brevity of tone. 
 
 ' Is your daughter's indisposition likely 
 to delay her marriage?' he asked hesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 ' Who knows ?' she murmured ; ' who 
 knows whether the marriage will take place 
 ataU?' 
 
 ' You told me that it was arranged; that 
 the period of it was fixed.' 
 
 ' Since then all is changed. Marguerite 
 refuses to marry Monsieur Duprat,' she re-
 
 CONFRONTED. 143 
 
 plied, again turning upon Lord Carleon a 
 sustained and penetrating look. 
 
 ' Why does she refuse ?' he asked, with 
 downcast eyes, unable to meet Madame 
 Simon's scrutinising gaze. 
 
 ' Marguerite will not tell me, and I can 
 only surmise the reason.' 
 
 He felt his lip curl involuntarily, but 
 these words were pronounced in such a 
 freezing tone, that he had not courage to 
 push farther his inquiries on the subject, 
 to which they had, as it were, set a formal 
 close. 
 
 At that moment Marie approached her 
 mistress and informed her that breakfast 
 was ready ; and Lord Carleon and Madame 
 Simon entered the house together. "Whe- 
 ther it was that Marguerite was really ill, 
 or that she kept her room by command of 
 her mother, she did not appear at table , 
 and the meal was partaken by Madame Si- 
 mon and her guest alone. 
 
 It passed sadly enough, and when it
 
 144 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 was over Madame Simon retired to join her 
 daughter. Marie carefully avoided meeting 
 Lord Carleon, and the icy mantle of dis- 
 couragement weighed heavily upon him. 
 
 The hours that followed seemed inter- 
 minable, and he had begun, in spite of the 
 Chevalier's teaching, to think of retiring 
 from a scene become so dreary and un- 
 promising, when he noticed outside the 
 garden-gate a ragged sheep-boy making 
 sounds and motions to attract his attention. 
 
 Thinking the boy was a beggar appeal- 
 ing to his charity, at the same time some- 
 what surprised at the little fellow's bold and 
 almost impudent familiarity, he was about 
 to throw him a piece or two of money, but 
 the boy stopped him with the question : 
 
 ' Did you come here this morning?' 
 
 ' Yes. Why do you ask ?' replied Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 ' Because I want to know ; I've got 
 something to give you,' answered the boy 
 saucily.
 
 CONFRONTED. 145 
 
 As he spoke, he handed him a large 
 letter, carefully folded and sealed, and ad- 
 dressed in a firm bold handwriting. 
 
 ^ Who sent you with this letter ?' de 
 manded Lord Carleon. 
 
 ^ You'll find that out when you've read 
 it,' replied the boy. 
 
 Lord Carleon broke the seal and read 
 the contents, which were to this effect : 
 
 ' You are called a gentleman, monsieur, 
 and from my childhood I have been un- 
 der the impression that nobleness of heart 
 always accompanies nobleness of race. I 
 do not doubt that you will deal with me in 
 such a manner as not to destroy this belief. 
 I feel for you a profound hatred, because I 
 feel that you have deeply injured me; and 
 I have a terrible reckoning therefore to 
 demand of you. If I were a Corsican, I 
 should waylay you, hidden behind some 
 bush, and my gun would do me justice. 
 But this is not the kind of justice that I re- 
 quire ; I seek a frank and loyal explanation, 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 such as becomes two men of honour, who 
 respect even while they hate one another. 
 I do not suppose that you will refuse me 
 this explanation, and shall await you until 
 six o'clock at the foot of the big oak at the 
 corner of the Bois des Nonnes, a quarter of 
 a league from the house in which this letter 
 finds you. Tell my messenger whether you 
 will come — yes or no.'' 
 
 The letter was signed ' Paul Duprat.' 
 
 ' WeU, what am I to tell him ?' asked 
 the boy, as soon as he saw that Lord Car- 
 leon had read the letter through. 
 
 'Tell Monsieur Duprat that 1 will not 
 keep him waiting; that I wiU set out at once 
 for the place he has named,' replied Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 The boy set off at a run ; and five mi- 
 nutes later Lord Carleon took the shortest 
 road to the Bois des Nonnes. 
 
 On reaching the spot indicated, he found 
 Paul Duprat seated on a large moss-covered 
 stone, and absorbed in a deep reverie, his
 
 CONFRONTED. 147 
 
 elbows resting on his knees, and his face 
 hidden in his hands. Lord Carleon stopped 
 when he had reached him within three or 
 four paces. Paul Duprat raised his head. 
 
 His face was frightfully pale, dark sha- 
 dows surrounded his eyes, and his weather- 
 bronzed forehead was marked with premature 
 wrinkles. The look he turned upon Lord 
 Carleon revealed an implacable hatred. But 
 by a wonderful exercise of self-control, he 
 banished from his countenance all expres- 
 sion of his inner feelings, and rising, saluted 
 Lord Carleon with cold politeness. 
 
 'Monsieur Duprat,' said Lord Carleon, 
 producing the letter he had received from 
 the sheep-boy, ' in this letter you require 
 an explanation between us; you speak of the 
 hatred with which I have inspired you, and 
 add that you have a terrible reckoning to 
 demand of me. Will you favour me by ex- 
 plaining what all this means? — for really I 
 do not at present comprehend.' 
 
 ' I will explain,' he replied coldly.
 
 148 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' As briefly and quickly as you can, if 
 you please.' 
 
 Paul Duprat leaped over the narrow 
 ditch which formed the boundary of the 
 wood, and beckoned Lord Carleon to follow 
 him. 
 
 ' Where are you going ?' inquired the 
 latter. 
 
 ' A hundred paces into the forest,' re- 
 plied Paul Duprat. 
 
 ' Cannot we talk as well here ?' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 'Why not?' 
 
 ' Because here we are not secure from 
 interruption, and I do not wish anybody to 
 see us.' 
 
 For a moment the idea that Paul Duprat 
 sought to draw him into the forest for the 
 purpose of murdering him crossed Lord Car- 
 leon's mind, and he hesitated to follow ; but 
 reflection quickly banished this apprehen- 
 sion, which, if it was ill-founded, would be 
 an insult to his rival, and might in any case
 
 CONFKONTED. 149 
 
 call down upon himself a suspicion of cow- 
 ardice. He followed Paul Duprat, therefore. 
 
 After moving a little way into the forest, 
 Paul Duprat stopped in a kind of opening 
 among the trees. 
 
 'Now,' he said, 'we can talk without 
 the chance of being overheard. First let 
 me ask of you to summon up your pati- 
 ence, for what I have to say will take some 
 time in the saying, and you must hear me 
 out.' 
 
 ' Be good enough to abridge as much as 
 possible what you have to say,' said Lord 
 Carleon, in a slightly supercilious tone. 
 
 Paul Duprat darted at him a look as 
 bitter and vengeful as that which he had 
 first turned upon him ; but again he quelled 
 the expression in his face, and replied : 
 
 ' I'll try.' 
 
 ' Accept my thanks,' said Lord Carleon, 
 in the same tone. 
 
 ' Monsieur de Carleon, I love Mademoi- 
 selle Simon,' began Paul Duprat.
 
 150 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 * Possibly. What then, my dear Mon- 
 sieur Duprat ?' 
 
 ^ I was to have married her in less than 
 two months from the present time.' 
 
 ^ And are you not going to do so T 
 
 'No.' 
 
 'May I ask why?' 
 
 ' Why !' he cried, in an accent of savage 
 rage. ' Do you ask me why ?' 
 
 ' I certainly did ask the question.' 
 
 ' You do not know why I am not going 
 to marry Marguerite Simon ?' 
 
 ' I really have not that advantage.' 
 
 ' I'll tell you, then.' 
 
 ' You'll confer a positive favour upon 
 me by doing so, my dear Monsieur Duprat.' 
 
 ' Why I shall not marry Marguerite Si- 
 mon is, because you. Monsieur de Carleon, 
 have sought to gain her love ; because, by 
 returning here, you have robbed me of my 
 betrothed, my future wife, and my happi- 
 ness.' 
 
 ' My dear Monsieur Duprat,' replied Lord
 
 CONFRONTED. 151 
 
 Carleon, in the same tone of impertinent 
 hauteur which he had affected from the 
 beginning of the interview, ' you have com- 
 mitted a very grave error — one which I must 
 beg you will allow me at once to correct.' 
 
 * An error?' 
 
 ^ You have made the mistake of applying 
 to me the word roh — I have rohhed you, you 
 say. Pray understand, and bear in mind, 
 my dear Monsieur Duprat, that though I 
 sometimes take^ I never steal.' 
 
 Paul Duprat had evidently well schooled 
 himself before coming to meet Lord Carleon ; 
 evidently he had determined not to suffer 
 himself to be irritated by anything his rival 
 might say ; thus the more surely to reach 
 the end he had in view. 
 
 ' Let it be so,' he replied, with a strange 
 coolness of tone and bearing. ' If the ex- 
 pression I used displeases you, I withdraw 
 it. But I repeat, that you have won from 
 me the love of her I love, and who was to 
 have become my wife.'
 
 152 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' Where the deuce can you have picked 
 up such an idea?' cried Lord Carleon. ' You 
 must have dreamt that Mademoiselle Simon 
 had fallen in love with me !' 
 
 ' It is no dream, Monsieur de Carleon/ 
 
 'A mere supposition, then, on your 
 part.' 
 
 ' A certainty.' 
 
 ' Based upon what facts, may I ask ?' 
 
 'What!' cried Paul Duprat, through his 
 half-closed teeth, ' you deny it, then ?' 
 
 ' Most completely,' replied Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' In spite of all evidence !' 
 
 ' Evidence which, I venture to imagine, 
 must be not a little characterised by ob- 
 scurity.' 
 
 ' You wish for proofs of what I advance T 
 cried Paul Duprat, with almost startling in- 
 tensity of expression. ' So be it, Monsieur 
 de Carleon : I will give you proofs ! 
 
 ^ From the day on which I first set eyes 
 on Mademoiselle Simon,' he said, ' I have 
 loved her; loved her with my whole heart
 
 CONFRONTED. 153 
 
 and soul — loved her with a love that nothing 
 can extinguish — that will go down with me 
 to the grave. My father asked of Madame 
 Simon the hand of her daughter for me, and 
 my suit was accepted by both mother and 
 daughter. 
 
 ' I do not venture to say that Mademoi- 
 selle Marguerite then felt for me an affec- 
 tion equal to that which I had avowed for 
 her. I do not believe she felt such an affec- 
 tion ; but after a while she consented to be- 
 come my wife, and love would have come 
 with marriage — for I loved her too well not 
 to have made her happy, and the gratitude 
 of happiness disposes the heart to love. 
 
 ' At that time Marguerite was as joyous 
 and free from care as any girl of her age 
 could be ; and it was easy to see that if her 
 heart was not wholly mine, at least it was 
 no one else's. 
 
 ' You came, monsieur. You spent a few 
 days under her mother's roof, and all was 
 changed. I met you at Madame Simon's,
 
 154 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 and from that moment I no longer recog- 
 nised my betrothed. You yourself could 
 not have failed to remark her coldness to- 
 wards me. She treated me no longer as 
 her affianced husband, not even as a friend, 
 but rather as a stranger whose presence was 
 distressful to her. 
 
 'And when you took your leave, one 
 might have said that you carried away with 
 you the whole of her youthful spirits, she 
 became so pale, so downcast. She seemed 
 as if she might be dying. 
 
 ' At length, when I again spoke of our 
 marriage, the period of which was approach- 
 ing, she told me plainly that she could not 
 love me — that she had never loved me, and 
 that she withdrew the pledge she had given 
 me of becoming my wife. 
 
 ' Now 1 ask you, Monsieur de Carleon, 
 on what other ground than that of her love 
 for you is it possible to explain her abso- 
 lute change of mind and refusal to redeem 
 her promise to me? From her birth Mar-
 
 CONFRONTED. 155 
 
 guerite Simon has known but two young 
 men, yourself and me; she loves one of 
 these two; it is not me — it therefore must 
 be you.' 
 
 Paul Duprat paused, but Lord Carleon, 
 who recognised the closeness and justness 
 of his reasoning, made no reply. Taking 
 this silence for a sort of acquiescence in 
 what he had said, Paul continued : 
 
 ' Monsieur de Carleon, my love for Mar- 
 guerite is strong — strong enough to enable 
 me to conquer even my hatred of you. I 
 love her so perfectly that I would not hesi- 
 tate to sacrifice my own happiness to insure 
 hers. It is for this reason that I now ad- 
 dress you in this frank and loyal manner. 
 
 ^ Marguerite loves you and you love 
 her — will you marry her ? will you render 
 her happy? Say to that ''yes," and to- 
 morrow I shall have quitted this country, 
 never to return to it, and you will hear no 
 more of me.' 
 
 His voice slightly trembled as he uttered
 
 156 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 these words, and he seemed almost inclined 
 to extend his hand to Lord Carleon. For a 
 moment the voice of conscience spoke mov- 
 ingly in the bosom of the latter, and had he 
 obeyed its first dictates he would have taken 
 to his heart the high-minded young man, 
 who, with a modesty and resignation little 
 short of sublime, offered to make for him 
 the most heroic of all sacrifices. 
 
 But a mocking demon conjured up be- 
 fore him the sardonic image of the Cheva- 
 lier laughing at his silly credulity; the 
 course of his ideas changed, and the only 
 reply he returned to Paul's touching appeal 
 was a short insulting laugh. 
 
 Paul Duprat's face became livid. 
 
 ' You take it so !' he cried in a half-suffo- 
 cated voice. ' You will not marry her ?' 
 
 ' Really I don't feel called upon to marry 
 all the young girls who may happen to de- 
 cline the honour of marrying you^ Monsieur 
 Dupratl*
 
 CONFRONTED. 157 
 
 'Is that your last word, Monsieur de 
 Carleon ?' 
 
 ' My very latest.' 
 
 ' Then hear me, monsieur : from this 
 moment I claim all the rights over Made- 
 moiselle Simon given me by her mother in 
 promising me her daughter's hand.' 
 
 ' By all means, as far as I am con- 
 cerned.' 
 
 'To me belongs the right and duty to 
 watch over my betrothed, to guard from 
 stain, not her honour, which is unassailable, 
 but her maiden reputation.' 
 
 ' And to what may all this tend. Mon- 
 sieur Duprat ?' demanded Lord Carleon, 
 who instinctively felt that the prologue 
 was finished, and that the drama was about 
 to begin. 
 
 ' To this !' answered Paul Duprat. ' I 
 forbid you to pass another hour under the 
 roof of Madame Simon.' 
 
 Lord Carleon started in angry astonish- 
 ment.
 
 158 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ^ You forhid me !' he cried, taking a 
 step towards his adversary, and making a 
 threatening gesture. ^ You forhid tciqV 
 
 Paul Duprat remained perfectly calm, 
 but he turned upon the other's face a look 
 of terrible fixity as he replied : 
 
 'Yes, I forbid you!' 
 
 Fire flashed from Lord Carleon's eyes, 
 as rage, in an instant, filled both heart and 
 brain. He closed his fist, and dashed it at 
 the young mountaineer's face ; but before the 
 intended blow had taken efiPect, the hand 
 that should have given it was seized and 
 held as in an iron vice.
 
 CHAPTER X, 
 
 * WHERE ARE YOU GOmO?^ 
 
 Paul Duprat held the raised hand of his 
 adversary for nearly a minute^ until he had 
 regained almost as perfect a calmness as he 
 had exhibited up to the moment the at- 
 tempted blow was given. 
 
 At first Lord Carleon thought his anta- 
 gonist meditated drawing a knife upon him. 
 He did nothing of the sort, however; but 
 on releasing the imprisoned hand, said : 
 
 'The blow you intended. Monsieur de 
 Carleon, is the death of one of us, and, 
 frankly, I tell you I am glad it is so.' 
 
 ' I am at your disposal,' said Lord Car- 
 leon. 
 
 ' 0, I expected you to say that, mon-
 
 160 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 sieur,' replied Paul Duprat, with a smile 
 upon his lips that sent a cold thrill through 
 the heart of his antagonist. 
 
 Lord Carleon's assurance was, in fact, 
 fast forsaking him; he felt both shame and 
 remorse at the action which rage had driven 
 him to commit — an action which he recog- 
 nised as being one of odious and altogether 
 unjustifiable brutality. But pride, which 
 was at the bottom of his nature, joined to 
 the prompting of the Chevalier's pernicious 
 counsels, forbade him to draw back. 
 
 ' You demand a duel, Monsieur Duprat,' 
 he said ; ' so be it. I accept beforehand all 
 the conditions you think fit to impose.' 
 
 ' Do you mean by that to confer a fa- 
 vour?' demanded Paul Duprat proudly. 
 
 ' Not at all ; I merely recognise in you 
 the right of the ofi*ended party.' 
 
 ' The conditions I name will be very 
 simple, and will serve you as well as me,' 
 
 ' Have you witnesses ?' 
 
 ' No, and I want none.'
 
 WHERE ARE YOU GOING ? 161 
 
 ' A duel without witnesses !' cried Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 ' Can we not trust in each other's fair- 
 ness?' 
 
 'No doubt we can,' replied Lord Car- 
 leon ; ' but custom — ' 
 
 * What does custom matter to us ?' cried 
 Paul quickly. ' Do you imagine that I 
 would compromise Marguerite for ever by 
 the scandal of a duel in a primitive country 
 place like this?' 
 
 ' What, then, is it you propose ? 
 
 '• That the darkness of night shall sur- 
 round our meeting ; that whichever of us 
 fate has designed to fall shall pass for the 
 victim, not of a duel or a crime, but of an 
 accident.' 
 
 'Will that be possible?' 
 
 ' Not only possible, but easy.' 
 
 'May I trouble you to explain how?' 
 said Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' Doubtless you know,' replied Paul Du- 
 prat, ' that in obedience to a physical law — 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 a law so strange that I will not attempt to 
 explain it — a man struck by a bullet, 
 whether in the front of the head or in the 
 chest, falls face forward?' 
 
 ' Yes; I know that. What then?' 
 
 'When a duel takes place between two 
 Corsicans, each of the adversaries places 
 himself at the opposite end of a newly-dug 
 pit, and whichever of them falls rolls into 
 this grave dug by himself' 
 
 ' But we are not here in Corsica, Mon- 
 sieur Duprat.' 
 
 'We can nevertheless, in our case, imi- 
 tate the method of Corsican duellists.' 
 
 ' You propose, then, that we should dig 
 a pit?' 
 
 ' Nature has spared us that trouble. On 
 the opposite edges of the Fosse aux Loups, 
 and separated by the gulf where it is widest, 
 we shall be face to face, and the body of 
 one of us — if not the bodies of both — will 
 fall into the abyss ; and when one or both 
 of our bodies are found crushed at the hot-
 
 WHERE ARE YOU GOING ? 163 
 
 torn, no one will think of searchins: for a 
 bullet- wo unci to account for death.' 
 
 'Let it be as you propose,' said Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 This prompt decision evidently surprised 
 Paul Duprat, who had doubted the adhesion 
 of his antagonist to so unusual a mode of 
 fighting. Lord Carleon could see by the 
 expression in his face that Paul Duprat, 
 deeply as he hated his rival, accorded to 
 him his esteem. 
 
 ' What weapon do you carry with you?' 
 asked the mountaineer. 
 
 ' A double-barrelled fowling-piece.' 
 
 'I will bring one like it,' replied Paul 
 Duprat. ' Do you use close-fitting bullets 7 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 'We will charge both barrels. If the 
 first shot produces no effect, we fire again, 
 until one of us falls dead.' 
 
 'When do you propose the meeting 
 shall take place ?' 
 
 ' To-night.'
 
 164 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 * At what hour ?' 
 
 ' The moon rises at twelve ; will you be 
 at the edge of the Fosse aux Loups at mid- 
 night?' 
 
 ^ I will be there/ replied Lord Garleon. 
 
 They parted, and Lord Carleon returned 
 to the house of Madame Simon. 
 
 The rest of the day passed wearily. 
 Marguerite did not appear at dinner, any 
 more than she had appeared at breakfast; 
 and Madame Simon and he alone partook 
 of the meal. 
 
 It was easy to be seen that a heavy sad- 
 ness weighed upon her; she scarcely ad- 
 dressed a sinofle word to her o-uest. The 
 eyes of Marie, who waited at table, w^ere 
 red and swollen, as if with many hours' 
 weeping. 
 
 ' Madame,' said Lord Carleon, at length 
 breaking the melancholy silence which 
 reigned over the entire party, ' I beg per- 
 mission to take my leave of you this even- 
 ing; for I cannot any longer abuse your
 
 WHERE ARE YOU GOING? 165 
 
 hospitality, and I shall start very early 
 in the morning, doubtless before you have 
 risen.' 
 
 These few words produced a magical 
 effect. 
 
 The sadness of Madame Simon was dis- 
 sipated as by enchantment, and at the same 
 moment an expression of terror which had 
 hitherto clouded the face of Marie was as 
 suddenly cleared away from it. It seemed 
 as if this announcement of Lord Carleon's 
 intended departure had lifted from the 
 minds of the two women an overwhelming 
 burden. 
 
 Madame Simon became once more al- 
 most as cordial to him as she had been in 
 his earlier visits, even speaking to him of 
 Marguerite ; a thing she had refrained from 
 doino; since the moment of his arrival. 
 
 Towards ten o'clock he retired to his 
 chamber, Madame Simon bidding him fare- 
 Avell as if he had been a traveller setting 
 forth upon a journey from which he was
 
 166 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 never to return. She kissed him tenderly 
 on the forehead, and wished him all happi- 
 ness in his life. 
 
 Marie had long before disappeared. 
 
 On reaching his chamber he looked at 
 his watch, and found that he had still two 
 hours to wait before setting out on his way 
 to the Fosse aux Loups. 
 
 After carefully loading his gun, he 
 opened the window and looked up at the 
 sky. The recollection of the night when 
 he had stood in a similar manner awaiting 
 the mysterious visit of Marie recurred to 
 his mind. 
 
 How different were the circumstances ! 
 — how different the aspect of the sky on 
 which his eyes now rested! Instead of 
 being lit by a myriad of beaming stars, the 
 heavens were as sombre as the roof of a 
 tomb. Nature seemed, as it were, shroud- 
 ino^ itself in a mantle of darkness. 
 
 In spite of himself he fell into reflection, 
 and his reflections were as sombre as the
 
 WHERE ARE YOU GOING ? 167 
 
 night, and as drear as death. And let him 
 fight against the impression as he might, 
 this conclusion stamped itself, as with a 
 corroding and irresistible power, on his 
 mind — that the sophisms of the Chevalier 
 had betrayed and brought him to the fatal 
 extremity he had now reached. 
 
 It was no longer possible for him to 
 close his eyes against the light that now 
 forced itself in upon his reason; he could 
 not conceal from himself how completely he 
 had been the dupe of his own preposterous 
 suspicions, in believing that Madame Simon 
 had sought to entangle him in the meshes 
 of a matrimonial intrigue. 
 
 But there was no retreating from the 
 position in which he was now placed, how- 
 ever false he felt it to be ; the fatal words, 
 • It is too late,' fell murmuringiy from his 
 lips again and again. And he could only 
 resolve to drain the bitter cup which he 
 had madly filled for himself. 
 
 As to his intention of quitting the coun-
 
 168 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 try on the following morning, should he be 
 still living, it was perfectly sincere. 
 
 On consulting his watch anew, he found 
 that the time for his departure had arrived. 
 Shouldering his gun, he extinguished the 
 candle in his room, and noiselessly made 
 his way out of the dark and silent house. 
 
 The moon did not rise before midnight, 
 and the darkness was so dense that he had 
 some difficulty in finding his way ; but after 
 passing out of the garden-gate he moved 
 rapidly in the direction of the place of ren- 
 dezvous. 
 
 Before he had taken more than fifty 
 l^aces, however, his attention was attracted 
 by the sound of a light step behind him. 
 He stopped to listen, and the sound ceased. 
 
 ' I was mistaken,' he thought, and con- 
 tinued on his way. 
 
 But again the sound, now much nearer 
 and more distinct, fell upon his ears ; and 
 for the second time he halted. 
 
 Almost as he did so, a hand was laid
 
 WHERE ARE YOU GOING ? ] G9 
 
 upon his shoulder, and a tremblmg voice 
 demanded, 
 
 ' Where are you going ?' 
 
 Marie was by his side. 
 
 * Where are you going?' she repeated. 
 
 'Do you not know?' he asked, after a 
 moment's hesitation. 
 
 ' How should I know? 
 
 ' At dinner this evening I announced to 
 Madame Simon my intention of taking my 
 departure ; you were in the room and heard 
 me, and the news, it seemed to me, gave 
 you considerable pleasure.' 
 
 ' You are really going?' 
 
 ^Yes.' 
 
 ' To return at once to the chateau de 
 Carleon?' 
 
 ^Yes.' 
 
 ' It's false I' she cried, in a voice of sup- 
 pressed agony, — ' it's false !' 
 
 'What makes you say that?' he de- 
 manded, startled by words so entirely 
 unexpected.
 
 170 TWO WORLDS OF FASHiOX. 
 
 ' I say that you are telling me false- 
 hoods — because you are not going away, as 
 you said you were; you are not now on 
 your way to the chateau de Carleon, but to 
 a meeting-place where you are going to 
 fight with Monsieur Paul Duprat. Say that 
 this is false, if you can!' 
 
 'Well,' he cried, after a moment's pause,, 
 during which he was utterly overcome with 
 astonishment at the completeness of the 
 young girl's knowledge of circumstances, 
 which he supposed to be only known to 
 himself and Paul Duprat ; ' I do not deny 
 what you say; I am on my way to fight 
 Monsieur Duprat ; but how have you come 
 to know all this, Marie?' 
 
 ' I saw the boy bring you the letter this 
 morning, and I felt sure that no one but 
 Paul Duprat would have sent you a letter 
 by such hands. You immediately left the 
 house, and from that moment I dreaded 
 danger to you; all the rest of the day I 
 passed in weeping. At dinner, when you
 
 WHEKE AKE YOU GOING ? 171 
 
 spoke of your intention to return to your 
 home, hope returned, and I thought that 
 what I had dreaded might not come to pass. 
 But I watched — for still I could not en- 
 tirely overcome my doubts — and you see 
 that I was right. Now tell me where Paul 
 Duprat is waiting for you.' 
 
 ' That I cannot tell you ; it is his secret 
 and mine !' 
 
 ' You shall not go to meet him !' 
 
 ' Shall notV 
 
 ' No, you shall not !' she cried vehe- 
 mently. 
 
 ^ Who will prevent me ?' 
 
 'I will!' 
 
 ' You, Marie ! By what right, in the 
 name of wonder ?' 
 
 ' By the right of my love — my love for 
 you, wild, hopeless as it is — my love, that 
 hangs upon your life — though it may be 
 but as the drowning Avretch clings to the 
 fragment of wreck that will but lengthe]! 
 his torment and sink beneath him at last.'
 
 172 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 It came too late. His heart was deaf to 
 her appeal He remembered only that Paul 
 Duprat was awaiting him, and that his 
 honour was at stake. What could the 
 despairing love of a poor peasant-girl wxigh 
 in such a balance ? 
 
 She saw that he was unmoved by her 
 prayer, and in her agony of soul she threw 
 her arms about him, to detain him in spite 
 of himself. 
 
 ' I must go, Marie,' he cried, ' I must ! 
 But calm yourself; I will return.' And as 
 he spoke he tried to disengage himself from 
 the living bonds that held him. 
 
 ' You shall not go !' she cried, her ex- 
 citement rising almost to a pitch of frenzy. 
 ' You shall not go ! you shall not go !' 
 
 Exerting all his strength, he at last suc- 
 ceeded in freeing himself from her grasp, 
 and sprang away from her under cover of 
 the thick darkness, taking the precaution to 
 turn his steps in a direction opposite to that 
 of the Fosse aux Loups, so as to mislead
 
 WHERE ARE YOU GOING ? 173 
 
 her, if she persisted in attempting to follow 
 him. 
 
 This ruse was successful. When, at the 
 end of a few minutes, he stopped to take 
 breath, he heard the sound of the poor 
 girl's steps becoming fainter and fainter in 
 the distance. Instead of pursuing, she was 
 hurrying away from him.
 
 CHAPTER Xr. 
 
 TWO GUN-SHOTS. 
 
 After pausing for a few minutes, to make 
 sure that Marie would not return upon her 
 steps, he hurried onward to the place of 
 meeting. 
 
 He reached the edge of the abyss domi- 
 nated by the rugged peaks of the Dent du 
 Chien at the moment when the moon, look- 
 ing like a fiery-red shield, rose above one of 
 the mountain-tops, and shed its pale and 
 uncertain light over the landscape. 
 
 In this faint light Lord Carleon recog- 
 nised the form of Paul Duprat, his figure 
 boldly relieved against the sky. He was 
 erect, his head slightly bent forward, and 
 his two hands resting on the muzzle of his 
 gun.
 
 TWO GUN-SHOTS. 175 
 
 Instantly upon hearing the step of his 
 adversary approaching, Paul Duprat raised 
 his head, and advanced a step or two to 
 meet him. 
 
 ' You are punctual, monsieur,' he said 
 with a sad smile. 
 
 ' I have not kept you waiting, I hope ?' 
 replied Lord Carleon politely. 
 
 ' Xo ; I had but reached here a moment 
 before you.' 
 
 ' If you are ready, we mil not lose any 
 time. One would rather get through such 
 business as ours as quickly as possible.' 
 
 ' Decidedly,' replied Paul Duprat. ' Is 
 your gun loaded?' 
 
 ' Yes ; and 3^ours ?' 
 
 ' Is loaded also.' 
 
 ' It remains, then, but to take our places 
 and fire.' 
 
 ' That is all. Is it perfectly understood 
 between us, that if the first shots exchanged 
 are ineffectual, we go on firing until one of 
 us falls?'
 
 176 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Lord Carleon made a sign in the affirm- 
 ative ; but this implacably-persistent hatred 
 and blood-thirstiness astonished and aofitated 
 him. His intention had been to receive the 
 fire of his antagonist, and then, if not struck, 
 to fire in the air; but the inflexible deter- 
 mination of his rival rendered the execution 
 of this project impracticable. It was to be 
 a duel to the death, and he must give or 
 take a death-wound accordingly. 
 
 ' Come,' said Paul Duprat. 
 
 Lord Carleon followed him, and took up 
 a position, by his antagonist's direction, on 
 the brink of the Fosse aux Loups, at a spot 
 where the abyss was from thirty-five to 
 forty feet across. 
 
 ^ I am now going to place myself on the 
 opposite side,' said Paul Duprat. * Let each 
 of us recommend his soul to heaven. Then, 
 monsieur, you will count aloud up to three ; 
 at the word "three," we fire together.' 
 
 ' So let it be,' replied Lord Carleon. 
 
 With a firm and regular step Paul Du-
 
 TWO GUN-SHOTS. 177 
 
 prat walked to the other side of the abyss, 
 and took up the position he had indicated. 
 Then he cocked his gun, and Lord Carleon 
 did the same. 
 
 'Are you ready?' 
 
 ' Yes,' replied Lord Carleon. 
 
 ' Then count !' 
 
 Lord Carleon raised his gun and cried, 
 
 ' One !' 
 
 Paul Duprat placed his gun to his 
 shoulder, as did Lord Carleon, whose voice 
 slightly faltered as he cried, 
 
 ' Two !' 
 
 Slowly and deliberately Paul Duprat 
 took his aim ; Lord Carleon covered his 
 antagonist more quickly and cried, 
 
 ' Three !' 
 
 It was the signal. A flash of fire darted 
 into the night; the surrounding rocks re- 
 peated the tremendous detonation that in- 
 stantly followed; and Lord Carleoh -heard 
 the hiss of a bullet passing within a fe^^ 
 hairs' breadth of his forehead. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 In his turn lie fired. A cry — a scream 
 of mortal agony — rang in his ears and froze 
 his heart's blood almost at the same instant 
 that his finger pressed the deadly trigger of 
 his gun; and then followed another sound 
 as terrible — the dull crashing of a body fall- 
 ing through the bushes bordering the black 
 gulf — down, down, till it was lost in the 
 unseen depths. 
 
 When the smoke cleared away, Lord 
 Carleon saw that he stood alone upon the 
 brink of the Fosse aux Loups. 
 
 Almost at that moment, as if it had 
 parted from the dying lips of his antagonist, 
 a wild cry of anguish reached Lord Car- 
 leon's ears ; and he recognised the voice of 
 ]\Iarie. 
 
 The dark drama had not been played to 
 its terrible conclusion without a witness. 
 
 Lord Carleon's hair rose on his head, 
 and he rushed towards the spot from which 
 the cry of the young girl had seemed to 
 come. Doubtless, in searching for him, she
 
 TWO GUN-SHOTS. 179 
 
 had reached the fatal meeting-place as Paul 
 Duprat received his death- wound. 
 
 But it was in vain that he searched in 
 all directions the neighbourhood of the Fosse 
 aux Loups; in vain he called to Marie by 
 name twenty times ; he could not discover 
 her, or even find a trace of her recent pre- 
 sence. 
 
 He trembled with terror lest a second 
 catastroj)he should have taken place ,* and 
 this new trouble joined itself to the remorse 
 which was already weighing with crushing 
 force upon his soul — for he felt that he had 
 shed the blood of a truly noble and gener- 
 ous man, and that for this a dreadful reck- 
 oning would be demanded of him. 
 
 This terror and agony of mind momently 
 increased in intensity, until they had com- 
 pletely mastered him, and he fled wildly 
 from the blood-imbrued spot, unconscious 
 of whither his steps were directed. 
 
 On this wild and insensate course he 
 stopped only when sheer exhaustion had
 
 180 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 succeeded to the tempestuous and delirious 
 workings of his mind. He leant against 
 the trunk of a gigantic tree, and endea- 
 voured to regain his lost self-possession. 
 
 The cool night-breeze played refresh- 
 ingly upon his forehead, and slowly the 
 irregular beatings of his heart were stilled. 
 He looked around him, in the endeavour to 
 discover where he was. A glance almost 
 sufficed to enable him to recognise the spot 
 on which he was standing : it was the corner 
 of the Bois des Nonnes, and under the very 
 tree against which he was now leaning for 
 support, Paul Duprat— but a few short hours 
 before — had almost gone so far as to offer 
 him his hand ! 
 
 It appeared to him that the earth was 
 about to open at his feet and engulf him. 
 In terrified haste he rushed from the unhal- 
 lowed spot. 
 
 His first intention, as we know, had been 
 to leave this part of the country imme- 
 diately on the issue of the duel, and to re-
 
 TWO GUN-SHOTS. 181 
 
 turn to the chateau de Carleon ; and he now 
 hurried forward in the direction of his home. 
 But before he had proceeded very far, he 
 suddenly stopped and retraced his steps. 
 
 He recollected that his two dogs were at 
 Madame Simon's ; and as he would not leave 
 them behind him, he returned to the house. 
 
 In following him Marie had left the 
 garden-gate open; and Fidele, who sat in 
 the opening like a vigilant sentinel, seemed 
 to understand that this negligence imposed 
 on him the necessity for watching more 
 closely than usual. He instantly recognised 
 Lord Carleon, and bounded with pleasure at 
 the sight of him. 
 
 The noisy welcome of the faithful dog, 
 however, threatened to betray Lord Car- 
 leon s return, and possibly to alarm Madame 
 Simon. With some little difficulty he 
 succeeded in quieting the too- demonstra- 
 tive beast, and passed into the house for 
 the purpose of opening the door of a sort 
 of cupboard, in which garden-tools were
 
 182 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 kept, and which served as a kennel for his 
 two dogs. 
 
 He had taken but a few steps along the 
 dark passage, when his feet struck against 
 the body of some one extended on the floor. 
 Quickly stooping, his hands encountered the 
 dress of a woman. In an instant the idea 
 flashed on his mind that Marie had re- 
 turned, and fallen insensible before being 
 able to reach her room. 
 
 Gently lifting the inanimate form, he 
 carried it up to the room which he had 
 occupied, and laid it upon his bed. He 
 then endeavoured to find some water to 
 sprinkle on her face ; but his mind was anew 
 thrown into confusion, and he could not re- 
 member in what part of the room the water 
 was placed. His only resource was to draw 
 a flint and steel from his game-bag, and re- 
 lio-ht the candle he had extino^uished before 
 going to the meeting-place at the Fosse aux 
 Loups. 
 
 Overwhelming was his astonishment and
 
 TWO GUN-SHOTS. i«o 
 
 agitation when tlie light revealed to him, 
 not the features of Marie, but those of Mar- 
 guerite ! All the events of this fatal night, 
 even the terrible part he had played in the 
 sanguinary drama so recently enacted, were 
 in a moment forgotten. He saw nothing, 
 he thought of nothing, in the entire universe 
 but Marguerite. 
 
 He knelt by her side, and gazed long 
 upon her pale face, plunged in passionate 
 €cstasy and ardent adoration. 
 
 In falling, Marguerite had slightly 
 wounded her forehead, the white and tender 
 purity of which was stained by the trickling 
 course of a few drops of blood. Lord Car- 
 leon covered this wound with kisses, stanch- 
 ing its bleeding with his lips. 
 
 Under the influence of these tender and 
 yet wildly-impassioned caresses — the first 
 that had ever touched her virgin forehead — 
 Marguerite returned to consciousness. 
 
 Her large eyes opened, and gazed on Lord 
 Carleonwith an expression of dreamy aston-
 
 184 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ishment, and he feared that she would re- 
 pulse him with affright ; but she did not do 
 so; and instead, a breathless cry of joy es- 
 caped from her lips. Then tears came to 
 her relief, and she murmured in sobbing 
 accents, 
 
 ' You are living ! Heaven be thanked T 
 
 She entwined her arms about his neck 
 with an abandon that proved her utter un- 
 consciousness of the peril in which she was 
 placing herself. 
 
 Alas, a thousand times better had it been 
 for her had her innocence been less perfect ! 
 How many tears of unavailing anguish might 
 then have remained unshed by her ! How 
 many years of fruitless remorse might then 
 have been spared Lord Carleon ! 
 
 Alas that remorse and grief should follow 
 alike upon the steps of guilt and innocence! 
 
 With w^hatever evil intentions Lord Car- 
 leon had returned from the chateau de 
 Carleon to Madame Simon's house, the 
 abominable sophistries of the Chevalier had
 
 TWO GUN-SHOTS. 185 
 
 lost much of their influence over him in 
 sight of the manifest uprightness and sim- 
 plicity of Madame Simon's behaviour to 
 him. 
 
 Guilty, deeply guilty, he was ; but his 
 guilt lay in permitting himself to be carried 
 away by the vehemence of a passion, which 
 both reason and conscience told him it was 
 of all things his duty to keep under control. 
 But clearness of vision returned to his mind 
 only too late, and with it came the pangs of 
 what was destined to be a life-long remorse. 
 Shame and terror seized him — and coward- 
 ice so abject, that before the dawn of day 
 he fled, leaving Marguerite to loneliness and 
 despair. 
 
 His flight was an additional guilt — a 
 crime. 
 
 When the sun rose above the mountains 
 he was far away. Early in the day he 
 reached his home, so overwhelmed by fa- 
 tigue, so pale and altered in appearance, 
 that his servants scarcely recognised him.
 
 186 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Home! The very Y7ord soon became 
 intolerable. The isolated and monotonous 
 existence, to which a residence at the cha- 
 teau de Carleon condemned him, left him a 
 defenceless prey to remorse, to drown which 
 he needed noise, movement, change. But 
 more than all he felt a need of the coun- 
 tenance of another mind, however sophisti- 
 cal, to support him against the unceasing 
 accusation of his conscience. 
 
 He sought the Chevalier, and proposed 
 that they should travel together for a few 
 months, the entire expenses to be defrayed 
 by himself. The Chevalier, whose purse 
 was anything but deep, willingly acceded to 
 the proposal, and they set-out together with- 
 out any fixed plan. 
 
 During the better part of six months 
 they moved about the highways of Europe, 
 now pitching their tent in Italy, now in 
 Germany — anywhere, in fact, whither 
 chance — which they had taken for their 
 o'uide — led them.
 
 TWO GUN-STIOTS. 187 
 
 Where Avere they going? Lord Grtrleon 
 knew not. What had they seen? Lord 
 Carleon had seen nothing. His body was 
 wandering purposelessly about the world; 
 his mind was always amid the mountains of 
 the Jura — with Marguerite. 
 
 At length he returned to the chateau de 
 Carleon, bearing back with him his load of 
 sadness and regret. ISTothing had happened 
 during his absence. One letter only awaited 
 him ; it had reached the chateau three 
 months before ; and he now opened it, with- 
 out feeling^ the least desire to learn its 
 contents. 
 
 But the words on which his eyes rested 
 nearh^ turned his brain. The letter was 
 from Marguerite. It was short and touch- 
 ing, at once suppliant and proud. It told 
 him the full extent of the misfortune he 
 had brought upon her, and with the noble 
 simplicity of an innocent victim, asked him 
 to give her his name and the protection of 
 a husband.
 
 188 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 A very tempest of remorse burst upon 
 his heart as he finished reading the letter, 
 and his reason would have given way under 
 the wild and terrible strain so suddenly 
 put upon it, but that an outburst of tears 
 came to his relief. 
 
 As soon as he was capable of forming a 
 resolution, he called for a horse; and be- 
 fore the tears on his cheeks were dry, he 
 was galloping towards the mountains. In 
 less than three hours he had ridden nearly 
 twelve leagues, and had reached a point 
 whence, through the openings of the forest, 
 he could discern the house of Madame 
 Simon, when his horse fell from exhaus- 
 tion. 
 
 He continued his breathless course on 
 foot. He scarcely seemed to tread the 
 earth under him — he seemed rather to fly. 
 
 At last he reached the garden-gate. It 
 was closed. All the shutters of the house 
 Avere drawn ; the house itself was silent ! 
 
 He rang the bell. No echo was awak-
 
 TWO GUN-SHOTS. 189 
 
 ened by its dull and stifled sound. No- 
 body answered its summons. Fidele was 
 not there with his noisy welcome as of old. 
 The house was deserted. 
 
 What had happened? 
 
 A few hundred paces off, a peasant was 
 driving a slow team of oxen, while he 
 guided his ploughshare through the stony 
 ground. Lord Carleon went up to him, 
 and questioned him with hesitation and 
 terror. The man's answers were in the last 
 degree disheartening. 
 
 The house was empty. Six months ago 
 Marie had disappeared, about the same time 
 that Monsieur Paul Duprat had left the 
 country. People at first thought that they 
 had gone away together ; but, a little while 
 later, somebody had found at the edge of a 
 mountain-torrent a gold cross attached to a 
 velvet ribbon; and the report was spread 
 that Marie had committed suicide, which 
 led to a search being made for her body — 
 and at lens^th it was found.
 
 190 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Nobody knew what had become of Paul 
 Duprat. 
 
 As for Madame Simon and Mamselle 
 Marguerite, two months ago they had left 
 that part of the country, without saying 
 where they Avere going, only telling those 
 w^ho asked them about it, that thev were 
 never comino; back ac^ain. 
 
 Lord Carleon hurried away, to hide the 
 agony with w^hich this account filled his souk 
 
 In all directions he sous^ht for Maro^ue- 
 rite. For years his life was devoted to the 
 task of seeking her ; and the fruitlessness 
 of his task was, in some sort, an expiation 
 of ills crime.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
 On the heart of Madame Simon the misfor- 
 tune of her daughter fell with a crushing 
 effect ; all other misfortunes she could have 
 courageously borne but this. ISFo thought 
 of blaming Marguerite ever crossed her 
 mind ; and her tenderness was redoubled in 
 answer to the demand made upon her by 
 the sight of her child's unmerited affliction. 
 Heart-broken, but still retaining energy 
 enough to face the difficulties of the position, 
 she had left her house and gone to live in 
 the most secluded dwelling she could find 
 in the city of Geneva, where she was entirely 
 unknown, and where she adopted another 
 name, still farther to guard against recog- 
 nition or discovery.
 
 192 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Here her strength had given way, and 
 she took to her bed, from which she was 
 never to rise again. Her latest breath was 
 spent in blessing Marguerite, and commend- 
 ing her to the care of heaven. 
 
 Deprived of her mother's support and 
 guidance the poor girl gave herself up to 
 unrestrained despair, for which there ap- 
 peared to her but one relief — the last ter- 
 rible resource of suffering too great to be 
 endured — suicide. After kissinsf a thousand 
 times the tranquil face that could no more 
 look back her despairing love, she rushed 
 from the house towards the lake, sobbing 
 wildly as she went. 
 
 It was night-time and dark, and the 
 path she was following on her dreadful mis- 
 sion seemed to be wholly deserted ; at least 
 she noticed no one on her way. Her pass- 
 ing, however, had been observed by a 
 gentleman who was seated on one of the 
 public benches near the shore. 
 
 He was smoking a cigar, and contem-
 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 193 
 
 plating the dark aspect of the broad-stretch- 
 ing lake, when the sound of light hurried 
 steps coming in his direction had first at- 
 tracted his attention. The wild sobbing of 
 the girl had at once made him take an 
 interest in her proceedings, and helped him 
 to divine the motive with which she was 
 speeding towards the water. 
 
 Softly and quickly he followed her — in 
 time to prevent the accomplishment of her 
 dreadful purpose. 
 
 Marguerite was powerless in his strong 
 but tender grasp; and little by little he 
 succeeded in subduing the frantic outpour- 
 ing of her despair. His voice and manner 
 both had a soothing influence upon her 
 mind, without her being conscious of the 
 effect they were producing. Gradually, 
 and without being a^^are of what she was 
 doing, she suffered him to draw from her an 
 explanation of all the later causes of her grief, 
 and a promise that under no circumstances 
 would she renew the attempt upon her life. 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Then he led her back to the house she 
 had come from, beseeching her to seek con- 
 solation and strength in prayer, and, before 
 parting with her, obtained of her permis- 
 sion to call and see her on the following 
 morning. 
 
 This gentleman was an Englishman ; by 
 name and title Sir Hubert Dalbright, Baro- 
 net. At the moment he was seeking in 
 travel diversion from the depressing mono- 
 tony, not so much of country life as of 
 country society. 
 
 He was five-and-thirty years of age, the 
 owner of a handsome house and estate in 
 Somersetshire of the value of ^ve thousand 
 a year. He was greatly esteemed by all 
 who knew him; and not the less a standing 
 source of surprise, from the fact that he had 
 never manifested any inclination to share 
 the advantages of his position with a wife. 
 
 Many overtures on this subject had been 
 made to him by old friends of his family, 
 who dreaded to see a name so long honoured
 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 195 
 
 ill the country become extinct. The richest 
 and most beautiful heiresses in his neigh- 
 bourhood had been offered to him. He had 
 but to make his choice, and it was almost 
 certain that his solicitation would be favour- 
 ably received. 
 
 To the advice or insistance of his friends, 
 however, he had always answered smilingly, 
 that he was not at all an enemy to marriage, 
 but found bachelor-life perfectly pleasant to 
 him; and that he should never marry but 
 at the dictation of his heart. And up to the 
 time of his departure on a tour through 
 Switzerland, Italy, Germany, and the north 
 of Europe, his heart had never spoken. 
 
 But, as the old proverb says, ' Nothing 
 ever happens as wished, as feared, or as 
 foreseen.' A great surprise was reserved 
 for the acquaintances of Sir Hubert Dal- 
 bright. 
 
 During the three first months after his 
 departure, he had written from time to time 
 to some of his relatives ; these letters sud-
 
 196 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 denly ceased — so suddenly, indeed, that it 
 was apprehended some accident must have 
 befallen the writer. 
 
 At the end of about a year, however, 
 Sir Hubert, without previous announcement 
 of any sort, returned home. He was not 
 alone, but accompanied by a young wife, to 
 whom he had been married abroad. 
 
 Great was the curiosity excited. Every- 
 body sought to know the Baronet's young 
 wife ; and at first a feeling of disfavour was 
 manifested towards her. It was generally 
 supposed that Sir Hubert had formed a mes- 
 alliance ; and this supposition appeared the 
 more likely when it was considered that a 
 marriage between equals in social position 
 and fortune is usually performed with some- 
 thing of public pomp and circumstance. 
 
 Feelings of hostility were of short dura- 
 tion, however; they rapidly gave way be- 
 fore the touching beauty and charm of the 
 young wife's character. She was but just 
 eighteen; and in her extreme youth, and
 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 197 
 
 in the angelic sweetness and purity of her 
 visage, there was something irresistibly at- 
 tractive. 
 
 She was fair and j^ale, with large blue 
 eyes of sad expression, like a melancholy 
 daughter of vaporous Germany. She rarely 
 smiled, but her smile was one of infinite 
 softness. In manners as in person she was 
 above and beyond criticism. She had the 
 simple, innate distinction of a young queen ; 
 a special grace was discovered in her every 
 movement. 
 
 A month after her arrival. Marguerite, 
 Lady Dalbright, was the admiration of her 
 husband's circle of friends. 
 
 Y es ; Marguerite Simon had become the 
 ^vife of Sir Hubert Dalbright, who had 
 snatched her from death; and who, after 
 hearing from her lips the entire story of 
 her life, had come to look on her as an 
 angel of truth and purity walking the earth, 
 and claimed her as a gift from heaven. 
 
 Her bearing towards him was sometimes
 
 198 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 strange. She appeared to love him with a 
 profound and inexpressible tenderness; yet 
 there were moments when she shrank from 
 him, as if he inspired her with affright. The 
 look she turned on him almost always ex- 
 pressed respect and gratitude; when she 
 addressed him, her voice was almost tre- 
 mulous, and she spoke with a sort of humble 
 and timid submission which nothing in his 
 bearing appeared to justify; for his manner 
 towards her was that of a man who idolised 
 her, and to whom the slightest wish ex- 
 pressed by her would be a delightful com- 
 mand. 
 
 At the time of her arrival Marguerite 
 was within a few weeks of becoming a 
 mother; but the looked-for event did not 
 appear to bring with it the joy which usu- 
 ally belongs to the birth of an heir. As the 
 moment drew near, Marguerite's sadness in- 
 creased, and she passed long hours kneeling 
 in prayer, and weeping tears of bitterness. 
 
 Sir Hubert also appeared careworn, and
 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 199 
 
 though he tried to conceal the trouble by 
 which he was oppressed, he could not banish 
 from his brow the deep and permanent 
 wrinkle which had settled there ; nor could 
 he hide the darkened rings that surrounded 
 his eyes, and told of nights of sleeplessness 
 and mental suiFering. 
 
 At length the news was brought to him 
 that he was a father — that a son was born 
 to him ; and he was summoned to the side 
 of his wife. 
 
 Marguerite was pale, and her eyes were 
 closed as he entered the chamber; but she 
 instantly recognised the sound of his foot- 
 steps, and a feeble cry escaped from her lips. 
 He took her nerveless hands in his, and 
 kissed her with ineffable tenderness. 
 
 Then the new-born infant was brought 
 to him, but, as if compelled by an irresis- 
 tible impulse, he fell back a step, and turned 
 deadly pale. 
 
 Maroruerite saw and heard all that was 
 
 o 
 
 passing. In spite of her weakness she raised
 
 200 TWO WORLDS OE FASHION, 
 
 herself upon her elbow, her head thrown 
 forward, and her look filled mth alarm, as 
 if something terrible was taking place. Sir 
 Hubert's eyes rested upon her face, and in 
 a moment the expression of his own visage 
 was calmed, a smile beamed on his lips, and 
 he bent over the infant and kissed its fore- 
 head, murmuring as he did so, 
 
 ' Poor child, it resembles its mother.' 
 
 He then gently returned to Marguerite's 
 side, and she wound her arms about his 
 bowed head, and pressed it to her heart in 
 a sort of delirium. 
 
 ' Heaven for ever bless you for all your 
 goodness !' she cried, and overcome by this 
 passionate effort, she sank back upon her 
 pillow. 
 
 By the doctor's advice. Sir Hubert left 
 his wife to the repose so needful to her, and 
 shut himself in his hbrary, where, two hours 
 later, a message was brought to him that 
 Lady Dalbright desired to speak with him. 
 Without a moment's loss of time he obeyed
 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 201 
 
 the summons, a vague sense of terror steal- 
 ing over him as he approached his wife's 
 chamber. 
 
 ^ Do not be alarmed,' she said, on ob- 
 serving the inquiring anxiety expressed in 
 his face. 
 
 ' What is it yau wish to say to me, my 
 dear wife ?' he asked, as he seated himself 
 by her bedside. 
 
 For a moment she was silent, as if she 
 hesitated to reply.. Then she said, 
 
 ^ My dear husband, you are noble- 
 minded, delicate, generous, chivalrous; you 
 have been so infinitely compassionate to me 
 that, if I might, I would never more address 
 you but on my knees; the very greatness 
 of your goodness makes me fear to abuse 
 
 it; 
 
 ' I do not understand you,, my darling,^ 
 he replied. 
 
 ' I wish to know your orders,' she said. 
 
 ' My orders ! — on what subject?' 
 
 ' With regard to — to my poor child.'
 
 202 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' Orders, my Marguerite ! what do you 
 mean ?' 
 
 ' I desire to know what is to become of 
 it ; where you wish me to send it ?' she 
 cried, in a voice almost stifled with sobs. 
 
 * My dearest wife,' replied Sir Hubert? 
 with a tender solemnity of tone and manner, 
 and taking her hand in his, ' the son's place 
 is in his father's house. Our child will live 
 here, under our own roof 
 
 Marguerite uttered a long cry of joy — a 
 cry that seemed to express an almost super- 
 human concentration of feelinof. Her hand 
 closed with a gentle and sustained pressure 
 on that of her husband, and her eyes closed 
 as in sleep. 
 
 Sir Hubert's eyes were blinded with 
 tears, or he would have seen that the angelic 
 tranquillity which had fallen upon the fea- 
 tures of his wife was not of this world.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 
 
 The blow of his wife's death fell with ter- 
 rible and devastating force upon the heart 
 of the bereaved Baronet. For some time 
 life hung by him almost at the mercy of 
 chance; but at length the goodness of his 
 nature and the strength of his constitution 
 saved him from the threatened grasp of 
 death. 
 
 He rose from his bed of sickness an 
 altered man, sombre and taciturn. He 
 avoided all society, even that of his nearest 
 friends, and his mansion — once so full of life 
 and cheerfulness — ^became dull and silent as 
 a deserted cloister. 
 
 From the day of Marguerite's death, her
 
 204 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 child, which had been baptised and received 
 the name of Gerald Dalbright, had been 
 placed at nurse in one of the villages near 
 Dalbright Hall; and the Baronet appeared 
 to avoid as far as possible speaking of him, 
 or hearing him spoken of. 
 
 Nobody was surprised at this evidence 
 of what was taken for a natural repulsion. 
 Sir Hubert adored his wife^ and could not 
 bear to look upon even the innocent cause 
 of her death. This was the view taken by 
 everybody. 
 
 For her young charge, on the other 
 hand, the nurse to whose care he had been 
 confided conceived as truly maternal a fond- 
 ness as if he had been one of her own child- 
 ren. He was anything but strong at his 
 birth ; and it is not impossible that, to the 
 simple open-air existence he led in his ear- 
 liest years, he owed the health and strength 
 which he later enjoyed, — if, indeed, it had 
 not been better that he had gone to the 
 grave an infant.
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 205 
 
 Sir Hubert Dalbright's character, as has 
 been indicated, was that of a religious- 
 minded man ; yet for a while the poignancy 
 of his grief had made him doubt of heaven's 
 justice in depriving him of all he esteemed 
 of most worth in the world ; but as the bit- 
 terness of his sorrow was assuaged by time, 
 his mind bowed mth humility, and he re- 
 turned to the recollection of the sacred 
 duties he had taken upon himself. 
 
 He had not seen Marguerite's child for 
 six years, and his conscience told him that 
 in this he had done wrong. He did not 
 hesitate for a moment to repair his fault. 
 
 The child had grown into the image of 
 his mother, and the sight of him revived, 
 with terrible intensity, the half-silenced an- 
 guish of her grief- stricken husband. But 
 the likeness between the mother and child 
 was that of the face only, as Sir Hubert too 
 soon discovered. 
 
 He was six years old. His natural in- 
 telligence was far superior to that of his
 
 206 TWO WOKLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 rustic companions. Of instruction he had 
 received none whatever. 
 
 Neither sun nor wind had injured the 
 fresh fairness of his complexion ; and, with 
 his thick blonde hair falling in curls upon 
 his shoulders, he was as beautiful as one of 
 Raphael's cherubs. To see him in the midst 
 of the nurse's four children, dressed like 
 them, gnawing heartily a big hunk of bread 
 and cheese, little Gerald looked like an 
 angel dropped by some chance among those 
 peasant children. 
 
 From having heard it said, he knew that 
 he was the son of a rich Baronet, who would 
 some day come to take him home ; but the 
 words baronet, riches, and hall, carried with 
 them but a vague significance to the child- 
 ish mind. 
 
 His father, the Baronet, he did not 
 know ; he knew, on the other hand, the 
 husband of his nurse, and called him 'papa.' 
 He loved this rough and worthy fellow, 
 loved his nurse, loved his little companions,
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 207 
 
 their children; he was perfectly happy, in- 
 deed, with all his surroundings ; and had 
 he been old enough to have known what his 
 future life was to be, he would hardly have 
 desired greater happiness than to pass his 
 entire days in the farm of his affectionate 
 nurse. There, perhaps, he might have found 
 true happiness ; but destiny had determined 
 otherwise in his regard. 
 
 Convinced that he had too long delayed 
 the fulfilment of his duty to Marguerite's 
 son, Sir Hubert determined to go and see 
 the child — the child born, as it were, of 
 tears. Mounting his horse, therefore, he 
 rode over to the little village where Gerald 
 was living ; his thoughts during his ride 
 turning back sorrowfully to the past, and 
 his eyes dimmed with tears, as he pictured 
 the joy that would have surrounded every 
 step of his life had Marguerite lived to shed 
 the radiance of her love upon his life. 
 
 He had dropped the reins upon his 
 horse's neck, and with down-bent head was
 
 208 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 absorbed in these reflections, when sud- 
 denly the horse stopped abruptly. Me- 
 chanically he raised his eyes, and then it 
 seemed that a vision was before him — Mar- 
 guerite, her great soft blue eyes looking 
 into his ! 
 
 ' Marguerite! are you come to seek me?' 
 he murmured with pious enthusiasm; ^are 
 you come to take me away with you?' 
 
 But he had scarcely uttered this passion- 
 ate invocation before he perceived that it 
 was no illusion, no visitant from another 
 world, on which he was gazing, but reality. 
 
 A group of five children were in the 
 middle of the road, and one of these was the 
 faithful image, the living portrait of Mar- 
 guerite — his lost and deplored Marguerite. 
 
 In a moment he understood all, and, 
 springing from his horse, took the beautiful 
 child's head between his hands, inquiring : 
 
 'Is not your name Gerald?' 
 
 ' Yes,' replied the child ; and added 
 proudly, ' Gerald Dalbright.'
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 209 
 
 These words, simple as they were, pro- 
 duced upon Sir Hubert an astonishing ef- 
 fect — wrought in his heart and feeUngs a 
 change, complete, absolute, incomprehen- 
 sible. All the bitterness passed away from 
 his remembrance as by enchantment. He 
 saw in Gerald nothino^ but the imao;e of 
 Marguerite. He said to himself that only 
 two like souls could inhabit two bodies so 
 much alike ; and all the fervid love he had 
 felt for the mother turned in holy affection 
 to the child. He took Gerald in his arms 
 and pressed him to his bosom; and he 
 covered his fair face with kisses and tears 
 — tears not wholly of pain. 
 
 Gerald was not at all frightened by these 
 impassioned caresses, but only greatly sur- 
 prised. 
 
 ' Who are you, sir ?' he said ; ' I never 
 saw you before.' 
 
 ' I am your father, my child,' replied the 
 Baronet through his tears. 
 
 ' 0, then you are the gentleman the big 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Hall belongs to — Dalbright Hall?' demanded 
 the child. 
 
 *Yes, my dear.' 
 
 ' 0, then, as you are my papa, I shall 
 love you when I get to know you; but I 
 don't know you yet, and so I love Westfield 
 now, you see.' 
 
 Sir Hubert was about to reply, but the 
 child gave him no time. 
 
 'Is that handsome horse yours?' he 
 asked, pointing to the animal, which was 
 vainly trying to crop a few mouthfuls of 
 grass from the roadside. 
 
 ' Yes, my child.' 
 
 ' ! Well, then, as you are my papa, I 
 want to ride on horseback ; put me on your 
 horse.' 
 
 The Baronet smilingly obeyed. Gerald 
 drove his heels into the horse's flanks 
 while Sir Hubert led it by the bridle, and 
 shouted : 
 
 ' Hi ! Gee-up ! Gallop, gaUop !' 
 
 'If you like,' said the Baronet, ^you
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 211 
 
 shall have a little horse to ride on entirely 
 by yourself.' 
 
 ^ Yes ; I shall like that. Let me have it 
 at once.' 
 
 ' To-morrow — ' 
 
 ' To-morrow ! 0, that's such a long 
 time to wait. I want to ride to the farm 
 to-day, so that papa Westfield and mamma 
 may see me.' 
 
 Sir Hubert led the horse, which ad- 
 vanced at a grave pace with its little rider, 
 and followed by the four sons of his nurse ; 
 who, seeing the party enter the farmyard, 
 and recognising the Baronet, uttered an 
 exclamation of surprise. 
 
 ' Gracious goodness !' she cried, ' can it 
 be possible?' 
 
 'Look — look, mamma!' cried Gerald; 
 ' see how well I sit on a big horse.' 
 
 ' Yes, my pet ; you look as strong and 
 bold as a boy of fifteen.' 
 
 Sir Hubert lifted him out of the saddle, 
 and set him on the ground. He instantly
 
 212 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ran to his nurse, and whispered in her 
 ear: 
 
 ' Mamma, this gentleman says he's my 
 papa ; is he?' 
 
 'Certainly he is,' she replied; ' Sir Hu- 
 bert Dalbright, about whom we have so 
 often spoken to you, and taught you to 
 remember in your prayers morning and 
 night.' 
 
 ' Dear child !' cried Sir Hubert, again 
 kissing him ; ' does he pray for me ?' 
 
 ' And for mamma, too — mamma who is 
 in heaven, I mean,' replied the child. 
 
 Tears again filled Sir Hubert's eyes. 
 
 ' You are an excellent woman, Mrs. 
 Westfield,' he said to the nurse with strong 
 emotion. 
 
 ' None too good, I fear. Sir Hubert,' she 
 replied ; ' but T may say for certain that I 
 have always felt as fond of your son as if 
 he had been one of my own children. 
 Haven't I always loved you, Gerald?' 
 
 '0 yes, mamma; you've always given
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 213 
 
 me nice large slices of bread ; but this gen- 
 tleman is my papa, and he's going to give 
 me a pony all for myself.' 
 
 The conversation, as far as it had gone, 
 passed in the farmyard; at that moment a 
 robust-looking man appeared on the thres- 
 hold of the house. 
 
 ' Here, William, come here !' cried Mrs. 
 Westfield. 
 
 ' What's the matter?' inquired the farmer, 
 slowly approaching the group. 
 
 ' Here's Sir Hubert — Sir Hubert Dal- 
 ■ bright.' 
 
 On hearing the Baronet's name in full, 
 the farmer stopped short and uttered a long 
 low whistle, at the same time turning to 
 his wife with a puzzled expression of coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 ' My coming appears to have greatly 
 surprised you, Mr. Westfield,' remarked Sir 
 Hubert. 
 
 ' Well, Sir Hubert, to tell the truth, we 
 had a'most given up the idea of your ever
 
 214 TWO WOKLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 coming to see the little one/ replied the 
 farmer ; ' six years is a goodish long time — ' 
 
 ^But don't think that we blame you/ 
 cried Mrs. Westfield. 
 
 ' No, no — of course not/ chimed in her 
 husband. 
 
 ' But I blame myself/ said Sir Hubert. 
 
 ' The little one, however, has been quite 
 happy with us, and, so long as you like to 
 leave him with us, we shall be glad to have 
 him.' 
 
 ' You are good people,' replied Sir Hu- 
 bert, ^ and I will reward your kindness as it 
 deserves.' 
 
 ' We want no reward, Sir Hubert ; it is 
 not for gain that we wish to keep the little 
 one with us. Are you thinking of taking 
 him away?' 
 
 ' Yes, friends.' 
 
 'Soon?' 
 
 ' To-day.^ 
 
 Mrs. Westfield burst into tears. 
 
 ' I have so long culpably deprived my-
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 215 
 
 self of the society of my son, that you can 
 well understand I am impatient to have 
 him by me/ 
 
 ^ It's only natural it should be so,' re- 
 plied Mrs. Westfield ; ' but at the thought 
 of this dear child going away, I feel as much 
 as if one of my own little ones were about 
 to be taken from me.' 
 
 She turned towards her four children, 
 who were standing by with open mouths 
 and staring eyes, understanding little or 
 nothing at all of what was passing. 
 
 ' Children, your brother Gerald is going 
 away, and you will never see him again,' 
 she said. 
 
 The effect of these words was as instan- 
 taneous as that of an electrical shock. Eight 
 elbows was suddenly raised, eight doubled 
 fists were thrust into four pairs of eyes, and 
 a quartett of dismal howls broke forth sim- 
 ultaneously. 
 
 For a moment Gerald, whose attention 
 was diverted from his father's horse, joined
 
 216 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 his cries and tears to those of his foster- 
 brothers, and he exclaimed : 
 
 ' I won't go ! — I won't be taken away !' 
 
 ' You see — you see,' cried the good 
 woman with legitimate pride, ' how fond he 
 is of us.' 
 
 It was evident to Sir Hubert, under the 
 circumstances, that the best course he could 
 take was to temporise ; seeing that it would 
 be cruelty to take a child from the midst of 
 those whom he was accustomed to consider 
 as his family, and to carry him in spite of 
 his resistance to a place unknown to him, 
 where all the faces that would surround 
 him would be equally strange. He there- 
 fore told Gerald that he should remain at 
 the farm as long as he liked. The child's 
 tears was instantly dried, and his delight 
 expressed itself in shouts of joy. 
 
 Sir Hubert spent the remainder of the 
 day with Gerald, and on parting with him 
 to return home, announced his intention of 
 coming back to see him on the day but one
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 217 
 
 following. Already familiar with him, and 
 accustomed to his caresses, Gerald felt a sort 
 of regret on seeing him go away. 
 
 Two days later Sir Hubert returned ac- 
 cording to his promise. He was accompanied 
 by a servant leading a beautiful Shetland 
 pony, with long tail and mane, equipped 
 with a handsome saddle and bridle. 
 
 At sight of the pony Gerald went into an 
 ecstasy of delight. He insisted upon being 
 instantly helped into the saddle, and at the 
 end of an hour rode. all about the farm with- 
 out needing to be held on. The farmer's 
 sons were permitted to bestride the pony in 
 turns, but one after another they lost their 
 equilibrium and tumbled on to the grass 
 amid shouts of laughter; and the amuse- 
 ment was continued until the children were 
 all fairly tired out. 
 
 The next day Sir Hubert returned, to 
 give Gerald a fresh lesson in riding, and the 
 child grew rapidly to be fond of him, and 
 constantly called him ^ Papa.' These visits
 
 218 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 to the farm were continued for a week. At 
 the end of that time Sir Hubert invited Mr. 
 and Mrs. Westfield with the children to 
 come for a day to Dalbright Hall. 
 
 This invitation was accepted with plea- 
 sure. Gerald had never been away from 
 the farm; for him, consequently, the word 
 Hall signified nothing very precise. At first 
 he was speechless and stupefied by the won- 
 ders of his father's dwelling-place. But at 
 sight of the luxury, elegance, and richness 
 that met his gaze on all sides, instincts until 
 then unknown suddenly awoke within his 
 soul. 
 
 He immediately realised the fact of his 
 being in his own home, that all belonged to 
 him, that he had only to desire to have. 
 He at once divined the superiority of his po- 
 sition, as the son of a rich gentleman, over 
 that of the little peasants, whom till then 
 he had considered as his brothers. Hardly 
 had he felt his superiority ere he abused it, 
 by making it felt by his companions. Hi-
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 219 
 
 therto he had been their comrade and equal ; 
 he assumed to be their master and oppressor. 
 
 The farmer's eldest boy, in whose mind 
 the idea of social distinction was yet wholly 
 undeveloped, declined to put up with Mas- 
 ter Gerald's high airs ; they appealed to the 
 right of the stronger, and Gerald was beaten. 
 He immediately ran crying and complaining 
 to his father. Sir Hubert was too just to do 
 wrong to the farmer's children, who, after 
 all, had only acted in self-defence ; but he 
 turned the occasion to the advantage of his 
 wishes, by demonstrating to Gerald that his 
 foster-brothers were too rough by nature for 
 him to sympathise with them entirely. He 
 made him comprehend that his proper place 
 was at the Hall, where he would find him- 
 self much happier than at the farm, for he 
 would there be alone and the master. This 
 reasoning, supported by the pain of the 
 blows he had received, appeared to be quite 
 convincing. 
 
 He was, at first, somewhat alarmed at
 
 220 TWO WORLDS or FASHION. 
 
 the idea of being alone ; but upon Sir Hu- 
 bert showing him a handsome little gun, and 
 promising to teach him how to shoot birds 
 with it every day in the park, he ceased to 
 make any sort of objection to remaining at 
 the Hall. 
 
 His decision caused great sorrow to the 
 Westiields, both husband and wife, and 
 above all to their children, who bore no 
 animosity for the blows they had received. 
 Many tears were shed. The rest of the day 
 passed sadly. Gerald himself was not happy ; 
 though, from a sort of false shame, almost 
 incomprehensible in a child of his age, he 
 pretended to be so. 
 
 The farmer and his wife took their de- 
 parture from the Hall under the sad convic- 
 tion that Gerald was an unfeeling child, and 
 that he had never really cared for them. Sir 
 Hubert could not help being of the same 
 opinion, and was painfully affected. He in- 
 vited the Westfields to repeat their visit, 
 but they firmly declined.
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 22 1 
 
 Gerald had scarcely been home more 
 than a week before his nature began to ex- 
 hibit itself by marked signs. He was wilful 
 and blusterous, exacting and imperious. He 
 expected every one to give way to him, to 
 indulge him in every caprice. He feared no 
 one, not even the Baronet himself; and it 
 was as much as Sir Hubert could do, short 
 of applying actual coercion, to insure obe- 
 dience to his commands. 
 
 At the same time it was evident that 
 the boy possessed an active and imaginative 
 mind. He understood easily, and anything 
 he once comprehended was for ever after 
 engraven upon his memory. In all exer- 
 cises of bodily strength and address he pro- 
 mised to excel; for under an apparent deli- 
 cacy of structure was hidden great muscular 
 vigour. 
 
 To sum up all, there was plainly com- 
 bined in him both good and evil. It would 
 be the work of education to destroy his bad 
 qualities and develop his good ones. This
 
 222 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 difficult task Sir Hubert undertook, and 
 constituted himself his son's preceptor. 
 
 He endeavoured to open the boy's heart 
 to the divine precepts of virtue, and his in- 
 telligence to the great lessons of science. At 
 the same time, as relaxations from more 
 serious studies, he put into his hand a rid- 
 ing-whip or a fencing-foil ; he made him an 
 excellent horseman and a tolerably good 
 shot. Finally, and as a crowning recom- 
 pense for his industry, he would take him 
 to join in the county hunt, in which pur- 
 suit the young horseman soon gave proofs 
 of singular address. 
 
 In the midst of these pursuits and plea- 
 sures, Marguerite's son grew apace. He had 
 reached his twelfth year, and body and mind 
 had been developed as completely as the 
 Baronet could have hoped to find them. 
 He had reached a period when. Sir Hubert 
 thought, he required a more competent 
 teacher to carry on his education. With 
 this idea, a clergyman of approved reputa.
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 223 
 
 tion was engaged, and installed in the house 
 under the title of Gerald's governor. 
 
 Under the able direction of this mas- 
 ter a new transformation appeared to take 
 place in the character and habits of the 
 pupil. 
 
 Work, which up to that time had never 
 been anything but a duty with him, seemed 
 to become a positive pleasure. It appeared 
 more than probable that Gerald would grow 
 up to be in every respect a remarkable man ; 
 that he would worthily bear the name of 
 Dalbright, and make a noble use of the for- 
 tune he would one day inherit. 
 
 But, to overthrow all these hopes, little 
 was wanted. A few books furtively read; 
 nothing more. 
 
 Gerald was fifteen. He and his governor 
 had made the library of Dalbright Hall their 
 place of study, and this library was furnished 
 with books, classical and modern, of a cha- 
 racter fatally dangerous to a mind and tem- 
 perament like those of Marguerite's son. In
 
 224 TWO WOELDS OF EASHION. 
 
 an evil hour he had made discovery of their 
 presence. 
 
 He kept the fact as much a secret from 
 his governor as from Sir Hubert. 
 
 And soon a great and lamentable change 
 had been effected in him, though it was un- 
 recognised. His heart, if not his soul, was 
 poisoned. 
 
 By the time he was eighteen, his name 
 was associated with more than one rustic 
 scandal, to the shame and grief of Sir Hu- 
 bert, who took the only course which seemed 
 to promise him security against the occur- 
 rence of some possibly greater distress of a 
 like kind. 
 
 Gerald was only too happy to get away 
 from the surveillance of his father, and in 
 company mth a confidential servant, and 
 furnished with money and letters-of-credit 
 on half-a-dozen bankers, he set out joyously 
 to make the tour of Europe. 
 
 Three years passed. Gerald wrote home 
 regularly, and his letters were the only
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 225 
 
 pleasure and distraction that visited Sir 
 Hubert in the solitude of his house, into 
 which he had once more retreated, in com- 
 pany with the ever-living remembrance of 
 his lost Marguerite. 
 
 One day a letter, addressed from Milan, 
 arrived from Gerald, announcing his inten- 
 tion of passing the winter in Florence, where 
 he was to arrive on the following month. 
 The letter contained a request that orders 
 on a banker of the last-named city might be 
 sent to him in anticipation of his arrival. 
 
 Instead of receiving an answer from Sir 
 Hubert, he found a letter addressed to him 
 by his father's steward, informing him that 
 the Baronet had fallen dangerously ill, that 
 the doctors in attendance found the case all 
 but hopeless, and finally urged him to re- 
 turn home without a moment's delay. 
 
 Fiery and unrestrained passions had 
 dried and corrupted the young man's heart ; 
 but he ^vas not wholly without love for a 
 father so excellent as the Baronet had 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 TWO WORLDS OF FASIIIOX. 
 
 proved himself to be. An hour after the 
 receipt of the steward's letter, Gerald was 
 on his way home, as fast as railways and 
 steamers could carry him. 
 
 But vainly he attached the wings of his 
 impatience to the vehicles that were bear- 
 ing him along ; he reached home too late. 
 The son of Marguerite was not permitted 
 to close the eyes of Sir Hubert Dalbright. 
 The adoring and noble-hearted husband 
 had rejoined his lost wife ; his mortal re- 
 mains were already laid in the grave. 
 
 For the moment Gerald was somewhat 
 cast down by this hardly-foreseen catas- 
 trophe. He went to the churchyard. Tears 
 flowed from his eyes — tears of sincere sor- 
 row — as he stood beside the newly-closed 
 tomb, and thought of all the dead man's 
 goodness lost to him henceforth. 
 
 But these impressions were as short- 
 lived as they were acute. Distractions 
 quickly came to efface them from his fa- 
 tally-unstable mind.
 
 THE COWL TO THE MONK. 227 
 
 He speedily became engrossed in the 
 details of the handsome fortune of which 
 he was now the master. He found himself 
 possessed of a clear ^Ye thousand a year ; 
 and with a disposition such as his, his worst 
 enemy could hardly have invented for him 
 a greater misfortune than to endow his 
 youth and inexperience with such terrible 
 facilities for evil-doing. 
 
 As may easily be imagined, however, 
 he took an entirely diiFerent view of his 
 position. Visions of a life of unrestricted 
 pleasure opened out before him. By the 
 exercise of a strong effort of the will, he 
 restrained his impatience for a certain time 
 — that is to say, for about half the cus- 
 tomary period of mourning — before setting 
 out on the way of life he had determined to 
 pursue.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ENTERIXG ON THE DOWNWAED PATE. 
 
 It was his ill-fortune, at one of the German 
 watering-places, to have fallen into the so- 
 ciety of the man of all men most capable of 
 exercising a strong and injurious influence 
 upon his already evilly - disposed mind. 
 This man was the Chevalier de Yilliers, 
 whose mission it appeared to be to spend 
 the latter days of his flagitious life in cor- 
 rupting, or in helping to corrupt, the souls 
 of young men of Gerald's age and class. 
 
 He was the same wicked old man whom 
 we have seen only too successfully exercis- 
 ing his devilish craft upon Lord Carleon ; 
 but he was three-and-twenty years older 
 and more wicked when, on his way to 
 London, Gerald paid him a flying visit at
 
 ENTERING ON THE DOWNWARD PATH. 229 
 
 Bath, where the old roue was vegetating, 
 as he called it, on the small means re- 
 maining to him out of the fortune he had 
 squandered in his earlier years of reckless 
 libertinage. 
 
 ' Thousand times glad to see you, my 
 dear boy !' he cried, the moment Gerald 
 was ushered into his presence. ' I won- 
 dered whether, amid the hailstorm of good- 
 fortune that has been descending of late 
 upon your thrice-favoured head, you might 
 not forget your old friends — one of your 
 very old friends especially.' 
 
 ' You see how ill you have judged me, 
 Chevalier,' replied Gerald. 
 
 ' We'll admit the fact with pleasure on 
 both sides, and then pass on to the pleasant 
 results of it. You are come to Bath, how- 
 ever, for something more than to see how 
 much older I've grown in the course of the 
 last two years, eh, mon enfant'^ Take my 
 word for it, we do grow old at a devil of a 
 rate after reaching a certain point in life.
 
 230 TWO WORLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 Live as mucli and as long as you can, 
 therefore, before reaching the abominable 
 point in question, is the best advice an old 
 fellow at the execrable end of life can 
 give to a young fellow at the joyous begin- 
 ning of it.' 
 
 Gerald told him that he was then on his 
 way to London, for the express purpose of 
 commencino' the sort of life of which the 
 Chevalier was a master-spirit. 
 
 ^ 0,' cried the old man, ' compliments ! 
 Keep 'em, my son — keep 'em for pretty 
 women — the least pretty especially ; they're 
 wasted on me. And when you get to Lon- 
 don, what are you going to do?' 
 
 'Cannot you come to London? then I 
 should be in no doubt,' replied Gerald. 
 
 The Chevalier shook his head. 
 
 ' Impossible,' he said ; ' too much white 
 on my head, too little yellow in my purse. 
 London's twenty years too young for me; 
 but for you, it's the j)lace of places — not 
 forgetting dear, damned, delightful Paris
 
 ENTERING ON THE DOWNWARD PATH. 231 
 
 when I say so. But, once more — when you 
 get to London, w^iat are you going to do 
 there?' 
 
 ' Anything, everything — live !' 
 
 ' Bravo ! lives the word ! Do you know 
 many people in London?' 
 
 ' Only a few families, who from time to 
 time paid my late father a visit.' 
 
 ' Grave people ?' 
 
 'Very.' 
 
 ' Tiresome to the very limits of endu- 
 rance ?' 
 
 ' I'm afraid so.' 
 
 'You need not be in any doubt, my 
 dear boy; they are. The world is full of 
 such people, and the days of plagues are 
 gone by, so that they increase and multiply, 
 confound 'em, at their ease ; and you can't 
 too early learn to avoid 'em as carefully as 
 if they were "good" books or badly-cooked 
 dinners. As you won't associate with these 
 people, with whom will you make acquaint- 
 ance ?'
 
 232 TWO WORLDS OE FASHION. 
 
 ' I really liave not thought on the 
 subject.' 
 
 ' That means, you'll trust to making 
 chance acquaintances ?' 
 
 ' Most likely; 
 
 The Chevalier laughed a silent laugh, 
 and his eyes twinkled, as if all the wicked 
 knowledge of his life were set fermenting in 
 his mind, and thus outwardly expressed 
 itself. 
 
 ' My dear boy,' he cried, ' in great cities, 
 when a young man of your stamp permits 
 himself to make chance acquaintances, the 
 odds are twenty to one that he falls into 
 the clutches of knaves who will rob him, or 
 of adventurers who will soil him by their 
 contact, and compromise his name and 
 person.' 
 
 ' You alarm me. Chevalier I' cried Gerald. 
 
 ' I'm very glad you came to me, mon 
 cliei\ before setting foot in that city of 
 mixed delight and rascality.' Then, after a 
 slight pause, he added : ' I think I may be
 
 ENTERING ON THE DOWNWARD PATH. 233 
 
 able to pass you forward into good and safe 
 keeping. I'll give you a letter of recom- 
 mendation to an old friend of mine, who 
 will set you in the right path.' 
 
 ' Is he a contemporary of yours, Cheva- 
 lier ?' asked Gerald, with a slightly doubtful 
 accent. 
 
 '0 no,' replied the old man smiling; 
 ' Lord Carleon is young enough to be my — 
 not being a woman, I confess it freely — my 
 grandson. If my memory serves me, he is 
 but five-and-forty at the most.' 
 
 ' Lord Carleon !' Gerald repeated to 
 himself; but the name was entirely strange 
 to him. He had never before heard of it. 
 ' Lord Carleon is a thorough man of fashion, 
 I may presume ?' he asked. 
 
 ' He moves in the very best circles, both 
 in London and Paris,' replied the Chevalier; 
 'and if, for old acquaintance' sake, he will 
 undertake what I shall ask of him on your 
 behalf, there is no one who can do so much 
 towards putting you in the way you want
 
 234 TWO WORLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 to go. Carleon is one of the kings of 
 society.' 
 
 ' He must be very rich,' observed Gerald. 
 
 ' I doubt if his income exceeds two 
 thousand a year,' replied the Chevalier; 
 'but,' he added, 'he possesses something 
 that is of more vakie in society than money 
 — he knows how to live.' 
 
 ' I cannot sufficiently express my obli- 
 gations to you for introducing me to such 
 a man.' 
 
 ' Call upon me in a couple of hours 
 from this time, and the letter shall be ready 
 for you, my dear boy. At the same time 
 we will drink together a stirrup-cup of a 
 certain vintage of claret not to be profanely 
 talked of, since its like may never revisit 
 this side of the earth, which the sun of late 
 has seemed to me to neglect abominably.' 
 
 At the time appointed Gerald returned ; 
 and after spending a few hours carousing 
 with his dangerous friend, received the 
 promised letter of introduction, and took
 
 ENTEKING ON THE DOWNWARD PATH. 235 
 
 his leave, engaging iiimself to write fre- 
 quently to the Chevalier, and give him a 
 full account of his proceedings in London. 
 
 The letter with which the Chevalier had 
 furnished his protege was addressed — 
 
 'Lord Carleon, Bolton-street, Picca- 
 dilly, W.' 
 
 Its contents were as follows : 
 
 ' My DEAR Lord Carleon, — If you 
 have preserved any sympathy for an old — 
 detestably old — ^friend, you will, with that 
 obliging kindness which used to be habitual 
 with you, permit me to introduce to you 
 the bearer of this letter. Sir Gerald Dal- 
 bright, a young gentleman for whom I am 
 happy to profess the most sincere and lively 
 affection. 
 
 ' Allow me, my dear Lord Carleon, to 
 beg for him the doubly great advantage of 
 your friendly countenance and of the pre- 
 cious counsels of your experience. 
 
 ' I wish it were permitted me to have
 
 236 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 the happiness of placing his hand in yours ; 
 it would give me the greatest possible 
 satisfaction to see two such hands restmg 
 cordially in each other. Unfortunately, I 
 am chained-up in this provincial kennel, 
 where I expect to end my days as dully as 
 any other toothless old hound. But since 
 I cannot in person present to you my young 
 friend — and, shall I say it, pupil? — allow 
 me to introduce him from a distance just as 
 I would, if I could be present. This will 
 spare us both — me the trouble of writing, 
 and you the trouble of reading — a long 
 statement of who my young friend is and 
 what I venture to ask of you on his ac- 
 count. 
 
 ' In the first place, look at him, I beg. 
 To my eyes he appears as handsome and 
 alluring as the mischievous god whom the 
 charming ancients so happily named Cupid; 
 and I am ready to be sworn on my Anacreon 
 that, old as I am, I am not yet so blind as 
 Justice. He is nearly two-and-twenty. His
 
 ENTERING ON THE DOWNWARD PATH. ZoY 
 
 father, Sir Hubert Dalbright, of Dalbright 
 Hall, Somersetshire, died six months ago 
 and left him five thousand a year. As to 
 externals, you have now, I imagine, as much 
 as you will care to be told of Sir Gerald 
 Dalbrio'ht. 
 
 ' As to his mind, disposition, tastes — he 
 is anything but a fool, as young men go. 
 For the rest, I have done my best to fit 
 him to enjoy the advantages which youth, 
 beauty, and fortune have placed at his dis- 
 posal. He desires to live ; you, my noblest 
 pupil — if I may still call the honour mine 
 of having guided your youthful steps along 
 the brightest paths of the world of Pleasure 
 — will teach him Jioiu. 
 
 'His education as a man of the world 
 is but just begun; watched over and di- 
 rected by your mature judgment, it will be 
 rapidly completed. You, better than any 
 other man I ever knew, can throw open to 
 him the portals of the double world in 
 which you reign — the blazoned world of
 
 238 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 the haute noblesse^ the ' rose-deckecl world of 
 gallantry. 
 
 ' Take my neophyte by the hand, and 
 make ofhhn, I pray of you, an accomplished 
 gentleman, worthy of the best drawing- 
 rooms and the most exclusive boudoirs. 
 
 ^ Finally, forgive me, my dear Lord Car- 
 leon, for inflicting on you this long epistle ; 
 allow me to thank you in advance for the 
 complete success of my request; and suffer 
 me to call myself ever and always your old 
 friend, 
 
 ' Le Chevalier Philippe de Yilliers.' 
 
 Gerald, who had received this long let- 
 ter unsealed, took the opportunity offered 
 by his journey to read it, and smiled com- 
 placently at the pompous eulogiums which 
 the old man had been pleased to pass on 
 him. With such a letter of introduction 
 he could not for a moment doubt the kind 
 of reception which awaited him from Lord 
 Carleon.
 
 ENTERING ON THE DOWNWARD RATH. 239 
 
 Arrived at the end of his railway jour- 
 ney he got into a cab, and directed the 
 driver to take him to the Palace Hotel. 
 
 ' To-morrow morning,' he said to him- 
 self, ' I will call upon Lord Carleon and 
 deliver the old Chevalier's letter.' 
 
 END OF BOOK I.
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A CHOICE BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 LoKD Carleon was not yet down when, 
 early on the morning after his arrival in 
 London, Gerald hastened to Bolton-street, 
 and presented his letter of introduction. 
 The Swiss valet, who answered him in al- 
 most faultless English, informed him that 
 Lord Carleon was rarely visible before one 
 o'clock ; and Gerald begged him to tell his 
 master that at that hour the bearer of the 
 letter (which he left) would do himself the 
 honour to wait upon his lordship. 
 
 At the hour named he returned, and 
 was instantly shown to the drawing-room, 
 where, at the end of a few moments, he was 
 joined by Lord Carleon. 
 
 But before the appearance of the master
 
 244 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 of the house, Gerald had time to remark 
 the refined and exquisitely luxurious taste 
 which had presided over the furniture of 
 the room. The hangings of the windows 
 were of brown velvet, and subdued the 
 morning light, so that on Lord Carleon's 
 entry into the room his visitor could not 
 very plainly distinguish his lordship's fea- 
 tures. 
 
 Lord Carleon extended his hand as he 
 advanced towards Gerald, saying 'as he did 
 so : 
 
 ' I am most happy to have the pleasure 
 of making your acquaintance, Sir Gerald 
 Dalbright, — to add your name to the limited 
 list of my dearest friends, I hope.' 
 
 ' Such a title would be most precious to 
 me, if you did me the honour to confer it 
 on me,' replied Gerald; ' it is almost more 
 than I dared to hope for, even from the 
 only too flattering introduction of my ex- 
 cellent friend, the Chevalier de Yilliers.' 
 
 ' That reminds me that I have not yet
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 245 
 
 entirely read my old friend's lengthy letter. 
 May I treat you with the freedom of a 
 Iriend of long standing — that is to say, 
 without formality — and finish my reading 
 at once?' 
 
 Gerald beofo^ed of him the honour of be- 
 ing treated wholly without ceremony, and 
 Lord Carleon crossed to the window, the 
 hangings of which he drew aside, thus 
 placing himself in a full light while he 
 stood reading the Chevalier's letter. 
 
 Until that moment Gerald had not dis- 
 tinctly seen the features of his new friend, 
 and took this opportunity to study a face in 
 the lineaments of which he easily deciphered 
 the signs of a vigorous moral and intellect- 
 ual character — of a character certain to 
 impress whoever was brought within the 
 sphere of its influence. 
 
 As soon as he had finished reading the 
 letter. Lord Carleon placed it in his pocket, 
 and turned to Gerald, whose face for the 
 first time he had been able to distinguish
 
 246 TWO WORLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 clearly. The impression made upon him 
 by the sight of the young man's features 
 was almost overwhelming. He opened his 
 mouth as if to speak, but his trembling lips 
 refused to articulate a single word. A sort 
 of bewilderment appeared to have seized 
 upon his faculties. 
 
 He had become in an instant deadly 
 pale, and would have fallen, had not Gerald 
 sprung to his assistance and supported him 
 to a sofa. His feebleness lasted but for a 
 moment, and little by little the colour re- 
 turned to his face. His looks became more 
 calm, but remained fixed upon Gerald's 
 countenance with a strange and intense 
 persistency. 
 
 ' It is nothing — really nothing,' he said, 
 in reply to his visitor's anxious inquiry on 
 the subject of this sudden attack. 
 
 ' I sincerely hope that nothing in my 
 appearance has displeased you,' replied 
 Gerald ; ' yet your lordship seemed to find 
 in my face — '
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 247 
 
 ' Nothing, I assure you, but a wonderful 
 resemblance between you and a person who 
 is no more ; a resemblance that awakens in 
 my mind a crowd of painful remembrances, 
 regrets, and even remorse. Forgive me for 
 not having been able to exercise a greater 
 control over my feelings.' 
 
 He rose and paced the room for a few 
 seconds, murmuring to himself, 
 
 ' What have I not done to drive away 
 this bitter thought ? 1 had almost succeeded, 
 and now comes this haunting recollection 
 in a living form to stand before me face to 
 face !' 
 
 Lord Carleon sunk down upon a chair. 
 He had forgotten the presence of his visitor, 
 and had hidden his face in his hands. 
 
 Gerald saw that his visit at such a mo- 
 ment was completely inopportune. 
 
 ' You are still unwell, my lord,' he said; 
 ' pray allow me to take my leave.' 
 
 At the sound of the young man's voice. 
 Lord Carleon started and rose to his feet.
 
 248 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 extending his hand, and saying in a tone of 
 almost paternal afFectionateness, 
 
 ' Do not hasten your departure, I beg. 
 I assure you I am quite well enough to con- 
 tinue our conversation.' He led Gerald to 
 the window and placed him in the full light, 
 as a painter might have posed a model; and 
 after contemj^lating his features for some 
 time, added, ' The Chevalier was right, Ger- 
 ald; you are very handsome.' In a lower 
 tone he murmured, ' As handsome as the 
 son of Marguerite might be!' 
 
 ' And so you have brought your youth 
 and fortune to London, to try for how 
 much of pleasure you can barter them?' in- 
 quired Lord Carleon after a few moments' 
 silence, and with a sort of half-smile upon 
 his lips. 
 
 ' Yes,' replied Gerald ; ' I have asked 
 myself what is the most desirable end of 
 life; and the voice of my nature has ans- 
 wered in one word of delightful j)romise — 
 Pleasure !'
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 249 
 
 ' And Monsieur de Yilliers has told you 
 that no one better than myself can guide 
 your early steps upon what FalstaiF calls 
 the "primrose path"?' said Lord Carleon. 
 ' Well, I can, as the Chevalier has told you, 
 open to you the doors of the most exclusive 
 and refined drawing-rooms and the most 
 charming boudoirs ; I can, on the other 
 hand, introduce you into the heart — let me 
 rather say into the midst — of that elegant 
 and \icious world which receives no recog- 
 nition, but which yet makes itself seen and 
 felt in every circumstance and interest of 
 fashionable life.' 
 
 Lord Carleon looked at the face of his 
 protege for a moment intently. 
 
 ' By which of these two ways will you 
 make your entrance into our London so- 
 ciety ?' 
 
 ' By the latter,' replied Gerald unhesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 ^ I had no doubt that would be your
 
 250 TWO WORLDS OF FASHIOX. 
 
 answer,' said Lord Carleon, a faint shadow 
 passing over his brow. 
 
 ' Do you blame me ?' inquired Gerald. 
 
 ' Xot at all. Why should I? You but 
 propose to do -that which I have done, and 
 am still doing. What right can I have to 
 blame you?' 
 
 Gerald failed to observe the tone of bit- 
 terness with which these sentences were 
 spoken. 
 
 ' The one point settled,' continued Lord 
 Carleon, ' let us proceed to the settlement 
 of another even more necessary to be taken 
 into account. The Chevalier tells me that 
 you have five thousand a year.' 
 
 ' Very little, I fear, to live on hand- 
 somely in London,' said Gerald. 
 
 ' I have but two thousand,' replied Lord 
 Carleon, ' and yet I am considered to live 
 in luxury. If you follow my advice, you 
 will have quite enough to enable you to 
 shine in the front rank of society. You 
 have a country house?'
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 251 
 
 ' Yes ; a, fine old place, with preserves 
 full of game. But I detest the country, and 
 shall live wholly in town.' 
 
 ' You'll find that a mistake. No, no. 
 Every autumn, in the shooting-season, you 
 will invite down to your place half-a-dozen 
 friends, a few pretty women, and a good 
 cook ; and you'll discover that the country 
 is by no means so detestable as you now 
 think it.' 
 
 Gerald confessed that the prospect was 
 highly promising, on the contrary. 
 
 Under the advice of Lord Carleon, all the 
 details of his method of living were settled 
 — the hiring of a small house in Mayfair, its 
 furnishing, the adequate number of servants 
 and horses requisite for his use and comfort. 
 
 All these matters arranged, the friends 
 parted, to meet again at dinner at one of 
 Lord Carleon's clubs. Dinner over, they 
 went to the theatre, and afterwards to 
 supper at the house of a lady bearing the 
 grandiose title of the Principessa di Volani.
 
 252 TWO WORLDS OE TASHION. 
 
 ' This lady's title is nothing more than 
 a nom de guerre^ I take it for granted/ said 
 Gerald, as he and Lord Carleon were being 
 driven, about one o'clock in the morning, 
 in the direction of Regent's-park. 
 
 ' I'd strongly advise you to take nothing 
 for granted, except the prettiness of the 
 Avomen you are going to meet in the Prin- 
 cess's drawing-room; that is expected of 
 you as a matter of politeness, and you'll 
 find it save you from otherwise inevitable 
 disappointment.' 
 
 ' But you repeat that she is a princess ?' 
 
 ' Enormously — but of the left hand ; a 
 fact which, as it more immediately aiFects 
 her than any one else, she, of course, regrets 
 more than anybody.' 
 
 'And— the Prince?' 
 
 'A most indisputable entity, who has 
 long been famous in the world of diplo- 
 macy.' 
 
 ' Why, then, he must be — anything but 
 
 a 
 
 young man r 
 
 9'
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 253 
 
 ' As you say, anything but a young 
 man; considerably older now than he was 
 even twenty years ago, when he first be- 
 came the recognised protector of the Prin- 
 cipessa.' 
 
 * Twenty years ago!' cried Gerald in 
 astonishment ; ' then the Princess herself 
 must be — ' 
 
 ^You'll say so when you see her — a 
 charming woman; thirty at most when she 
 is full dressed, and you are never likely to 
 see her otherwise. The men who go to her 
 parties never think of asking her age, nor 
 try to remember the number of pretty 
 women they have had the pleasure of meet- 
 ing at her house — and none but very pretty 
 women are ever to be met there.' 
 
 ^ She is rich, I suppose ?' 
 
 ^ That I really cannot tell you anything 
 about. But it is tolerably well known that 
 she somehow contrives to spend a great 
 deal of money.'
 
 254 TWO WOKLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' Shall we see the Prince at her house 
 this evening?' 
 
 ' Certainly not. He is away with his 
 embassy at one of the great courts.' 
 
 ' And he does not object to the Princess 
 amusing herself in this way during his ab- 
 sence?' 
 
 'Apparently not, since she has always 
 done so.' 
 
 ' He's not jealous, then?' 
 
 ' Not if he is so wise as some people de- 
 clare him to be. By the way, the charming 
 Princess has about her a young person 
 whom she calls her niece, but whom I 
 strongly suspect of being bound to her by 
 much closer ties. The Princess is always 
 on the look-out for her pretty niece ; be on 
 your guard accordingly.' 
 
 By the time the conversation had 
 reached this point, they had arrived at the 
 house of the Principessa di Yolani, on the 
 north-western side of Regent's-park, and
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 255 
 
 found a number of brougliams drawn-up on 
 either side of the road. 
 
 The door was opened by one of three 
 powdered footmen, whom they found in the 
 hall, dressed in sumptuous livery. One of 
 them stepped forward with respectful ala- 
 crity, and inquired : 
 
 ' Shall I announce your lordship ?' 
 ' Xot necessary, Thomas,' replied Lord 
 Carleon carelessly ; ' we will announce our- 
 selves. Are there many people here to- 
 night?' 
 
 ' About the usual number, my lord ; her 
 highness's ordinary visitors.' 
 
 ' They have not yet sat down to supper?' 
 " Xo, my lord ; they're still dancing.' 
 ^ Yery good. AVe'll go in through the 
 boudoir, so as not to derange the dancers.' 
 
 They passed upstairs, and Thomas 
 opened a door and admitted them into a 
 splendidly - furnished drawing - room, used 
 only on extraordinary occasions. A small 
 door, hidden by draperies, opened out of
 
 256 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 this room into a charming boudoir, hung 
 with amber-coloured silk covered with white 
 lace-work. Xobody was in this room; but 
 through an open door, on the side opposite 
 to that by which they had entered, they 
 heard the melody of a waltz played upon a 
 piano. 
 
 Lord Carleon and Gerald passed quietly 
 into a second drawing-room whence the 
 sounds proceeded, and found themselves 
 forming part of a company consisting of 
 some fifteen to twenty men and about a 
 dozen elegantly-dressed women, and in an 
 atmosphere of careless gaiety. 
 
 A young man was seated at the piano, 
 two or three couples were waltzing, the rest 
 were laughing and chatting. 
 
 The moment Lord Carleon and Gerald 
 set foot within the door of the drawing- 
 room, their entrance was observed by a tall 
 and handsome woman, who crossed the 
 room to meet them. It was the mistress of 
 the house, the Principessa di Yolani.
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 257 
 
 Her face was pale, of a uniform opaque 
 whiteness, but never expressed fatigue ex- 
 cept in the morning; at night, the play of 
 well-disposed light, aided by an impercept- 
 ible quantity of rouge skilfully laid on, gave 
 to it a wonderfully brilliant appearance. 
 
 Brown and shining, her hair was mag- 
 nificent in its abundance — only it suggested 
 a query as to whether it was absolutely all 
 her own. Some of her women friends 
 afi'ected to doubt — rivals probably. Two 
 persons, the Princess's hairdresser and the 
 Princess's lady's-maid, could have set such 
 doubts at rest in a moment ; but they were 
 never consulted, and both preserved the 
 discreetest silence. 
 
 The Princess had large black eyes and 
 rose-red lips ; perhaps the lips may have 
 owed something to cosmetic aid, but the 
 eyes had at once the brightness of the dia- 
 mond and the softness of velvet, and could 
 hardly be suspected of artificial embellish- 
 ment. 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 She was tall and plump. Her white 
 shoulders and her round arms were those 
 of a piece of Greek sculpture — beyond cri- 
 ticism. But her feet were too large, her 
 white hands were under-bred. The ultra- 
 plebeian origin of the Principessa di Yolani 
 was, in fact, only too plainly betrayed by 
 the character of these extremities. 
 
 Moreover, there were people living who, 
 had they seen the Principessa di Yolani out 
 of her diamonds, might immediately have 
 recognised in her the daughter of a tippling 
 laundress attached to one of the inns of 
 law, and addressed her familiarly as ' Carry 
 Baker.' 
 
 This evening she was dressed to appear 
 at her very best. Her low-cut bodice ex- 
 hibited completely her handsome shoulders 
 and half her bosom. On the side of her 
 head, in the midst of the heavy mass of her 
 dark hair, she had placed a rose of deep 
 colour, giving to her face an expression 
 both original and provocative of admira-
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 259 
 
 tion. Another rose, of the same hue, was 
 placed at the top of her corsage as a foil to 
 the pale whiteness of the flesh upon which 
 it rested. 
 
 ' The Principessa,' whispered Lord Car- 
 leon to Gerald, as the lady came across the 
 room. 'Good-evening, my dear Olympia,' 
 he added aloud, shaking the hand of the 
 Princess. 
 
 'Good-evening, my dear Carleon,' she 
 replied, her gaze all the time inquiringly 
 fixed upon Gerald. ' You are late this 
 evening.' 
 
 ' Allow me to present to you a friend of 
 mine,' said Lord Carleon, by way of answer. 
 'Sir Gerald Dalbright — good-looking as a 
 son of the Indian Bacchus, as your own 
 eyes will tell you at a glance; rich as the 
 heir of the finance agent-in-chief of his late 
 majesty Croesus of Lydia and of auriferous 
 memory. You'll not think the worse of him 
 for being rich, I'm sure.' 
 
 Gerald bowed.
 
 260 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' Upon my word, Sir Gerald, you must 
 have been born under two lucky stars !' cried 
 the Princess, laughing. 
 
 Gerald would have replied, but three or 
 four young women, who were standing in a 
 knot at the farther end of the room, and 
 who had never taken their eyes off him 
 from the moment he entered, called the 
 Princess to them. Before going, however, 
 she whispered in Lord Carleon's ear, 
 
 ' He's delightful ! Is he really so rich as 
 you pretend?' 
 
 'Five thousand a year,' replied Lord Car- 
 leon in the same low tone. 
 
 ' On your word of honour ?' 
 
 ' Absolutely.' 
 
 She hastened across the room, and was 
 immediately subjected to a close question- 
 ing by the young women who had called 
 her. 
 
 ' What did she say to you ?' asked Ge- 
 rald. 
 
 ^ She asked me, on my word of honour,
 
 BETWEEN TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 261 
 
 whether you are really rich. I told her you 
 are^ and she is now repeating the glad tid- 
 ings to the charming bevy of beauties by 
 whom she is surrounded. Look out ; you'll 
 be attacked instanter.' 
 
 ^ Trust me,' cried Gerald, with a smile ; 
 ' I shall make a truly heroic defence !'
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 SUPPER AT THE PRINCIPESSA^S. 
 
 To the waltz succeeded a country dance, in 
 which, excepting Lord Carleon, Gerald, an 
 ex-cabinet minister, and a gentleman high 
 at the Bar, who was at the moment the vic- 
 tim of rheumatism in his left leg, all the 
 company joined. 
 
 ' My dear Lord Carleon, pray oblige me 
 by commencing my education ; strip off the 
 masks /rom the people I see here, and tell 
 me who they are.' 
 
 ' The men or the women ?' 
 
 ' The women first. They interest me in- 
 finitely more.' 
 
 ' AVell, question me.' 
 
 Gerald fixed his eyes on an apparently-
 
 SUPPER AT THE PRINCIPESSA'S. 263 
 
 young girl, with large dreamy dark eyes 
 and magnificent hair. 
 
 'Who is that charming-looking girl in 
 the rose-coloured silk dress?' 
 
 Instead of answering the question, Lord 
 Carleon started, and burst into an irrepres- 
 sible fit of laughter. 
 
 ' My dear fellow,' he said at length, ' what 
 delight your first visit to the Opera will give 
 you!' 
 
 ' Why ?.' asked Gerald hesitatingly. 
 
 ' Because you will believe in everything 
 you see ; you will take painted trees for real 
 timber and leaves, canvas cottages for verit- 
 able pieces of rural architecture; and, above 
 all, you will believe that the figurantes in the 
 ballet are the Arcadian innocents they appear 
 to be, and nothing else under the sun.' 
 
 Gerald blushed crimson. 
 
 ' That charming-looking girl in the rose- 
 coloured silk dress is not a girl at all. Her 
 complexion — so fresh and pure — is bought 
 by the ounce ; her beautifully-arched eye-
 
 264 TWO WORLDS OE rASHION. 
 
 brows are painted by herself with practised 
 skill ; her hair is, charitably speakings three- 
 parts of it false.' 
 
 ' Is it possible/ cried Gerald, ' I could 
 have been so easily deceived?' 
 
 'More easily,' said Lord Carleon, smil- 
 ing somewhat sadly. ' However,' he added, 
 'there is something still more deceptive 
 about Vivienne than the composition of her 
 complexion. She comes of noble lineage.' 
 
 ' In the same manner as the Princess ?' 
 
 ' Not at all ; and she herself knows how 
 to make the most out of her exceptional — 
 in this case I may truly say — advantages. 
 Before she was three - and - twenty she was 
 divorced and discarded by her relatives. 
 She had not a penny in the world of her 
 own; she has not spent less than five thou- 
 sand a year from that time till now ; and I 
 daresay she is not much more deeply in 
 debt than many of her betters.' 
 
 ' And that woman with the Oriental 
 eyes ?'
 
 SUPPER AT THE PRINCIPESSA's. 265 
 
 ' Camilla — an actress some call her — not 
 the critics.' 
 
 ' Does she still belong to the stage ?' 
 
 ' No ; she only used the stage as an ef- 
 fective mode of advertising her beauty. A 
 few years back she made so great a hit as 
 Lady Godiva, that her adorers carried her 
 off from the theatre, and never again per- 
 mitted her to repeat her captivating per- 
 formance in public' 
 
 ' My dear Lord Garleon^ your portraits 
 are not extremely flattering,' said Gerald, 
 smiling. 
 
 ' They are something less common/ re- 
 plied Lord Carleon ; ' they are extremely 
 truthful ; and it is clearly not my fault if the 
 truth in their case happens to be a little 
 unflattering.' 
 
 ' What would the ladies themselves say 
 if they heard you?' 
 
 'They would accuse my gallantry, but 
 not my frankness. They all of them know 
 that I say of them just what I think; and,
 
 266 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 in spite of that, I assure you they are one 
 and all very fond of me.' 
 
 ' It's because they know themselves to 
 be better than you describe them to be.' 
 
 ^No; it's because they are too cynical 
 to care in the smallest degree for anybody's 
 opinion of them.' 
 
 For a moment or two they lapsed into 
 silence ; but presently Gerald touched Lord 
 Carleon's elbow, and whispered in his ear, 
 
 'Look yonder — by the piano — at the 
 young woman turning over the music' 
 
 ' She pleases you ?' inquired Lord Car- 
 leon, smiling at the other's earnest manner. 
 
 'Yery greatly, I own,' replied Gerald. 
 ' Are you going to tell me something bad 
 of her also ?' 
 
 ^ Perhaps.' 
 
 'But do you know that by doing this 
 you will be horribly disenchanting me?' 
 
 'What then?' 
 
 ' Well, laugh at me as much as you like ; 
 but it seems to me that there is about this
 
 SUPPER AT THE PRINCIPESSA's. 267 
 
 woman an atmosphere more luminous, more 
 pure — that there is something chaste in her 
 fair head, in her blue and almost timid eyes. 
 Assuredly with those three bunches of vio- 
 lets — one in her hair, one in her bosom, and 
 the other carried in her little hand — she has 
 the air of a young duchess ; and if, on leav- 
 ing this house, I never see her again, her 
 face will remain engraven on my memory 
 as that of a fairy or an angel.' 
 
 'Your juvenile enthusiasm is beyond 
 question amusing, my dear Gerald, as you 
 yourself will before long discover ; but it 
 is quite pardonable in this instance. The 
 woman Avho has so strongly interested you 
 is superior — very superior — to most of her 
 companions. She has been for the last ten 
 years one of our chief actresses in comedy. 
 She is known as Miss Florestan, and she is 
 an immense favourite with the public; and 
 for the pubHc she has always shown the 
 most perfect respect. Her extravagance is 
 boundless. No doubt, if she could have
 
 268 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 her way, she would, like Cleopatra, break- 
 fast off a dissolved pearl ; but she has never 
 lost her own self-respect — never permitted 
 herself to be drawn into the vortex of vul- 
 gar vice. You yourself have remarked that 
 she has the air of a duchess. She has loved 
 often, and loved deeply — really loved : it is 
 for this that, I own, I feel indulgent towards 
 her, and adjnit her to be a true diamond 
 amid the paste-jewels around her.' 
 
 At this moment a servant appeared at 
 the door, and announced that supper was 
 ready. 
 
 This announcement had the effect of 
 bringing a joyous smile upon every face. 
 In a moment each of the ladies found her- 
 self under charge of a cavalier, and the 
 laughing chatting couples filed merrily 
 downstairs to the &upper-room. 
 
 The Princess took Gerald's- arm, Lord 
 Carleon took Camilla under his protection, 
 and, in spite of the evil things he had been 
 saying of her only a few minutes before,
 
 SUPPER AT THE PRINCIPESSA'S. 269 
 
 poured into her ready ears a stream of 
 pretty sayings and flowery compliments, 
 which she accepted without a doubt as to 
 the genuineness of their mintage. 
 
 The supper-room of the Principessa di 
 Yolani was dehghtful to see. 
 
 During the summer, a light mat of In- 
 dian straw covered the floor in place of a 
 carpet. The fresh night-air was wafted into 
 the room through open windows well pro- 
 tected mth rich muslin curtains. In one 
 of the corners a fountain sent forth a con- 
 tinuous jet of water, contributing not a 
 little to maintain the atmosphere in a cool 
 and refreshing state. The table was set 
 with plate of exquisite workmanship, and 
 with Sevres china of great value. 
 
 Champagne, delicately tempered by con- 
 tact with ice, flowed in unlimited abun- 
 dance; and the most perfect freedom and 
 good understanding reigned at these sup- 
 pers. 
 
 The Principessa seated Lord Carleon on
 
 270 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 her left hand and Gerald on her right, and 
 beside the latter she placed a young lady of 
 about twenty. At first he imagined this 
 young person to be the niece of whom 
 Lord Carleon had spoken to him ; but he 
 was mistaken. 
 
 Isoline — such was the name of the 
 * niece' — never appeared either at the balls 
 or the suppers given at her aunt's house. 
 The Princess had her reasons for so arrang- 
 ing matters. 
 
 The supper had not long commenced, 
 when the lady of the house leaned towards 
 Lord Carleon, and asked him in a low 
 voice : 
 
 ' Is your friend amusing himself, Car- 
 leon? 
 
 ^ My dear Olympia, in your house how 
 could he do otherwise?' 
 
 ' I did not ask you for a compliment, 
 but for an answer.' 
 
 ' Well then, frankly, he is enchanted.' 
 
 'Truly? How old is he?
 
 SUPPER AT THE PRINCIPESSA'S. 2 71 
 
 ' Just two-and- twenty.' 
 
 ' Has he — ever been in love ?' 
 
 ' Never till to-night.' 
 
 ' To-night ! Has he seen any one here 
 who has taken his fancy ?' 
 
 ' Can you doubt it ?' 
 
 'But who is it?' 
 
 'I really don't think I ought to tell 
 you.' 
 
 ' Nonsense ! Why not ?' 
 
 ' Because, my dear Olympia, that some 
 one is — you/ replied Lord Carleon with a 
 coolness that made the resplendent Prin- 
 cess completely his dupe. 
 
 ' Me !' she cried, simpering. ' What non- 
 sense are you talking?' 
 
 'Nothing is more serious, my dear 
 Olympia.' 
 
 'You know well that — that I am not 
 free.' 
 
 ' I told him so,' said Lord Carleon; 'but 
 that only added fuel to flame.' 
 
 ' I won't believe a word of it !' cried the
 
 272 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 Princess. 'If your friend meant anything 
 of the sort, has he not got a tongue in his 
 head?' 
 
 ' But you forget how young and timid 
 he is. Encourage him, and then you'll see.' 
 
 ' You've lost your head, I believe !' cried 
 the Princess. 
 
 ' On the contrary, you know well how 
 solidly placed it is, since even you have 
 never been able to turn it.' 
 
 The Princess laughed heartily. 
 
 ' Come now,' she said, ' let's talk rea- 
 sonably. You see whom I have placed by 
 his side?' 
 
 ' Little Blondine.' 
 
 'You know her?' 
 
 ' Enough to tell you what I think of 
 her.' 
 
 ' And what do you think of her?' 
 
 ' She's not the worst of her sex.' 
 
 ' Not by a long way. And, poor thing, 
 she's been very unfortunate : had an at- 
 tachment of the heart — real attachment, I
 
 SUPPEE AT THE PRINCIPESSA S. 273 
 
 mean — and so — don't laugh ! — got into debt 
 and all sorts of horrid trouble. Now, if 
 your friend — ' 
 
 'My dear Olympia, I am not, I assure 
 you, the tutor of my friend Sir Gerald, who 
 is free both heart and purse.' 
 
 ' I understand all that ; but I know 
 what influence you exercise over all who 
 come in contact with you.' 
 
 ' You desire me not to forbid my friend 
 coming to the aid of your protegee, if he is 
 inclined to do so. Is that it?' 
 
 'Yes.' 
 
 ' Well, I promise you, if he asks my 
 advice, I will say nothing adverse to your 
 wishes. Now are you content?' 
 
 ' You are a dear good fellow, and you 
 may kiss me !' 
 
 As she spoke she held her cheek to- 
 wards him, and he kissed the corner of her 
 lips. 
 
 The young lady who formed the subject 
 of this singular conversation was, as we 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 have said, about twenty years of age. Her 
 name — or rather her nom de guerre — of 
 Blondine had come to her from the colour 
 of her hair. She was pretty and fresh- 
 corn plexioned — her beauty and freshness 
 both real and of good quality ; hence pos- 
 sibly no one had ever thought of ruining 
 himself for her. 
 
 She had very little mind, some little 
 heart, not the least knowledge of ortho- 
 graphy — and, as to morals, not wholly cor- 
 rupted. 
 
 Blondine, at that particular time, was a 
 member of the ballet at one of the large 
 theatres, and her earnings were about 
 twenty -three shillings a week for some 
 eight months out of the twelve. 
 
 Gerald had pleased her at first sight. 
 Five minutes after the supper commenced 
 she had fallen desperately in love with him ; 
 and long before the supper was over, she 
 had told him so. In appearance at least he 
 had accepted this avowal as a homage na-
 
 SUPPER AT THE PRINCIPESSA S. 275 
 
 turally due to him ; but in reality vanity 
 had mounted to his head, and he felt him- 
 self puffed up with pride and joy. 
 
 The pretended roue had been befooled 
 in the twinkling of an eye. 
 
 Rapidly the hours fled. The supper 
 went on, and without actually turning into 
 an orgie, gradually lost the calm and dis- 
 creet complexion it had worn at the com- 
 mencement. 
 
 Generous wines circulated in profusion. 
 The ordinary restraints of conversation were 
 every moment more and more disregarded; 
 jest followed jest, each one outreaching the 
 other on the side of freedom of application, 
 and each was received with salvoes of ap- 
 plause. 
 
 Lord Carleon replenished the Princess's 
 glass with champagne, and Blondine filled 
 her own and Gerald's glass, and all three 
 drank against each other, while Lord 
 Carleon laughed in his sleeve to see them 
 do it.
 
 276 TWO WOKLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 The Princess repeated to herself that 
 Gerald was a delightful fellow, and that he 
 had fallen in love with her ; on the strength 
 of which impression she squeezed his left 
 arm, and softly pressed upon his foot ; while 
 Blondine was on the point of thromng her 
 arms about his neck every three minutes. 
 
 All this attention he found delightful. 
 He crackled like a match between two fires, 
 and gave himself up to the double intoxica- 
 tion of pleasure and champagne. But little 
 by little he lost the control of his lips, and 
 his eyes half-closed themselves. 
 
 He struggled against the helplessness 
 that was stealing over him ; but in vain. 
 He made an inefi'ectual efibrt to pass one 
 arm round the Princess, while the other en- 
 compassed the more slender waist of Blon- 
 dine. His head lurched forward, and he 
 fell asleep upon the table. 
 
 '0,' cried the two ladies at the same 
 moment and in a tone of vexation, 'he's 
 fallen asleep !'
 
 SUPPER AT THE PRINCIPESSA's. 277 
 
 ' Be indulgent, ladies ! ' cried Lord Car- 
 leon ; ' remember it's his first supper !' 
 
 ' Besides, he's so young,' added the Prin- 
 cess, relenting and taking a sentimental tone 
 of voice. 
 
 ^ But he has now served his apprentice- 
 ship !' cried Blondine. 
 
 And before any one knew what she was 
 going to do, she sprang on a chair, and 
 seizing a glass half-full of champagne, poured 
 it over the bent head of the sleeper, crying 
 as she did so in a voice of comic solemnity, 
 
 'Thus I make him free of ours — the 
 gayest of all communities!'
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WAENED OF THE PERIL. 
 
 Gerald was thoroughly intoxicated ; con- 
 sequently he knew nothing of the means by 
 which he was conveyed to his hotel and put 
 to bed. Lord Carleon was as sober at the 
 end of the Princess's supper as at the be- 
 ginning, and took charge of his incapable 
 young friend, reaching his own house some- 
 where about five o'clock in the morning. 
 
 At two o'clock in the afternoon, he sent 
 his valet to inquire after Gerald's welfare, 
 who brought back word that that gentle- 
 man was quite well ; also that he had gone 
 out in company with a lady Avho had called 
 upon him, and had insisted on his being 
 awoke, that her name might be taken to 
 him. The servants at the hotel had not
 
 WARNED OF THE PERIL. 279 
 
 remembered the name she sent up to Sir 
 Gerald. 
 
 A very few moments' reflection served 
 to suggest to Lord Carleon's mind the true 
 explanation of the apparent mystery of 
 Gerald's conduct. 
 
 ' Blondine ! ' he said to himself ' The 
 dear child may compliment herself on not 
 having lost any time. She must be very 
 much in love — or terribly in want of money !' 
 
 On the morning of the day following 
 the visit of the fair Blondine, Gerald found 
 a note from Lord Carleon awaiting his re- 
 turn. It ran as follows : 
 
 * My dear Gerald, — If no more agree- 
 able engagement binds you, and if you are 
 not afraid of being bored by a couple of 
 hours' chat, will you come and breakfast 
 with me? As you are too young to be a 
 gourmet^ I will say nothing of the good 
 things you will find at my bachelor table. 
 I will only add, that I want to preach to
 
 280 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 you a little on the score of morals — and 
 that my cigars are the best / know of. I 
 shall wait breakfast for you till twelve 
 o'clock. — Ever yours, Carleon.' 
 
 Gerald had just time to dress and reach 
 Bolton-street as the clock struck twelve. 
 
 ' If I had thought of Blondine's address, 
 you might have received my note last night,' 
 said Lord Carleon, with a little touch of 
 malice. 
 
 Gerald became scarlet. 
 
 ^ Don't blush, my dear fellow. Blondine 
 is a very charming little woman.' 
 
 ' That she is, indeed,' cried Gerald ; ' and 
 she appears to love me enormously.' 
 
 ^ Nothing is more likely,' replied Lord 
 Carleon. 'Blondine, my dear Gerald, is 
 quite a heroine of constancy — she has al- 
 ready, I assure you, given several astonish- 
 ing examples of fidelity.^ 
 
 Gerald evidently winced under the irony 
 of these remarks ; Lord Carleon therefore,
 
 WARNED OF THE PERIL. 281 
 
 liaving no wish to wound his feelings, 
 changed the subject of conversation, and 
 led his guest into the dining-room, where 
 breakfast was heartily partaken of by both. 
 
 When the meal was finished. Lord Car- 
 leon and Gerald removed into an elegantly- 
 furnished smoking-room, whither they were 
 immediately followed by a servant in livery 
 bearing a silver tray, on which were two 
 cups of Japanese china, a coffee-pot, and a 
 sugar-basin, which he set on a small table. 
 By the side of the tray he placed a liqueur- 
 case, a box of cigars, a lighted taper, and 
 some folded strips of paper. Then, after 
 arranging two lounging chairs, one on either 
 side of the table, he discreetly retired. 
 
 The two friends seated themselves. 
 
 Gerald was in that light and self-satis- 
 fied state of mind which ordinarily follows 
 upon the enjoyment of an excellent break- 
 fast. Lord Carleon, on the contrary, was evi- 
 dently under the influence of some engross- 
 ing idea. For several minutes he spoke
 
 282 TWO WOKLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 little, and appeared thoughtful. He filled 
 Gerald's cup and his own, and both lit 
 cigars. 
 
 'My dear Gerald,' he said at last, as if 
 forcing himself to speak on the subject that 
 was absorbing his attention, 'do you re- 
 member that, in the note I sent you invit- 
 ing you to breakfast, I threatened you with 
 a little sermonising on the subject of morals ?* 
 
 ' You don't mean to say you are really 
 going to carry your threat into execution?' 
 demanded Gerald gaily. 
 
 ' Can you suggest any reason why I 
 shouldn't?' 
 
 ' None whatever ; so, if the impulse is 
 irresistible, moralise to your heart's con- 
 tent, my dear Carleon. I know that your 
 code of morals is not a very severe one.' 
 
 ' Don't be too sure. In the first place, 
 my dear fellow, it was agreed that you 
 should make your entrance into society 
 under my charge, and I undertook — ac- 
 cording to the formula of the Chevalier —
 
 WARNED OF THE PERIL. 283 
 
 to teach you " how to live." Since the 
 night before last I have thought a good 
 deal upon the subject of all this.' 
 
 ' With what view ? ' 
 
 ' It appears to me that you may make a 
 nobler use of your intelligence, your strength, 
 and your fortune, than to squander all these 
 treasures among roues and women without 
 hearts. I Avould rather help you to become 
 a man than a mere creature of fashionable 
 life.' 
 
 Gerald listened to this utterly unex- 
 pected address with profound and momently - 
 increasing astonishment. His face expressed 
 complete bewilderment. 
 
 'Do you understand me?' asked Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 ' Scarcely,' replied Gerald. 
 
 ' I will explain myself better,' said Lord 
 Carleon. ' Tell me what you think of the 
 society into which I experimentally intro- 
 duced you the night before last.' 
 
 ' 1 think it highly amusing.'
 
 284 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' You see nothing to object to in it ?' 
 
 'Why should I?' 
 
 liOrd Carleon made no answer to this 
 question. 
 
 ' Will you allow me to ask you a ques- 
 tion?' Gerald said, seeing that Lord Car- 
 leon did not immediately continue the con- 
 versation. 
 
 ' A dozen, if you wish it/ replied Lord 
 Carleon thoughtfully. 
 
 ' Are not the habits and manners of the 
 men I met at the Princess's house those of 
 the men of the society in which you your- 
 self occujDy a foremost place?' 
 
 ' Unfortunately, yes.' 
 
 ' Then, it seems to me — if you allow me 
 to speak my mind frankly — there is an ab- 
 solute discrepancy between your acts and 
 your teaching, as though you had adopted 
 the axiom of that forgotten preacher who 
 besought his flock not to do as he did, but 
 as he told them to do. In other terms, my 
 dear Lord Carleon, I find you to be two
 
 WARNED OF THE PERIL. 285 
 
 men — one of action, one of argument. Pray 
 enlighten me as to which of the two is right, 
 which of the two I am to imitate or be 
 counselled by.' 
 
 Lord Carleon listened, a half-jesting ex- 
 pression, which had become habitual, upon 
 his face. 
 
 ' You wish to come to that point?' he 
 asked; 'and you have nothing to add?' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' I'll answer you conclusively, then. 
 The judgment you have formed of me is 
 specious, I admit ; but it is very far from 
 just, as I will presently prove to you. You 
 tell me that there is a disagreement between 
 my words and my acts; and you ask me 
 which you are to be guided by, my example 
 or my advice. There is no room for a 
 moment's doubt. You perfectly well know 
 that I am right in speaking as I do, and 
 that I am wrong in doing as I do. 
 
 ' My dear Gerald, I now ask you, with all 
 the earnestness of my heart, to listen to my
 
 286 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 advice, and to shun the dangerous example 
 of my conduct, if you are tempted to take 
 example by it. You are young ; life is all 
 before you, and you may make it a happy 
 one, if you will. You are rich, and may 
 make a noble and generous use of your for- 
 tune. You may unite your fate to that of 
 some chaste and charming girl, to whom 
 you may offer your first and only love. You 
 will see your life renewed in your children, 
 who will be your joy and glory — living as 
 you have lived, happy and honoured.' 
 
 ' Such language in the mouth of Lord 
 Carleon !' cried Gerald, in a low tone of as- 
 tonishment. 
 
 ' I can well understand your surprise,' 
 said Lord Carleon ; ' but do you know why I 
 speak to you in this way, Gerald ? I will tell 
 you. It is because I feel a deep regard for 
 you — an affectionate regard, Gerald. I 
 scarcely know you; I see you to-day for 
 the third time only ; yet I feel that you oc- 
 cupy a place in my heart ; and I cannot
 
 WARNED OF THE PERIL. 287 
 
 consider you either in the light of a stranger 
 or as one who is indifferent to me. I can- 
 not stand by smiling, and see your careless 
 bark plunged into an abyss of which I know 
 the almost unfathomable depths. 
 
 ^Believe me, Gerald, I have long dis- 
 covered the nothingness, the cruel bitter- 
 ness of the existence whose false glitter now 
 allures you ; and I fulfil a duty when I cry 
 to you, "Be warned of the peril!'' In the 
 region of this peril the judgment is per- 
 verted, the heart is vitiated, the soul cor- 
 rupted, the intelligence destroyed, honour 
 stained ; and it is from all this that I would 
 preserve you, as I would do my own son — 
 if I had one, and he resembled you.' 
 
 These words were pronounced by Lord 
 Carleon with an emotion which he did not 
 attempt to conceal. He fixed on Gerald a 
 tender penetrating look, to see whether the 
 emotion by which he was himself so deeply 
 moved affected his young companion. 
 
 Gerald remained wholly unmoved. In-
 
 288 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 deed he had scarcely heard the latter por- 
 tion of Lord Carleon's address ; his thoughts 
 having wandered to Blondine and the gay 
 circle of guests at the house of the Princi- 
 pessa di Yolani. 
 
 Lord Carleon saw plainly that he had to 
 deal with an exceptional nature; that he 
 had addressed a heart already vitiated and 
 hardened. He resolved, however, to make 
 a last effort. 
 
 ' No doubt,' he said, ' you wonder how it 
 comes to pass that I, at my age, and preach- 
 ing as I do to others, still pursue the beaten 
 paths of existence, away from which I am 
 trying to turn you. Well, into this life, 
 which appears so brilliant to you, I long 
 ago threw myself — not from taste, but to 
 escape from remorse which beset me. I 
 accepted this kind of life as an expiation — I 
 continue it as a chastisement.' 
 
 ' Good heavens, what do you mean?' 
 cried Gerald, in whom these words sud- 
 denly awakened a lively curiosity.
 
 WARNED OF THE PERIL. 289 
 
 ' You really wish to know?' asked Lord 
 Carleon. 
 
 ' Yes ; if my desire is not an indiscre- 
 tion.' 
 
 ' It is the story of my youth ; may the 
 experience of my faults profit you better 
 than it has me ! This story I have never 
 told to any one. In telling it to you I am 
 going to reopen in my heart wounds that 
 can never be healed, and that will bleed 
 anew, as in the days when they were freshly 
 received. But what matters it, if I attain 
 the end I have in view? — and I shall attain 
 it, Gerald, if you listen to me with affec- 
 tionate attention, and with a mind open to 
 conviction.' 
 
 He told him the whole story of his early 
 years; laid bare to him every detail of 
 his guilty love, and guiltier abandonment 
 of Marguerite. Reaching the point of his 
 story where he had lost all trace of Ma- 
 dame Simon and her daughter, he con- 
 tinued : 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ^For years my life had no other end 
 than to recover Marguerite; but hope at 
 length died in despair. Then it was that I 
 returned to London, and plunged into the 
 wild existence of the brilliant world in 
 which I have ever since lived; in which I 
 have hidden from all eyes the incurable sor- 
 row gnawing at my heart. 
 
 ' I have put a mask upon my visage to 
 disguise its deadly pallor ; I have compelled 
 my lips to smile, and nobody has discovered 
 that the smile was but a bitter grimace. My 
 heart no longer beats ; my senses have no 
 longer any desires. 
 
 ' Often I have thought of squandering 
 my fortune in one year of royal opulence, 
 then finishing by suicide the existence that 
 was weighing me down. But from the 
 execution of this design I have always 
 shrunk. 
 
 ^ Do you know why, Gerald ? Because I 
 have said to myself, that I had no right 
 to dispose of my fortune and life. Nei-
 
 WARNED OF THE PERIL. 291 
 
 ther the one nor the other belongs to 
 me: they belong to Marguerite and to 
 my child, if heaven one day gives them 
 back to me. 
 
 ' Now, Gerald, you know what I have 
 been — you know what I am. Do you now 
 understand why I seek — and why I shall 
 always seek — to lead you from the fatal 
 path which you desire to follow?' 
 
 Lord Carleon ceased speaking; and at 
 first Gerald seemed disinclined to make any 
 remark. He had listened with curiosity and 
 interest, but entirely without emotion, to 
 the painful narrative of his host. 
 
 ' You are silent,' said Lord Carleon. 
 
 'What can I say?' replied Gerald. 
 
 ' Come, Gerald, do not close your heart 
 and reason to the bitter teaching of my ex- 
 perience. Look at the noble and serious 
 side of life; promise me to be a man, and 
 not a mere seeker of hollow and worthless 
 pleasures.' 
 
 Gerald shook his head.
 
 292 TWO WOELDS OF FASHION. 
 
 ' You persist in the course you have de- 
 termined on?' 
 'I do.' 
 
 ' In spite of everything I can say to you 
 — in spite of all I have said ?' 
 
 ' Nothing that you have said proves that 
 youth is not the season of pleasure. You 
 judge yourself severely. You committed, 
 long ago, certain faults which I should have 
 viewed with very indulgent eyes, but for 
 which, you say, you are pursued by re- 
 morse. I have nothing of the sort to re- 
 proach myself with — no unpleasant recollec- 
 tions to trouble the enjoyments I promise 
 myself.' 
 
 ' In heaven's name, Gerald, reflect.' 
 ' Thank you, I'd rather not; I might faU 
 into the weakness of changing my mind.' 
 ' But this is mere folly.' 
 ' At least it's a delightful sort of folly.' 
 'Think of the future.' 
 ' Time enough for that when the future 
 comes.'
 
 WARNED OF THE PERIL. 293 
 
 ' Gerald, once more I ask you to be 
 worthy of yourself. You are a gentleman ; 
 remember the proud and glorious motto of 
 our caste — Noblesse oblige.'' 
 
 Gerald interrupted him. 
 
 ' My dear Lord Carleon, 1 beg of you 
 not to continue in this strain. You have 
 favoured me with excellent advice, and if I 
 could have bowed to your reason or yielded 
 to your wishes, I would have done so ; but 
 my side is taken, after due consideration, 
 and my resolution is irrevocable.' 
 
 This was said in a tone so peremptory, 
 that Lord Carleon was convinced it would 
 be useless to make any farther attempt. 
 
 ' Take your own course, since it must 
 be so,' he said, bowing sadly ; ' your destiny 
 be accomplished,' he added with a deep 
 sigh. 
 
 'Do you entirely abandon me, then?' 
 asked Gerald. 
 
 'No,' answered Lord Carleon gravely; 
 'I should be afraid to do that. You have
 
 294 TWO WORLDS OF FASHION. 
 
 determined to launch your frail bark upon 
 a stormy sea ; I will at least hold the helm, 
 and save you, if I can, from foundering 
 amid the rocks that thickly beset your 
 
 course.' 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 lokdon: 
 robson axt) sons, pbintebs, pangeas koad, tsm.
 
 
 J y