Produced by Giovanni Fini, Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net MRS. DARRELL [Illustration] [Illustration: ââI DONâT THINK MRS. DARRELL CAN SEE YOU AGAIN.ââ] MRS. DARRELL BY FOXCROFT DAVIS AUTHOR OF âDESPOTISM AND DEMOCRACYâ _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WILLIAM SHERMAN POTTS_ New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. 1905 _All rights reserved_ COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped. Published May, 1905. Norwood Press J. S. Cushing & Co.âBerwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. CONTENTS PAGE _Chapter One_ 1 _Chapter Two_ 30 _Chapter Three_ 49 _Chapter Four_ 63 _Chapter Five_ 71 _Chapter Six_ 80 _Chapter Seven_ 95 _Chapter Eight_ 118 _Chapter Nine_ 150 _Chapter Ten_ 175 _Chapter Eleven_ 210 _Chapter Twelve_ 220 _Chapter Thirteen_ 245 _Chapter Fourteen_ 269 _Chapter Fifteen_ 289 _Chapter Sixteen_ 307 _Chapter Seventeen_ 356 _Chapter Eighteen_ 370 ILLUSTRATIONS ââI donât think Mrs. Darrell can see you againââ _Frontispiece_ FACING PAGE ââOh, papa!â she said, âsave my little pearl heartââ 6 â... She caught him by the arm and whispered, âAnd could you leave me?ââ 64 âBaskerville took Anne out to dinnerâ 138 âThe little park was wholly deserted except for themselvesâ 236 âThe next minute she was fast in Baskervilleâs armsâ 280 MRS. DARRELL _Chapter One_ Time was, not so long ago, when Washington had some primitive aspects. This was when the city was merely a political capital and society was made up of the high government officials, the diplomatic corps, the army and navy, and senators were very great personages and even the now despised members of the House of Representatives had a place on the social chessâboard. This was before the influx of recently acquired wealth and the building of splendid mansions wherein to house the retired trade. There were few private ballârooms, and certain subscription dances were reckoned to be very smart. To these dances young ladies were not ashamed to wear muslin gowns, nor to go in the tram, carrying with them a contrivance known as a âpartyâbag,â which held their white slippers, fans, and gloves. The young ladies were just as beautiful then as now, as certainly Captain Reginald Darrell and Captain Hugh Pelham, officers of the 178th Foot Regiment, then stationed in India, thought one night as they watched from the street those charming Washington girls thronging to the big Charity Ball of the season. It was a cold, clear January night, and the two young officers, cousins and chums, who had wandered idly from their hotel, watched with profound interest this phase of an American ball. The event being a great Charity Ball, tickets were on sale at all the hotels. Pelham and Darrell had invested in a couple of tickets, and were now standing outside the building, doubting whether after all they should go in or not. They had heard and read much of American splendor, and this had come nearly deterring them from coming to America at all, considering their small allowance and modest pay in a foot regiment. Both of them, it was true, were the grandsons of a peer, but a peer almost as poor as Lazarus. Each had the enormous advantage of good birth, good breeding, and the urgent necessity of making his own way in the world. There was, it is true, some shadowy expectation of a fortune which Darrell might inherit as heirâatâlaw, and Pelham was next heir after Darrell. But the chance was so remote that the only present benefit they had out of it was messâtable joking, and a declaration on Darrellâs part that his loveâaffairs were always cruelly interfered with by Pelham. In fact, Pelhamâs interferenceâthat is to say, influenceâwith Darrell in every way was complete, Darrell being simple, brave, polite, handsome, and commonplace, while Pelham was short, dark, rather homely, of uncommon powers of mind and character. Pelham was much favored by women, whom he treated with remarkable gentleness and courtesy, but for whom he had felt a secret indifference. Darrell, on the contrary, was devoted to the whole sex, their petted and curled darling. He thought a woman the object of the highest consequence,âthat is to say, next to sport, which he regarded as something sacred, ranking with Church and State. He always had a dozen loveâaffairs on hand, and like the man in the old song, âHe loved the ladies, every one.â In Darrellâs eyes, Pelhamâs only fault was that he considered these loveâaffairs legitimate subjects of chaffing and laughing, while Darrell took them all with perfect seriousness. It was Pelham who, in his desire to see the world, so far as his narrow purse would permit, had induced Darrell to plunge, so to speak, to the extent of going to India by way of the United States and spending three weeks in Washington, relying upon economy for the next five years when they would be with their regiment in India in the Punjaub. They were somewhat surprised, however, to find that in the capital of the richest country in the world there was no great amount of splendor in those days, but rather a modest standard of living for a capital. In particular it appeared to them this evening that the splendor of the ball was conspicuous by its absence. It must be premised, however, that they had not then seen the supper, which was truly regal. Exteriorly, they could not but compare the scene with the real magnificence of such an occasion in London during the season, with the superb coaches magnificently horsed, the gorgeousâliveried footmen, the army of servants lining the stairways and the approaches, and the universal elegance which pervades these balls of the summer nights given under the sky of London. At the Washington ball, however, they saw only a moderate number of private carriages, ordinary in every way, a vast number of shabby old cabs,âknown then as âhacks,ââgentlemen arriving on foot, and even young ladies, their ballâdresses discreetly covered with large cloaks, tripping along the streets, with their escorts of father or brother carrying a partyâbag. This, remember, was before the Deluge, that is to say at least fifteen years ago. The building in which the ball was held was large and plain, both inside and out, but blazing with lights. The street itself had long since been deserted by fashion. The negroes, never absent from a spectacle in Washington, with their white teeth shining in the wintry moonlight lined the sidewalk. A few white persons loitered under the gasâlamp, watching the long line of carriages discharging their inmates at the big, wideâopen door, from whence the strains of the Marine Band floated out into the cold, still night. The two young Englishmen entered the street and stood watching the scene with interest, leaning against the tall iron railings of the oldâfashioned quarter. Pelham and Darrell noticed near them, also leaning against the iron railings, a man of about middle age, with a sort of leonine beauty and handsomely dressed, though far too showily. His furâlined greatcoat brought out the cleanâcut outlines of his cleanâshaven face, his ironâgray hair, and straight, narrow brows over eyes of singular eloquence. Both young officers observed him, for it was difficult at any time to look once at James Clavering without looking at him twice. In the circle of light made by two flashing gasâlamps in the front entrance, suddenly appeared a young girl leaning on the arm of an elderly gentleman. At the same instant the eyes of Pelham and Darrell and Clavering fell upon her, and each thought her the most beautiful woman that he had ever seenâwhich was, however, a very great mistake. Elizabeth Brandon had, it is true, hair of satin blackness and skin of milky whiteness, and eyes that reminded one of a summer night, so soft, so dark with occasional flashes of starlike brilliancy, and a figure as slight and graceful as a lilyâstalk. Other women have as much beauty of feature as Elizabeth Brandon, but she had that which is beauty itself, the power to charm at a glance. She was not really as handsome as her father, General Brandon, on whose arm she leaned, and who carried her partyâbag. [Illustration: ââOH, PAPA!â SHE SAID, âSAVE MY LITTLE PEARL HEART.ââ] Both Pelham and Darrell saw at a glance that General Brandon was a military man. And Clavering recognized him as the Captain Brandon he had known twentyâfive years before at a post in Texas, where Clavering was at the time a sutler. He had heard that, at the breaking out of the Civil War, Captain Brandon, who was a Southern man, had resigned and had become a brigadierâgeneral in the Confederate Army. Since the war, Brandon had disappeared in the great, black gulf that opened where once stood a government which called itself the Confederate States of America. But Clavering gave no thought to this, as under the cover of darkness he surveyed the charming girl who clung to General Brandonâs arm. The two stood directly in front of Pelham and Darrell, who bestowed upon Elizabeth those glances of respectful admiration which is the homage due to beauty. âMy dear,â said General Brandon, in a peculiarly musical voice, to his daughter, âI think we had better wait here until Mrs. Luttrellâs carriage arrives. It is in line down the street, but will not be here for five minutes or more.â Darrell and Pelham moved a little aside so that the young lady and her father might be somewhat out of the way of the passing throng. General Brandon recognized this civility by lifting his hat punctiliously to each, which courtesy both of them returned. At the same moment, Elizabeth lifting her hand to her white throat, her sleeve caught in a slender gold chain around her neck and a sudden movement broke it. âOh, papa!â she said, âsave my little pearl heart. I would not lose it for the world.â General Brandon immediately looked down on the wet sidewalk for the trinket, a search in which he was joined by both Pelham and Darrell. Clavering, who was in the shadow, did not move, but his eyes followed every movement of the group. Elizabeth unconsciously brushed against him. There was some mud on his boots, and it became transferred to her white muslin skirts, which she let fall in the anxiety of her loss. The trinket, it would seem, had fallen at their very feet, but it was not to be found. Elizabethâs eyes filled with tears, and she mourned for her little pearl heart as if it had been a lost child. âIt is of no real value,â she said to Pelham, raising her soft, dark eyes to his, âbut I would not have lost it for anything.â Both Pelham and Darrell were keenâeyed and searched diligently for the lost trinket, but unavailingly. Pelham, usually the most unimpressed of men where women and their fallals were concerned, felt that he would have given a monthâs pay to have found the little ornament and thereby dry the tears that glistened on Elizabethâs long, black lashes; but it was soon obvious that there was no finding her lost treasure. Its disappearance, though mysterious, was instant and complete. General Brandon said in his slow, suave voice: âMy dear child, all our efforts are vain. I think your little treasure must have been stolen by an unseen hand at the instant you dropped it; but you, gentlemen,â he said, turning to Pelham and Darrell, âhave been most kind, and I beg to introduce myself to you. I am General Brandon of Virginia, formerly of the United States Army and lately of the Confederate Army. Here is my card, and I shall be most pleased to see you at my house.â Pelham and Darrell were nearly knocked down by this unexpected invitation. They did not know that a Virginian never loses the habit of asking Thomas, Richard, and Henry to call upon him, on the slightest provocation and often without any provocation at all. But they recognized in a moment that this handsome and courtly person who went around recklessly inviting street acquaintances to visit his house, was a gentleman of purest rays serene, and being of the same caste themselves, and thereby made free, both of them promptly accepted. Pelham, who was quick of wit where Darrell was slow, introduced himself and his friend, each handing his card. âAh!â cried General Brandon, âso you are officers of the British Army. I am more than pleased to meet you. I am, like most persons in my native state, of unmixed English descent, my family being a younger branch of the SuffolkâBrandons; and I also am of the profession of arms. I was in the old army, where I held the rank of major, and afterward, when I followed my state out of the Union, I had the honor of being brigadierâgeneral in the army of the Southern Confederacy. Permit me to introduce you to my daughter.â And this General Brandon proceeded to do. Elizabeth bowed and smiled and was not at all taken aback by the suddenness of the acquaintance. Virginians think that all wellâbred persons constitute a sort of national and international oligarchy, whereof every member is or ought to be known to every other member. Pelham and Darrell were perfectly delighted, Darrell at the chance of meeting so beautiful a girl as Elizabeth, and Pelham charmed with the courtesy and innocent simplicity of General Brandon, who, while a man of the world in its best sense, was yet unworldly. âAnd may I ask,â said the General, âif you are attending the ball toânight?â âYes,â said Pelham, âwe understood it was a Charity Ball, and bought tickets at the hotel; but as we are entire strangers, we were doubtful whether after all it would be judicious for us to show our faces in the ballâroom.â âMy dear sir,â replied General Brandon, earnestly, âdo not give yourself the least uneasiness, I beg of you. I myself am not going, and a friend Mrs. Luttrell will chaperon my daughter; but Mrs. Luttrell will likewise chaperon you, and I shall have pleasure in introducing you to any one whom you may desire to meet. My daughter also will do the same.â âWith pleasure,â said Elizabeth, quickly and sweetly. âIf you will do me the honor to dance with me,â said Darrell to Elizabeth, thinking to cut Pelham out. âI canât compete with Captain Darrell on that ground,â said Pelham, quickly, with a certain grimness in his smile, âbut if Miss Brandon will only condescend to notice me in the ballâroom, I shall feel that I am well established.â Elizabeth looked at Pelham closely. He was not at all handsome, but he was far from insignificant, and he had one of those beautifully modulated English voices and a look and a smile which were extremely winning to women, children, and lost dogs. Darrell on the contrary was as handsome as a dream, with the unmistakable blond, clean, AngloâSaxon beauty. By this time, among the slow procession of carriages, ever moving, a big, oldâfashioned landeau, with a pair of longâtailed horses to it and a colored coachman and footman, halted directly in front of them. A lady with very dark eyes and very white hair and a voice sweet, but with a singular carrying quality which could make itself heard over all the clatter of the street, called out:â âMy dear General Brandon, I am mortified to death almost. I meant to bring Elizabeth to the ball with me, but I declare I forgot all about it until it was too late, and my nephew has been scolding me about it ever since I left home. Richard, go and fetch Elizabeth now.â The carriage door opened, and Richard Baskerville got out. He was a little better looking than Pelham, though not half so good looking as Darrell; but he belonged in the category of Pelham,âthat class of men who can attract notice and admiration without the aid of good looks. He advanced and, bowing to General Brandon, offered his arm to Elizabeth, saying with the air of old acquaintanceship, âMy aunt has really behaved shockingly to you, and I am ashamed of her.â âStop, Richard,â said General Brandon, detaining him. âI wish to present to you two friends of mine.â General Brandon had never laid eyes on Darrell or Pelham in his life until five minutes before; but Richard Baskerville, who understood General Brandon thoroughly, would not have been the least surprised if he had introduced a bootblack who had obliged him and was therefore a valued friend. âMay I introduce you to Captain Pelham of the 178th Foot, and Captain Darrell of the same regiment,âBritish officers? I need say no more.â Baskerville politely shook hands with both Pelham and Darrell, who discerned in him one of the most agreeable traits of American character, cordiality to strangersâa cordiality which prevails in all American society among the retired tradespeople, the newly rich. âAnd,â continued General Brandon, âthey are both going to the ball. I intrust them to Mrs. Luttrell to make acquaintances among the young ladies, and to you for the same duties among the gentlemen.â Then Mrs. Luttrellâs penetrating voice was heard calling to General Brandon, âCome here this minute, General Brandon.â And when he was about halfway across the muddy street to her carriage, she inquired, in a tone perfectly audible to both Pelham and Darrell, âWho are those two niceâlooking men standing with Elizabeth?â âEnglish officers,â replied General Brandon. âI hope you find yourself very well this evening.â âBring them here this instant. I shall take them to the ball with me!â was Mrs. Luttrellâs reply to this informationâMrs. Luttrell being a pirate and freebooter of the worst description whenever desirable men were discerned. âJust what I was about to ask you, but as usual you anticipate everything.â Pelham, Darrell, and Baskerville, who were looking gravely at each other, exchanged glances, which were equivalent to winks, and Baskerville said:â âYou might as well give in to my aunt. She is a very determined woman, but she will do a good part by you with the young ladies. I need not say I shall be most happy to introduce you to any one of my acquaintances you may wish to know. Come, Miss Brandon.â He gave Elizabeth his arm and escorted her, with Pelham and Darrell following, across the street to where Mrs. Luttrellâs big coach, with the lamps flowing out in the darkness, had its place in the line of carriages. Elizabeth had felt from the beginning the strange influence of the unknown man in the shadow, whose eyes had been fixed upon her from the moment of their arrival. She had glanced back half a dozen times at his tall and imposing figure and had been acutely conscious of his keen observation. She felt it still as she walked away from him. Elizabeth felt as if in a dream. She was distressed and even superstitious about the loss of her little ornament. It not only distressed her, but had given her a presentiment of evil, and she was vaguely conscious of some malign influence near her and likewise of the admiration and incipient tenderness which Darrell and Pelham felt towards her, of her fatherâs deep and protecting love, of being the object of solicitude to Mrs. Luttrell and Baskerville. She was at that moment surrounded by admiration and love and care, but she was haunted by a sudden sense of evil close to her. She stepped silently into the carriage, and took her seat by Mrs. Luttrellâs side. General Brandon then presented the two young British officers as if they were his longâlost brothers. Mrs. Luttrell received them, not as if they were her longâlost brothers, but like a perfect woman of the world, born to command, and who, seeing what she wanted, took her own, wherever she found it, as MoliÃ¨re says. And now she said to them: âPlease get into the carriage. It holds four very comfortably. I do not care for these miniature broughams and coupÃ©s, meant to hold a woman and a poodle. I like a good big carriage, the sort our greatâgrandfathers had when everybody had fourteen children and generally took seven with them when they went visiting. My carriage holds four, and I could pack six away in it if I chose. I can take you in, General Brandon,â she said. âA thousand thanks, my dear Mrs. Luttrell,â replied General Brandon, who did not have at that moment the price of a ticket either at home or in his pocket. âI have no intention of going to the ball since you are so kind as to chaperon my child. Good night.â âGood night.â Baskerville then shut the door. âYou neednât ask me to get in. I shall walk down. It is only a step anyhow, but I know your propensities for packing your carriage as full as an omnibus, and I donât believe in encouraging you in your vices.â âThe way my nephew talks to me is perfectly shocking,â said Mrs. Luttrell, resignedly, to her newâfound guests; âbut he is the best and dearest fellow in the world.â Pelham and Darrell were more and more delighted at every turn in their adventure. Darrell recognized by instinct and Pelham by his naturally thorough reasoning powers that here they had come across an American ladyâno sham Englishwoman, with the sham English manner, sham affectation of speech, and with all the defects of an exact imitation. And each of them felt a strange joy at being so close to Elizabeth Brandon. She sat back in the carriage, and they could see her white breast rising and falling as she threw back her large gray cloak; and the soft beauty of her eyes was visible in the half darkness of the carriage. Elizabeth, who, like most Southern women, was naturally talkative, kept singularly quiet. Her gaze was turned towards the spot where they had just been standing, and she was conscious rather than actually saw the dark brown eyes of the man who had stood just behind her and whose presence near her she had felt without seeing him. But she recovered herself and began to talk with a graceful ease and familiarity at once charming and flattering to the two young Englishmen. Mrs. Luttrell, however, held the centre of the stage, according to her invariable custom, and gave Pelham and Darrell a pretty fair idea of what they would meet at the Charity Ball. In a few minutes more the carriage reached the door of the hall, where Baskerville was awaiting them, and he escorted them up the stairs. He utilized the time when Mrs. Luttrell and Elizabeth were in the dressingâroom, to introduce the two young officers to several of the men best worth knowing in Washington. As for the ladies, Elizabeth, on removing her cloak, was dismayed to find that her fresh white muslin gown had more than one spot of mud on it, and it took ten minutes of diligent rubbing, washing, and pressing to get it out. She realized that she must have got it from the boots of the man who stood behind her, whose dark and striking face had fixed her attention at first and in whose neighborhood she had felt strangely influenced. And then the loss of her little pearl heartâBut the Marine Band was playing loudly a rhythmic waltz, there were partners at the door waiting for her. She had two desirable men, both strangers, whom she might consider her property for that evening. She was young and beautiful, and in a little while all of her unpleasant sensations passed away. She found herself whirling around the room in Darrellâs arms. For a wonder, although an Englishman, he knew how to dance, and Elizabeth was intensely susceptible to rhythm and music. She felt when she began to waltz with Darrell, as if she would like to waltz forever with him. He was so strong, so supple, so graceful,âso susceptible, like herself, to that charm of dance music in which two people dancing together are conscious of that sensuous counterpart of real love which makes a man and a woman feel as if they constituted one being with a single heart and a single soul. Darrell realized the first moment that he held Elizabeth in his arms and floated with her to the languorous waltz music, that he had never really been in love at all before; but, as he frankly confessed to himself, it was all up with him now. He knew not who or what she was, but it could make but little difference to him. He loved her and he knew it. He would have liked not to leave her side once during the evening, and in fact he was near her most of the time and danced with her six times. Pelham, on the contrary, only sat out a single dance with her, as he was not a dancing man. He too felt a charm about her which he had never known in any other woman. Sitting out dances with young ladies had been a species of torment to him, but not so this time. He thought the charm that Elizabeth exercised over him was that she was the first of all unmarried Englishâspeaking women that he had known who was perfectly and entirely at her ease with an unmarried man. She assumed an attitude openly and yet most delicately flattering towards him. He had known Englishwomen of fascination who were entirely at ease with men, but never flattering; and he had known other women who were very flattering to men, but never at ease with them. Here was a woman who treated him with the frankness she would have shown towards a younger brother, with the confidence she would have shown a respected elder brother, and with the deference she would have shown the greatest Duke in England. Pelham rightly judged that here he had met the true American type. A woman with an ancestry of gentle people, dating back two or three hundred years, and developed in a country where respect for women is so insisted upon as to be professed by those who neither believe in it nor practise it,âas such Elizabeth was to him the most interesting woman he had ever met. He was himself a reading man, and Elizabeth Brandon at twenty had read only a few books, but these were the English classics and they had given her the capacity to talk to a reading man like Pelham. He foresaw that at thirty Elizabeth would have read a great many books, and with the untrammelled association with men of all ages and in the free American atmosphere, her mind, naturally good, would have developed admirably. As Pelham and Elizabeth sat at the foot of the stairs, a cabinet officer passed them slowly, as they sat under a bower of great palms, with the throbbing music far enough away not to interrupt their talk; and Elizabeth spoke to the cabinet officer. He was an elderly man from the West, manly and even gentlemanly, though not polished. Pelham noticed with what ease Elizabeth spoke to this type of man, the smiling, tactful answers she gave to his pleasant but rather blunt questions. She introduced Pelham promptly to him, accompanying the introduction with a request that he would be very nice to Captain Pelham while he was in Washington; and when the cabinet officer asked her what she wanted him to do for Captain Pelham, she replied promptly:â âSend him a card to the club.â Pelham was aghast at the boldness of this, and tried to imagine the daughter of a halfâpay officer in England asking a cabinet minister to send a card to Whiteâs and Brookeâs to a chance acquaintance she had just picked up. Elizabeth continued placidly: âOf course I could get a card through papa. He does not belong to the club,âit is too expensive,âbut he knows a great many men in the club. You know he canât afford anything except me; and there are plenty of other men who would send Captain Pelham a card if I asked them, but you happen to be the biggest man I know and that is why I am asking you.â At which the cabinet officer, laughing, said, âWill you be kind enough, Captain Pelham, to give me the name of your hotel?âand I will have a card sent to you toâmorrow morning.â âAnd he has a cousin, Captain Darrell,â added Elizabeth, promptly, âand he must have a card, too.â âCertainly,â replied the cabinet officer, taking out his noteâbook and writing down the two names. âHis brothers, cousins, and his uncles and all his relations, if you like,â and after taking the names down the cabinet officer walked away, laughing. This was an experience that Pelham thought his comrades would doubt when he told it at the messâtable of the 178th Foot. Pelham spent much more time with Mrs. Luttrell than with Elizabeth, and the two were mutually charmed. Mrs. Luttrellâs daring and positive language and her air of command were accompanied with a fascination of smile and voice which was effective even with her snowâwhite hair and crowâs feet around her eyes, still full of light and life. Pelham noticed that she was always surrounded by men, young and old. She treated the young men like patriarchs and the patriarchs like boys. Baskerville, quiet, rather sedate, and seeking the middleâaged rather than the young, struck Pelham as one of the pleasantest fellows he had ever met. It looked as if this chance incursion of the Charity Ball would reveal more of the real American life to Pelham and Darrell than they might have met in a month of ordinary travellerâs advantages. Mrs. Luttrell had already engaged them for a couple of dinners and Baskerville for a club breakfast. Most of the people they met were agreeable, and they noticed that buoyancy of spirit and gayety of heart which a great writer on America, and another writer who was the most patronizing literary snob ever seen in North America, mutually agreed to be characteristic of American society. The ball itself, which was described by the society correspondents as of surpassing brilliancy, hardly reached that mark; but to three persons, Elizabeth Brandon, Pelham, and Darrell, it was an evening of delight, never to be forgotten. Meanwhile, James Clavering still stood outside in the sharp, starlit night, listening to the bursts of music which came at intervals from the ballâroom and watching the great lighted windows. He saw Elizabeth Brandon float past in Darrellâs arms, and watched them enviously. His exterior showed that the price of a ballâticket was nothing to him, but he knew that he had no place then in a ballâroom. He had taken no part in searching for the trinket which Elizabeth had dropped, but presently, moving a little, he saw under his heel the crushed fragments of pearls. He had unconsciously ground the little heart under his foot. It gave him a spasm of regret and even of sentiment, and he thought to himself, with an odd smile flitting across his wellâcut features, âSuppose some day I should give that girl a diamond heart, five times as big and a thousand times as costly as this. It wouldnât be so strange, after all.â He had stood watching the last stragglers to the ball and searching the windows for a passing glimpse of the beautiful Elizabeth. Meanwhile, outside, General Brandon had returned to the sidewalk. He would have dearly liked to go, himself; but it had been all that he could do to buy a ticket for Elizabeth,âa ticket and seventeen yards of white muslin, which she herself had fashioned with her own fingers into a beautiful gown and had trimmed with her grandmotherâs old lace. As General Brandon was moving off, a hand touched his elbow, and James Clavering, who had been standing a little in the background, spoke to him. âThis is General Brandon?â he said. âYes,â replied General Brandon, looking into the clearâcut face of the man before him, who towered a head above him. âAnd you, I cannot at this moment call your name.â âItâs Clavering. Donât you remember me when I was a sutler at Fort Worth in Texas, and you were a captain of cavalry at the same post?â A light dawned upon General Brandon. He grasped the exâsutlerâs hand as cordially as if he had been an officer of the British Army. âCertainly I do. You knew me before the war.â All Virginians divide time into three epochs, before the war, during the war, and after the war. âAnd a very excellent sutler you were. I recall that you had a good, industrious wife and several promising children. You look prosperous. The world seems to have gone well with you.â âPretty well,â replied Clavering, ignoring the mention of his wife and children. He had a voice of music which added to his other personal advantages. âI hope the same is the case with you?â The General smiled placidly. âI resigned from the army when my state seceded, and went through four years on the battlefields of Virginia, and I attained the rank of brigadierâgeneral. Then I entered the service of the Khedive of Egypt and served in Egypt for eight years, but you know what has fallen out there. So I have returned to Washington, and through the influence of old army friends I have secured a clerkship in the War Department.â âPretty hard lines, isnât it?â asked Clavering, looking at General Brandonâs seedy greatcoat, and knowing what stupendous changes were involved in the story told so smilingly by the timeâworn veteran. âScarcely that,â answered General Brandon, with the same gentleness of tone and smile. âI have a small house here in rather a good part of the town, and my salary is sufficient for my simple wants and those of my daughter, who has no extravagant tastes. Thanks to my old army friends I am here, and they have met me with extraordinary kindness and goodâwill and shown me much hospitality. On the whole I think myself decidedly well off, all things considered.â Clavering looked at General Brandon with pity and goodânatured contempt. He seemed to Clavering about as guileless and innocent as a boardingâschool miss or a college sophomore; and yet he had commanded three thousand fighting men, during four fierce years of a bloody war, and had been relied upon by no less a man than Stonewall Jackson himself. All this Clavering knew, as he knew most of the contemporary history of his own country. âAnd that charming young lady,â he asked after a moment, âwas your daughter?â âYes, my only child and as good as she is beautiful. May I ask if Mrs. Clavering is alive? I remember her as a most worthy woman.â âYes,â answered Clavering, shortly. âNow will you come with me to one of the upâtown hotels and have a smoke and a drink? In the old days when I was a sutler and you were a captain, I should have known better than to ask you; but I never expected to remain a sutler always. I have made money in the West, and I have ambitions of various sorts. Some day you will hear of me.â âNothing,â said General Brandon, impressively, âshould be or is, in this country, out of reach of any man with brains and solid worth.â The General himself was an aristocrat from the crown of his head to the sole of his feet, but he never dreamed of it. âAnd some education,â added Clavering. He knew his man thoroughly. âBrains are the first requisite, and solid worth is all very well. But a man must have some other qualifications. A man must know something beyond the common school of his youth and the bigger common school of his manhood, in order to make a lasting impression on his time. Of course I donât include geniuses in this category, but men of talent only. I have not what I call education, but I have the next best thing to it. I know my own limitations. I have a boy on whom I shall put a twentyâthousandâdollar education, but I am very much afraid that he is a twentyâdollar boy.â General Brandon did not exactly understand this, and Clavering said no more about his boy. They walked off together, and in a little while they were seated in the lobby of an upâtown hotel and Clavering was telling the story of his lifeâor what he chose to tell of itâto General Brandon. It was not an instinctive outpouring of the truth, but as a matter of fact Clavering was rehearsing for the rÃ´le he intended to play in a few yearsâ time,âthat of the rich man who has hewn his way through a great forest of difficulties and has triumphed in the end. He was astute enough not to despise men of General Brandonâs stamp, simple, quiet, brave, having little knowledge of affairs but perfectly versed in ethics. Clavering in short knew the full value of a gentleman, although he was not one himself. They sat late, and when the General reached his own door in a tall old house far up town, Elizabeth was just descending from Mrs. Luttrellâs carriage, escorted by Richard Baskerville. âOh, papa,â she said, running up the steps, her white muslin skirts floating behind her, âI have had the most glorious evening.â She was quite unaware that the hour of fate had struck for her, and that she had entered the portals of destinyâa new and strange destiny. _Chapter Two_ Pelham and Darrell had reckoned upon spending three weeks in Washington, but it became a full month. They were practically adopted by Mrs. Luttrell, and found her large, handsome, oldâfashioned house a centre of the best society, where they saw all that was worth seeing in Washington. At their own Embassy they soon became favorites, and it was after a ball there that a revelation came to Pelham. He had seen Elizabeth Brandon every day of their stay in Washington, and every day she had absorbed a little more of his strong, reserved, and silently controlled nature and had gained an inch or two in his reserved, tender, but devoted heart. He discovered that Elizabeth had both goodness and intelligence as well as charm and beauty. She was very young to him,âthat is, in his own thirty years he had seen and known, realized and suffered, ten times more than Elizabeth during her twenty years of life. He recognized in her a naturally fine mind and taste for reading, a delightful and subtle power of accommodating herself to the mode and manner of any man she wished to please. How attractive this would make her to the man she loved and married! The thought almost dazzled Pelhamâs strong and sober brain. He saw that she was a little intoxicated with the new wine of life, her beauty, her grace and popularity; she was quite unburdened with the cares and anxieties of richer girls who wore finer gowns and sighed for the partners who crowded around Elizabeth. Pelham was not in the least disturbed by the fact that Darrell had fallen violently in love with Elizabeth and proclaimed it to him a dozen times a day. It was Darrellâs normal condition to be violently in love with some pretty girl; but frankly admitting that his pay and allowance were not enough for one, much less for two, there was small danger of his actually committing himself, so Pelham thought. Nor did he observe any difference in Elizabethâs acceptance of Darrellâs attentions from those of any other man whom she likedâher manner was uniformly flattering and complaisant; in truth, he had very little conception of Elizabethâs feminine power of concealment. On the night of the ball at the British Embassy, Pelham, on his return to his hotel, sat in his own room, smoking and turning over an important question in his mind, which was âwhen should he ask Elizabeth Brandon to marry him.â He had not much to offer her in a worldly point of view. His own position was good, but no better than hers, and he discovered that General Brandon, who had been to England once or twice, had hobnobbed with persons of higher rank even than the peer of the realm who was grandfather to both Darrell and himself; but Pelham realized with an admiration as deep as his love that Elizabeth was not the woman to marry for either money or position. He was reflecting on what he should say to General Brandon next day, before speaking to Elizabeth, for he had oldâfashioned notions as to the rights of fathers. He was wondering, in case Elizabeth accepted him, how General Brandon would take the proposition that she should come out to India and marry him there after the English fashion, and was in doubt whether General Brandon would fall on his neck and embrace him or kick him downstairs. While he was considering these things, the door opened and Darrell walked in. He threw himself in a chair close to Pelham and, closing his eyes, went into a revery. Pelham looked at him goodhumoredly. No doubt he was dreaming about Elizabeth. He was a handsome fellow, no denying that, and candor, courage, and honesty were writ large all over him. Presently he roused himself, and leaning over towards Pelham, and blushing like a girl, for the first time in his life, he said in a whisper, âShe loves me.â Pelham received a shock such as he had never known before. He knew Darrellâs sincerity and real modesty too well to doubt him, and his mind took in immediately and quietly the calamity to himself which Darrellâs words implied. He sat still, so still that Darrell shook him. âDo you hear, old man? It was all settled toânight at the ball, not two hours ago, behind a big hydrangea in a flowerâpot, and youâve got to help me out. I am to see the Ambassador toâmorrow and ask him to cable for two weeksâ additional leave, so we can be married before sailing.â Yes, with Pelham the dream was over, the fairy palace had crumbled. The heavenly music had dissolved in air. The world had suddenly grown bleak and cold and commonplace, but pride and common sense still remained. âIt seems to me,â said Pelham, in a quiet voice, after a pause, âthat there isnât much left for me to do. You andâMiss Brandon have agreed, and the Ambassador can no doubt get you two weeks more leaveââ Pelham stopped with a choking in his throat which he had never felt before in all his life. âBut why donât you congratulate me?â cried Darrell. They had been like brothers all their lives, and Pelham was to Darrell his other self; while Darrell was to Pelham a younger brother whose excellence of heart and delicacy of soul made up for a very meagre understanding. âI do congratulate you,â said Pelham, grasping Darrellâs hand, the old habit of love and brotherly kindness overwhelming him. âI think Miss Brandon the most charming girl I ever knew. Any man is fortunate to get her. But I donât think you are half good enough for her, Jack.â âThat is just what I think,â answered Darrell, with perfect sincerity. âBut no man is good enough for her as far as that goes, and I am not the man to be running away from an angel; but there are lots of things to be attended to. I must give my whole time to Elizabeth, and I cannot ask the Ambassador to see about transportation, tickets, and transferring luggage. You must do that, and pay for it all; and I will pay you back when we get our respected auntâs fortuneâfifty years or more from toâday.â âOf course I shall do all that is necessary,â replied Pelham, âand there will be plenty to do. Getting married is heavy business, and taking a girl away to India at a fortnightâs noticeâHow did you have the courage to ask so much of such a woman?â âI donât know. It happened, thatâs all, and I was in heaven. I shall be there again toâmorrow morning at eleven oâclock, when I shall see Elizabeth.â He spoke her name as if it were a saintâs name. The two men sat talking for an hour or two. Darrellâs manner in speaking of his acceptance by Elizabeth was not gushing, but expressed a deep and sincere passion, which he told Pelham, with perfect simplicity, was the first and only love of his life; and Pelham believed him. After parting from Darrell, Pelham sat up until dawn, wrestling with his own heart; but when the day broke he had conquered his anguish. He saw that Elizabeth had possibly entered upon a thorny path by marrying Darrell. He saw all the pitfalls which awaited a young and beautiful woman, the wife of a subaltern in a foot regiment in India. He foresaw that Elizabethâs charming freedom of manner, her flattering attitude towards men of all sorts and conditions, which might answer well enough in America, would probably be misunderstood by others more or less strict than herself, and he determined to be her friend, and felt sure that she would soon need one. Darrell was the best fellow alive, but he was not the man to manage that complicated problem, a pretty, vivacious, innocent, intelligent, admirationâloving American girl, without family or friends, cast loose at an Indian station. In the afternoon of that day, Pelham paid his first call on Elizabeth as the prospective bride of Darrell. He thought her more loveâcompelling in her new relation of a promised bride than he had ever seen her before; her shyness, her pallor, her tears, her deep feeling, her constant remembrance of what her father would suffer, endeared her to Pelham, and yet her willingness, like the Sabine women of old, to go with the man she loved was deeply touching. It was a deliciously oldâfashioned love match, both Elizabeth and Darrell looking forward to an uninterrupted honeymoon for the rest of their livesâElizabeth quite as much so as Darrell. Pelham at this interview was kindness and sympathy itself, and even in the midst of her dream of love Elizabeth felt the serious value of such a friendship as this quiet, silent, rather ugly young officer, sparing of words, but full of tact, was offering her. When Pelham came out of the shabby old house which was Elizabethâs home, he met General Brandon face to face on the steps. Pelham grasped his hand cordially. He felt acutely for the poor father who had to give up such a daughter, to go upon such a lifelong journey. Something prompted Pelham to say, âI congratulate my friend and cousin Darrell with all my heart, but for you who are to give up your daughter, I can only say that I feel for you more than I can express.â âYou should congratulate me, too,â replied General Brandon, gently. âIt was written that I should have to give up my child, and since it had to be, I am glad to give her to a man as admirable in every way as Captain Darrell.â General Brandon would have said this about any sonâinâlaw not an absolute blackguard. But accidentally he happened to be right, for Darrell was indeed admirable in many ways. âShe will go far from me,â said the General, with a sudden break in his voice, âbut that a father must be prepared for. May she be happy,âthat is all I ask. Captain Darrell came to see me this morning and mentioned settlements. At the words I was somewhat offended, not being used to having such matters mentioned in connection with marriage; but I speedily found that his intentions were most generous, he merely wanted to give my daughter everything he had. On my part I endowed my daughter with all I had, seven bonds of the Egyptian government, for which I paid a thousand pounds in English money, the best part of what I received during my service with the Khedive Ismail. I believe they would now bring very little in the market, but no doubt in the course of time the Egyptian government will meet all of its obligations in full. We must not lose our faith, my dear Pelham, in human nature. I also wished to make over to my daughter the equity in my house, for I have never been able to pay off the mortgage which I acquired when I bought it; but this Captain Darrell most generously refused to accept. And when he told me that his pay and allowances would amount to something like five hundred pounds a year, I felt that it should be quite enough to support
{'title': 'Mrs. Darrell by Foxcroft Davis', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}