Mrs. Bowen

“ I should think he would hate the place."
"Yes," said the girl, with a quivering sigh; "it must be hateful to him." She paused, and then she rushed on with bitter self-reproach. "And I—I have helped to make it so! O Mrs. Bowen, perhaps it's I who have been trifling with him. Trying to make him believe—no, not trying to do that, but letting him see that I sympathised—Oh, do you think I have?"
"You know what you have been doing, Imogene," said Mrs. Bowen, with the hardness it surprises men to know women use with each other, they seem such tender creatures in the abstract. ”

“ She sat up, shaking her furs to the floor. "I care only for my husband."
The coach rattled and shook and the lamp-wick leaped and flickered.
"Only for my husband—and if his share in this is discovered it means ruin—if not death—to him."
The very words seemed to come with an effort from her tongue; she blenched at the bare thought of the possibility she spoke of.
"I shall not mention your husband's name," said Jerome Caryl.
"If ye put them on the track they will discover for themselves." ”

“ Bowen!"
"Then I want you to listen to me, and answer me frankly, and not suspect my motives."
"Why, how could I do that?"
"Never mind!" cried Mrs. Bowen impatiently, almost angrily. "People can't help their suspicions! Do you think Mr. Morton cares for you?"
The girl hung her head.
"Imogene, answer me!"
"I don't know," answered Imogene coldly; "but if you're troubled about that, Mrs. Bowen, you needn't be; I don't care anything for Mr. Morton."
"If I thought you were becoming interested in any one, it would be my duty to write to your mother and tell her." ”

“ Bowen.”
“I think she has known it some time,” said Moya, “and kept it to herself.”
“Mrs. Bowen!”
“Your mother. Isn't it terrible? Think how Chrissy must have needed her. They need each other so! Christine was her constant thought. How can all that change in one year! But she cannot go to Banks Bowen's house without an invitation. We must go to New York and make her come with us—we must open the way.”
“Yes,” said Paul, “I have seen it was coming. In the end we always do the thing we have forsworn.” ”

“ She turned as some one standing on defense.
"What do you mean?"
A slight smile crossed his face; it might have been sadness or contempt; he leaned heavily against the Abbey wall and his shadow was over Delia.
"What do I mean?" he repeated; he looked at her in a very gentle manner. "I mean I should like to be in your thoughts sometimes—"
She rose, and her muff fell unnoticed between them. ”

“ As she spoke the Countess lifted her eyes to a portrait over the bureau, it was of Sir John and taken in his May of life; he wore a cuirass and plumed hat and smiled out of the canvas, as handsome a face as a man may have.
His wife followed the Countess's glance.
"He is not like that now," she said bitterly. She rose. "Did you ever hate any one, madam?" she asked. Then, without waiting, she answered herself. "It is terrible to hate," she said hoarsely. "And terrible to be hated."
She turned wildly about and caught up the cage of bullfinches. ”

“ He rose from his seat. "I want you, yourself—Venus as well as the apple, my dear."
She was breathing painfully.
"You—you would suggest I go with you?"
"Yes."
"You—you think I will?"
"By God! I think so."
Her fingers had closed over the chain across her bosom; she saw how he watched this.
"What else am I to steal from Sir Gilbert for you?" she asked; she moved away from him, but he leaned forward and caught at her glittering dress where the cloak fell aside.
"Are we to palter here until the old man sees us? Sophie, I am tired of England. Come with me back to France." ”

“ It's nothing for you to lose a friend at your age; but at mine——"
"I know it, Mrs. Bowen."
"And I wouldn't even shake hands with him when he was going; I——"
"Oh, I don't see how you could be so hard!" cried Imogene. She put up her hands to her face, and broke into tears. Mrs. Bowen watched her, dry eyed, with her lips parted, and an intensity of question in her face.
"Imogene," she said at last, "I wish you to promise me one thing."
"Yes."
"Not to write to Mr. Colville again."
"No, no; indeed I won't, Mrs. Bowen!" The girl came up to kiss her; Mrs. Bowen turned her cheek. ”

“ She interrupted: "Sir—I do not think you have failed to find those who would answer that question."
"Ah, let me speak," he said gently, "let me say that I do find you made to be loved—"
"Sir! do you usually so play with words with every stranger?" she cried.
"Why, never before," he smiled, "and are we strangers—did you not say we had one creed—one King—one aim?"
"Ah, I do think you palter with me!" cried Delia with the distress of one drawn and netted against her will. "Mr. Caryl is late—"
"I would he were later," said Mr. Wedderburn. ”

“ Her manner suddenly changed; she moved away with a gay smile.
"Why, I was sure you had seen me, Captain Wedderburn. When you have been out for your lonely rides, I have been near you more than once."
"On my soul, madam——"
"Have you never seen a horsewoman coming through the mist in the afternoon, when you have been abroad, sir?"
"Never, madam."
"Why, you must be in love to notice so little as that! Why, it is a bad look-out for the Prince you'll be!"
He blushed with vexation, but, beat his brains as he would, he could not recall having seen any horsewomen when he had been abroad. ”

“ A bitter little smile curved the Cardinal's lips.
"Is that the way men care for women?" he said. "Certes, not in that manner had I wooed and remembered, had I been a—a—lover."
"Strange that we, meeting here like this, should talk of love!" cried Theirry, his heart heaving, his eyes dilating, "strange that I, driven round the world by fear of God, that I, coming here to one of God's own saints, should find myself in the Devil's net again; come, he has done much for you, what will he do for me?" ”

“ The Master of Stair flushed darkly and put his hands to his black velvet cravat as if he would have torn it in rage.
"Who told you that?" he exclaimed fiercely.
"Does it matter?" she answered. "I know, and all England shall know. And you will not dare to touch them—not even you."
"Who told you," he repeated thickly. "What spies have I about my affairs? Who told you?"
Delia laid her hand on the door.
"You can arrest us all," she said quietly. "You can go to the furthest limits of your law, use your foully-won triumph, but you cannot prevent this truth from circling London." ”

“ Mary shook her head.
"I cannot. I cannot sleep until I get a letter."
"You neither sleep nor eat," protested the Dutch lady.
"I am very well," smiled Mary sadly. "Go to bed, like a good creature——"
"Indeed, Madam, I will not leave you in this state."
"Have you been with me so long that you become disobedient? Very well, put out some of the candles—the light hurts my eyes."
Basilea de Marsac rose softly and extinguished all the candles, save those on the mantelshelf. The large rich chamber was full of grateful shadow. Mary's yellow gown gleamed secretively like gold through a veil. ”

“ Imogene sat motionless and silent. Mrs. Bowen broke out again with a sort of violence; the years teach us something of self-control, perhaps, but they weaken and unstring the nerves. In this opposition of silence to silence, the woman of the world was no match for the inexperienced girl. ”

“ Swift and noiseless they descended the steps and passed under the shadows of the high rustling trees; then Honoria stopped, holding back her mistress.
"You can't run away now," she said with an air of resolution, "whatever has happened, my lady; why, you have neither mantle, nor hat, nor money—and who is to shelter you till the coach goes, here in a strange place?" ”

“ Bowen's I used to think that it was Miss Graham in whom he was interested——"
"I can assure you," interrupted Colville, "that she was never interested in him."
"Oh no; I didn't suppose that," returned the old man tranquilly. "And I've since had reason to revise my opinion. I think he is interested in Mrs. Bowen."
"Mrs. Bowen! And you think that would be a mitigating circumstance in his acceptance of money from her? If he had the spirit of a man at all, it would make it all the more revolting."
"Oh no, oh no," softly pleaded Mr. Waters. "We must not look at these things too romantically. ”

“ The Earl turned to the door.
"I will go find Marius," he said shortly, and left them.
"Rose is out of humour," remarked his mother.
"Yes," said Susannah abruptly.
The Countess looked absently at the reflection of her frail charming person in the mirror by the bookcase.
"And no wonder, my dear, all day shut up in a coach with that girl! And Rose of all men!" She laughed, half under her breath.
Miss Chressham glanced at her in a kind of shock.
"What do you think of her?" she asked.
"She is impossible!" answered the Countess at once. "Gauche, vapourish, no style, a little sullen, I think. ”

“ Bowen, in reward of the girl's acquiescence.
"You're rather out of the way of it up here," said Colville. "You had better let me go about with the young ladies—if you can trust them to the care of an old fellow like me."
"Oh, I don't think you're so very old, at all times," replied Mrs. Bowen, with a peculiar look, whether indulgent or reproachful he could not quite make out.
But he replied, boldly, in his turn: "I have certainly my moments of being young still; I don't deny it. There's always a danger of their occurrence." ”

“ Though a clergyman, Alexander Bowen was not above mercenary impulses, and the mere reference, whether it had been meant or not, to a jeweled chalice made him unwilling to disapprove of anything such an influential hostess might do or say. [Pg 25]
"Iris owes so much to her aunt," the rector said smilingly, "of course she takes such little jests in good part."
"She'd better," and Ursula Pell nodded her head; "if she knows which side her bread is buttered, she'll kiss the hand that strikes her."
"If it doesn't strike too hard," put in Mrs. Bowen, unable to resist some slight comment. ”

“ He stopped, waiting; they stood in so dark a shadow that she could only see the outline of his figure.
"About the Macdonalds of Glencoe," she said. "I would ask you to help me save them."
Her voice fell very tenderly.
"I have a great reason to wish to save them," she continued. "There is one among them whom I thought—ah, I thought—" She laughed happily—"I thought I cared for till I met you—no one knew—but I believed I cared—yet it was only pity and loneliness—yet did I vow to save him—and now—do not you see? Out of loyalty to that old vow of mine, I am pledged to save him still." ”

“ Dirk looked at him with lowering eyes. "You had been content had you not met this lady."
"Enough of her," answered Theirry wearily. "You make too much of it. I do not think I love her; but one who is fallen must view such sweetness, such gentle purity with sorrow—yea, with yearning."
"Maybe she is neither so pure nor so gentle as you think. Certes! she is but as other women, as one day ye may see."
Theirry turned from the window half in protest, half in excuse. "Cannot you understand how one may hold a fair thing dear—how one might worship—-even—love?" ”

“ We have always disliked each other; do not have the hypocrisy to disclaim it."
"You are my lord's wife," interrupted Miss Chressham, withdrawn again into a cold reserve, and armed with angry pride.
"My lord's wife!" repeated the Countess Lavinia. "That to you, and no more. My lord's wife to be reclaimed like a straying dog and sent back shivering to my post! [232] My lord's wife! But I am more, madam; I am a woman."
She rose impetuously and leant against the spinet, her muslin ruffles touching the white roses.
"What's to do?" muttered Marius. ”

“ Even this confinement irks me. If I live, I shall go back to my ambitions.”
“Something is wrong,” said Carola; “you or I—or God.”
“Why?” he answered, with a grave gentleness. “I thought you had found happiness.”
“I have found an opiate, Monsieur.”
They were both silent; then she turned towards the door.
Her splendid dress was as incongruous here as it had been in the wet fields; it jarred on Luc to see her in such surroundings.
He turned suddenly and followed her. “You beautiful, foolish woman,” he cried, “what are you doing in a convent? Go back to Versailles.” ”

“ And she leant across the gold and red cushions towards him. "Certes, you shall have your long straight maiden. I think her heart is as chill as yours."
He moved away from her. "Ye shall not mock me, Princess," he said fiercely. "My heart is hot enough, let me be." ”

“ William rose and gave her one look as she closed the door, then lowered his eyes as he spoke.
"Madame, Mr. Herbert cometh from England with an invitation to me from my friends there to go there with a force to protect the laws and the religion——"
"Ah!" exclaimed Mary; she came straight to the table and dazzled in the candlelight. Mr. Herbert looked at her, and noticed only her comeliness; he was not a man to distinguish types or degrees in beauty. If a woman were pretty, to him she was nothing more, and the prettier she was the less he credited her with sense or strength. ”

“ He blushed that she should see his weakness, and mastered himself sufficiently to step to her stirrup.
“I found a lodging in Pürgitz,” she said, “and food; but there has been great suffering among your men.”
Her attire was the same as when he had seen her last—barbaric and splendid, dark furs, scarlet powdered with gold, turquoise velvet and crimson satin; her face was pinched and sallow, but her eyes were clear and expressive under the thick long lashes.
“I wish we had no women with us,” said the Marquis faintly. ”