Outlaw and Lawmaker/Chapter 24
CHAPTER XXIV.
"GOOD-BYE, ELSIE VALLIANT."
Lord Horace's evening at the club and Minnie Pryde's confidences to her after-supper partners had spread the news of Elsie's engagement far and wide. At the meeting of the Assembly the next afternoon, Frank Hallett was congratulated both by his own side and by several members of Mr. Torbolton's ministry.
"I thought it was going to be one of my colleagues," said the Premier, with a significant look at Blake; "but this is much better, and I congratulate you heartily."
Frank did not ask Mr. Torbolton why this was much better, since presumably Mr. Torbolton should have wished his colleague to be preferred in any suit on which he had set his heart, but accepted the congratulations in a grave reserved manner which was not much like that of a triumphant lover. He took his seat, and went about his business, and even made a speech, and all the time there was present with him the wonder whether it was really himself—Frank Hallett—who was seated in that house on the front Opposition bench, which was next best to being in the ministry, Elsie's affianced husband, having gained his dearest wishes both of the head and of the heart, and altogether the most fortunate of men, and if so why he did not feel more elated at his success. Perhaps the reason lay in the fact that Morres Blake was sitting opposite to him. Morres Blake made a speech, too. All his speeches were brilliant, but this was more than usually so. As he listened, Frank Hallett had a dull sense of defeat and disappointment. He did not grudge his rival the glory, but was glad that Elsie was not there to listen to his eloquence. Perhaps it was remorse for his pettiness that made him congratulate Blake when, later on, he passed him in the lobby.
"I hear that I have to congratulate you on a different and far more important matter," said Blake, after he had thanked him. "I think you have won a prize, and I do congratulate you in sincerity."
He did not wait for Hallett's answer, but turned away with an abruptness that was out of keeping with his ordinary courteous self-command.
Another of Elsie's admirers received the news that day. This was Trant. He heard it at Fermoy's on his arrival there early in the afternoon. Some business had detained him at Baròlin, and he had not arrived in time for the Government House ball. It was Lord Horace who gave him the intelligence. Lord Horace was loafing about the verandah, looking rather the worse for his late evening. He observed with a mischievous amusement the red flush that mounted to Trant's cheek, and took a delight in aggravating his discomfiture. Lord Horace was quite aware that Trant was one of the number of Elsie's hopeless admirers.
"Yes, it is quite settled. I think very likely the marriage will be soon. We are all delighted. She couldn't have done better, you know—not even if you had been the favoured individual, you know, Trant. You ought to go and offer your congratulations."
"Yes, I will," said Trant, sulkily.
"We've had a stunnin' time, almost as good as the Goondi election," continued Lord Horace. "The Prince's visit has wakened up Leichardt's Town a bit. Now we've all got to go back to the nursery, like the good children that have come in to dessert. I say, you must help me to get up something for Waveryng. They're coming up to the Dell, you know; a kangaroo battue, or a bushranging lark, something typical and Australian, not that Waveryng has much notion of the value of local colour."
Trant gave an odd sort of laugh. "I daresay Moonlight would oblige you if he knew what you wanted."
"Moonlight has laid low this full moon," said Lord Horace. "Well, think it out, Trant, and in the meantime you go and wish Miss Valliant joy, and if you see my wife there, tell her, will you, that I want her."
Trant went off. It was a little before the hour of Elsie's verandah reception, but he thought he should have more chance of finding her alone. Lady Horace was there, and the two sisters were sitting in the verandah in earnest conclave when he arrived. It struck him that Lady Horace looked very pale and ill, and that she had been crying. Elsie was flushed and excited. She laughed gaily when she saw Trant, and came forward with outstretched hand. Perhaps she was pleased to be relieved from the tête-à-tête with Ina.
"Why didn't you come down for the ball?" she asked.
"I was kept on business," said Trant. "You don't suppose I didn't want to be at the ball, did you, Miss Valliant?"
"I don't know," said Elsie. "It was a very good ball—at least so they said."
"Why do you say 'they said'?" asked Trant. "Weren't you there?"
"Oh, yes ; I was there, and I fulfilled my mission of making the Leichardt's Town ladies jealous. The Prince danced with me, and he did not dance with any other of the girls. Ina was honoured; but then she is not a Leichardt's Town girl now. He didn't dance with any of the others, did he, Ina?"
"No," said Ina, "he danced with no one else—of the girls."
"There. Think of that, Mr. Trant! It may be written on my tombstone! 'She danced with a Prince.' There was nothing possible for me after that. I came away. That's why I don't know much about the ball."
Trant looked mystified. "Is it true?" he said.
"Is what true?"
"You know well enough; what they are saying everywhere. At Fermoy's they can talk of nothing else."
"Yes, it is true. Ina, you are not going?"
"By the way, Lord Horace told me to tell you that he wanted you," said Trant; "it seems rather a blunt way of putting it, Lady Horace. I give the message as it was given."
Ina took up her gloves and parasol. "It is to settle about going up to the Dell. Elsie, you will come?"
"Oh, yes," said Elsie. "Anything for a change. Goodbye, Ina dear. I shall see you in the evening."
Trant stood looking at Elsie.
"Why don't you sit down? You make me nervous."
"Come down to the boathouse," he said. "I want to ask you something."
"Well, there is a horrid glare here," replied Elsie, coolly. "If you like, we'll go to the steps."
When they were seated, she said: "What is it? Please be melodramatic. Please be interesting. Please do something that will make me for the moment think of you and nobody else."
"Does that mean that you are thinking of somebody else in a way that is disagreeable?"
"Yes."
"That's a strange confession for a young lady who has just gone and got herself engaged. It can't be of Mr. Frank Hallett that you are thinking?"
"What does that matter to you?" said Elsie. "I suppose I may pity Mr. Hallett, if I like?"
"Upon my soul," said Trant, "I think he is even more to be pitied than I am."
"I don't think you are to be pitied at all. What is it that you wanted to ask me?"
"What has Blake got to do with this?" he said.
Elsie flushed more deeply than before. "I would rather, if you please, that Mr. Blake should be left out of the question. I think I have said that before."
"Yes, you have. I warned you, remember. Now look here, you said I might be melodramatic. You remember what I said to you here, not very long ago? I told you that I always succeeded in what I had set my mind on."
"I remember that you threatened to carry me off, and that it wasn't quite settled whether you were to perform that feat—you'll have to have a good horse, Mr. Trant, for I am very heavy—at one of the Leichardt's Town tennis parties, or at the Government House ball, or if I am to be imprisoned in one of the Luya gorges—do you recollect that?"
"Yes, I recollect, and I meant it. I warn you. I am not a man to stand tamely by and let another man carry off the girl he loves; especially when she doesn't love that other man. You in love with Frank Hallett, that stolid lump of respectability! You are meant for something different, Elsie. You are meant for life, for adventure, for emotion. You were meant to be a poet's inspiring angel, or the brave companion of a hero's reckless deeds."
"I—I have heard something like that before," said Elsie faintly. "But it was not you who said it."
"It was Blake. And he has said it to me. Blake has got blood in his veins: he understands you. Blake and I are alike in more ways than one. We are alike anyhow in understanding you. But you weren't meant for Blake, Miss Valliant. He wouldn't marry you if he could. He has told me to 'go in and win,' and I mean to win. Before the year is out, you will be my wife."
"Indeed, Mr. Trant, that is bold prophecy; and now I think you have been melodramatic enough. Let us talk of something else."
"No," said Trant, bending close to her, "not till I have told you again that I love you. I worship the ground you tread on. I worship the flowers you touch. Give me that rose; it can't hurt you to do that—the one you have in your belt. Give it to me," he repeated imperiously.
It seemed to Elsie that his black eyes had something of the compelling power that was in Blake's eyes. They were fixed full on hers, and his hand was outstretched. "Give it to me," he said again.
Almost against her will she took out the flower and gave it to him. He kissed it, and put it away in his breast. "Do you believe that I love you?" he said.
"I suppose that you do in a kind of fashion. I wish you wouldn't. It is of no use, and all this is rather amusing in its way, but what's the use of it? I never gave you any reason to think"
"No, you never gave me any reason to think you could care for me, and, perhaps, that is why I am so madly in love with you, why I would risk heaven to win you; not that I believe much in heaven, except the heaven which you could make for me."
"Mr. Trant," said Elsie with some little dignity, rising as she spoke; "let us be friends, and forget all this. I am sorry for having let you talk to me in the way you have done. I have been a vain, foolish, heartless girl. I have only cared to amuse myself. I am afraid that I have sometimes done it at the expense of others. I want to change. I am going to marry a man whom I respect, and for whom I have the deepest affection. I should like to think that from now I may do nothing that will make me unworthy of him. Let us start afresh, and be friends, and don't say any more melodramatic things."
"I don't want to start afresh," said Trant, doggedly. "I mean to go on as I have begun. I love you, and mean to have you—by fair means, or by foul, if fair won't answer. I warn you. Don't ever say that I didn't. Only one thing I want you to know. You are the thing in the world that I have set my heart on, and I've never failed yet."
Elsie made no answer. She walked slowly back to the cottage, and Trant followed. Mrs. Valliant was in the verandah, and was talking to Minnie Pryde, who, as soon as she saw Elsie, rushed to her with a torrent of congratulations. And, oh, had it been Mr. Hallett who had given her the beautiful star, and would Elsie let her see it again?
No. Elsie was sorry, but she couldn't let Minnie see the star. Elsie had become suddenly grave, and she seemed shy, and altogether, Minnie said afterwards, more like an ordinary engaged girl than one would have imagined possible in Elsie.
Elsie had a great reception that afternoon. Mrs. Jem Hallett appeared, which was a wonderful condescension, but she had learned by some occult means that Lady Waveryng was going to call also. The Waveryng advent had considerably altered Mrs. Jem Hallett's views in regard to this alliance. She was very gracious to Elsie. Of course, she, Elsie, would come and stay at Tunimba. Mrs. Valliant was included in the invitation. And how amusing it would be to have the wedding on the Luya—from the Dell, a real Bush wedding—Lord Horace would manage it so beautifully! Lord Horace was always talking about local colour, and they might have a procession of blacks, and King Tommy, of Yoolaman, at its head. What did Lady Waveryng think of that? and perhaps it might be worth Lord Waveryng's while to put off the New Zealand trip.
Everybody had gone when Frank came. Elsie was grateful to him for the tact which had kept him away. She was grateful, too, for his calm, matter-of-fact way of taking the situation. There were no lover's raptures. He made no claims. It was with bashful humility that he asked to be allowed to put a ring on her finger.
"Everyone will wonder why you haven't an engagement ring," he said, and took it from its case. "I thought you'd like diamonds best," he added, awkwardly. The ring was magnificent. Elsie could hardly have believed that Leichardt's Town could furnish forth anything so perfect. She told him so, and again she held up her face baby fashion for a kiss.
He kissed her with more lingering tenderness than he had done the night before. "Elsie," he said, "there's one thing I want you to understand. Your happiness is first of all things to me; far, far beyond my own. You have given yourself generously, my darling, and you say you won't make any reservations. Well, this is what I want you really to take in and think over. If ever you have any doubts or regrets; if ever you get to feel that you'd be happier with another man, you are as free as though this had never been put on your finger. You've only got to tell me. I'll never reproach you, or make it hard for you. I'll help you all I can and in whatever way I can—if not as your lover and husband, then as your brother."
The tears were in Elsie's eyes. "Frank," she said, "we will never speak again of what I told you the other night. We turn over the leaf, and begin a new page from to-day." Then, as if determined that there should not be any more sentiment, she rattled on about her afternoon's visitors, and Mrs. Jem's cordiality, and the coming visit to the Luya, and the picnic which Frank had promised her.
There was one ordeal which Elsie had to face, and which she dreaded more than anything connected with her engagement. This was the meeting with Blake. The Prince went away the next day, and Blake, in his capacity of minister, went with the Government House party and the officials, and the great people of Leichardt's Town, to see him on board the man-of-war in the bay. Elsie did not go, though upon this occasion she had been invited, and the Prince expressed deep regret at her absence. Ina went with the Waveryngs, as in duty bound, and had the pleasure of discussing her sister's engagement with Lord Astar and receiving his congratulations. She would gladly have avoided him, but it was hardly possible, and Ina did not know what had taken place at the Government House ball. She had only a vague feeling, founded upon something which Lord Horace had indignantly reported of the club gossip, that Elsie had placed herself in a false position by her too open flirtation.
Frank Hallett did not go down to the bay with the other great people of Leichardt's Town. He stayed and spent part of the day with his fiancee. Ina was a good deal left to herself that day, for Lord Horace, to Lady Waveryng's annoyance, was making himself rather unpleasantly conspicuous with Mrs. Allanby. Lord Horace had, as Lord Waveryng put it, a little too much champagne on board. Lady Waveryng had come to the conclusion that the sooner her brother went to the Dell the better. Everybody was a little glad that the royal festivities had come to an end. It was Blake who paid attention to Ina, and saw that she had everything she wanted, and was taken care of. Ina had always disliked Blake. To-day she felt almost tenderly to him. She was certain from the way in which he had alluded to Elsie's coming marriage that he had a tenderness for her, and would, if he could, have married her himself. Ina never stopped to inquire why he could not marry Elsie. It seemed a received fact that Blake was not a marrying man.
It is rather the fashion in Leichardt's Town during the Session for members to pay calls in the morning. Blake walked across the paddock from Fermoy's the next day, and found Elsie alone and in the verandah sewing.
He came so softly that she did not even hear the gate click. When she saw that it was Blake she got up in some confusion, and then sat down again very pale.
"I beg your pardon for coming so early," he said, "I have got to be at the House—that is one of the penalties of being a minister now."
"Yes," she said faintly.
"I want to ask you," he went on, "to forget an episode which I bitterly regret, and to let me be your friend. I asked you the other night not to think too hardly of me. I ask it again now."
"I don't think hardly of you," Elsie answered, in a low voice, not lifting her eyes. "I think hardly of myself. I have had a bitter lesson."
"Poor child!" be exclaimed, in a moved voice; and he turned his face away as if to hide the pain he felt. "You humiliate me," he cried; "you are a noble woman and a true woman. And I—but if you knew everything you would not blame me so much."
"I don't blame you," Elsie said, her voice, too, quavering. "I have told you so. I—I ought to thank you, Mr. Blake," she cried impulsively. "I feel somehow that you didn't want to hurt me, and that you don't quite despise me."
"God knows that is true enough," he said.
"Then," she went on, still with impulsive eagerness, "let us agree to forget all this winter in Leichardt's Town. Let us begin afresh from to-day and be friends—good friends." She held out her hand. He took it in his, and looked at her wistfully.
"You see," she said, embarrassed by his gaze, and trying hard to be calm, "I have made a new beginning for myself. I want to be different and to be more worthy—of—" she hesitated—"of the man I am going to marry."
"Elsie," he cried, "tell me, are you happy?"
"Yes, I am happy," she answered, after a moment's pause and struggling with all in her that was rebellious. "I am happy. Frank Hallett's future wife ought to be happy."
"You are right," he answered. "To me henceforth you will be Frank Hallett's wife; the wife of one of the best fellows that ever lived. You will be no longer Elsie Valliant after to-day. Good-bye, Elsie Valliant."
He raised her hand to his lips, kissed it passionately, and left her without another word.