CHAPTER LXVIII.

A CLEW AT LAST.

The morning that followed was beautiful. The Lady Doris felt more cheerful than she had done for many long days. Earle would manage it all for her; she should find a way out of all her difficulties. Lord Vivianne would not follow her to Linleigh; even if he did, she could foil him again and again. When once she was Earle's wife, she could defy him; it was not likely that she would fear him then.

Her heart and spirits rose alike, she smiled at her own fair image in the glass; early as it was, a fragrant bouquet of white hyacinths lay on the toilet table, sent by some adoring lover who evidently hoped that the flowers would say for him what he could not say for himself. She smiled over them, inhaling the rich odor with delight, thinking to herself the while, "What a poet Earle is; what a rapture he went into last night about flowers and summer."

She felt better. The sun was shining in at her windows, the sweet breath of the hyacinths reached her. It seemed impossible that sorrow or death should come into such a bright world. She smiled to herself when she heard that Earle was with her father.

"He has most certainly lost no time," she said to herself.

Yet, nearly an hour passed before the earl left the library; then, owing to strangers being present, he could not speak to her of what had passed. He merely touched her hand.

"Doris," he said, "I have been having a long talk with Earle, and I must have one with you before dinner."

"I will remember, papa," she said.

Then as the day was so fine Earle prayed her to ride out with him.

"An hour in the park would be so pleasant," he said.

And Lady Linleigh thought the same. Doris was quite willing to go.

When they were under the shade of the trees, Earle went more slowly.

"My darling," he said, "I knew that you would be anxious to hear what has passed. I think," he continued, bringing his handsome face on a level with hers, "I think that I shall make an excellent diplomatist in time."

"I never doubted it," replied Doris.

"I was quite pleased with myself," Earle went on to say; "I made quite an impression on the earl."

Her lips grew pale, and parted with a long, quivering sigh; she looked at him anxiously.

"In one word, Earle, is it to be as I wished or not?"

"Yes," he replied, "in every particular."

Then she resigned herself to listen.

"I never mentioned you at all in the matter," he continued. "I told him that I had observed your health and strength failing, and that I felt quite convinced, unless you rested at once, you would suffer seriously from the effects of over-fatigue. He agreed with me, and said that Lady Linleigh had remarked the same thing, and was equally anxious over you; and said that the wisest thing to do was to leave town at once, and go to Linleigh."

"But would he and Lady Linleigh be willing to give up the remainder of the season?" she asked.

"They care more for you than for the season," he replied. "My opinion is, that Lady Linleigh secretly enjoys the idea of leaving town."

"And about--you know what I mean, Earle."

"About our wedding, darling? It is to be in the sweet summer-time, that is, if you are willing. I urged it; and the countess joined me. Lord Linleigh--Heaven bless him!--did not raise the least objection. He said he would speak to you, and was perfectly kind and good about it; it will be for you to tell him, dear, your wish to have it all managed very quietly, and to speak of going abroad. Now, is not that glorious news for a bright sunshiny day? How green the trees are, and how blue the sky! Was the world ever so fair, love--ever one-half so fair?"

Suddenly he saw her start, and looking at her, saw an angry flush on her face, a bright light in her eyes. She was looking intently at some one who returned the glance with interest.

Following the direction of her eyes, Earle saw Lord Vivianne watching her most intently. There was a smile that was yet half a sneer on his lips, he was talking to a gentleman whom Earle instantly recognized as Colonel Clifford.

"There is your _bete noir_, Doris--Lord Vivianne," he said.

"I see him," she replied, quietly.

He did not know the hot impulse that was on her, he did not understand why she clinched the little jeweled whip so tightly in her hand. She would have given the whole wide world if she dare have ridden up to him, and have given him one stroke across the face with her whip--one stroke that would have left a burning red brand across the handsome, insolent face! She would have gloried in it. She could fancy how he would start and cry out, the coward!--how he would do his best to hide the shameful mark given to him by a woman's hand.

In all her life Lady Doris Studleigh never had such difficulty in controlling an impulse as she had in controlling that.

Then she was recalled to herself by a bow from Lord Vivianne and a look of unqualified wonder on her lover's face.

"Doris," he said, "my dear child, what are you going to do to Lord Vivianne? You look inclined to ride over him."

"So I am," she replied, with a smile.

But the beauty of the morning had gone for her--there was no more warmth in the sunshine, no more fragrance in the flowers and trees, no music in the birds' song; the sight of that handsome face, with its evil meaning, had destroyed it all, had made her heart sink. Oh! to be away from him, where she should never see him or hear of him again.

"I am tired, Earle," she said.

"Tired so soon!" he replied.

But one look at her told him the words were quite true.

"We will ride back again, Doris. Tell me why do you dislike Lord Vivianne so much?"

"I am not sure that I dislike him," she replied.

"You do, sweet; your face quite changed when you saw him."

"Did it? I do not like him because he teases me so with compliments. I dislike many people; he is no great exception."

Earle laughed.

"It is very unfortunate to admire you, Doris, if admiration brings dislike."

They rode home again, while Colonel Clifford turned with a smile to his companion.

"That looks like a settled case," he said.

"What do you mean by a settled case?" was the irritable reply. "I defy any man to understand his own language in these degenerate days."

"A settled case means that, to all appearances the queen of the season, the _feted_, flattered Lady Doris Studleigh is in love with our young poet, the latest London celebrity."

"A young poet?--who is he?" for suddenly there flashed into his mind the words Doris Brace had so poetically used to him:

"My lover is a gentleman and a poet."

At the time he had thought it idle bombast, intended only to heighten her value in his eyes--yet it might have been true. He looked up with unusual interest.

"Who is he, Clifford?" he repeated.

"I can hardly tell you, except that he is Earle Moray, a great _protege_ and favorite of the Duke of Downsbury, of Lord Linleigh, and of the public in general, for he is a charming writer. He is also member for Anderley--he took his seat last week."

"Earle Moray! I am sure I know the name."

"Most English readers do," said Colonel Clifford.

A sudden flash of light seemed to illuminate his mind.

"Earle! Earle! Why that is the name Doris used to murmur in her sleep. She used to dream that Earle was coming--I remember it well. Great Heaven, _it is she_!"

"What is the matter?" asked Colonel Clifford; "you look as though you had seen a ghost."

"So I have, the ghost of my---- Oh, what nonsense I am talking. So that is the young poet; he is a very handsome man. Lady Studleigh is something like the earl. Is it known who her mother was?"

"No. People say that the earl contracted a low marriage before he went abroad, one that he was ashamed to own, therein consists the romance."

"What romance?" asked Lord Vivianne, hurriedly.

"About Lady Doris. The earl, when he was simply Captain Studleigh, married beneath him, went abroad, leaving his daughter to be brought up by some humble friends of his wife. The romance consists, I suppose, in the sudden change in the young lady's fortune, from comparative obscurity to splendor. It might have been an unfortunate thing for the earl, but that the girl turned out to be beautiful, graceful, intelligent, and well bred."

"I have it, by heavens!" cried Lord Vivianne, in a loud voice.

"You have _what_?"

"A--a fly that has been buzzing round me and teasing me half the morning," he replied, confusedly.

"Ah!" said the colonel. "My opinion of you, Lord Vivianne, is not a very complimentary one. I fancy, unless you take better care of your wits, they will leave you. I never saw any one grow so peculiar in all my life. I saw no flies about."

Lord Vivianne made no reply, but went away laughing--it seemed to him now that he held the clew in his hands.

"If I am right," he said to himself, with a bitter sneer, "I will humiliate her: I will lower that magnificent pride of hers; I will change places, and she shall be the wooer. But I must make quite sure first. I will go down to Brackenside this very day."

He kept his word. Much to honest Mark's surprise, when he entered the house that evening, he found a fashionably dressed stranger, bent upon being very agreeable to his wife and daughter.

"You will be surprised to see me," said his wily lordship, "but I was passing through Brackenside and could not help calling. I am quite a stranger. Allow me to introduce myself as Lord Vivianne. You," he continued, holding out his hand to Mark, "are Mr. Brace."

Mark replied in a suitable manner, then sat down, with a look of resignation that highly amused Mattie. If it would rain lords he could not help it. Such wonderful events had happened that Mark felt he should never be surprised again. Then he looked in his lordship's face as though he would fain ask what he wanted there.

"I had the pleasure once--it is some time since--of meeting your daughter, Miss Doris Brace. If she is at home, I should like to see her."

At the first sound of that name, Mark was on the alert. This was just what they had cautioned him about. The earl had bidden him beware of impertinence and curiosity. Mark had passed his word not to speak of Doris' history, and he meant to keep it. "Wild horses," as he expressed it, would not have torn it from him.

"Miss Doris Brace is not at home," he replied, grimly.

"Indeed!" said the stranger. "I am sorry for that; I had relied upon seeing her. Perhaps I may be more fortunate to-morrow."

"I do not think you will," was the reply; "she will not be at home."

"Perhaps, then, the day after?" was the insinuating comment.

"No, nor the day after," replied Mark; "she will not be at home--she is not in Brackenside."

Now my lord had laid all his plans most prudently; he did not intend to compromise himself at all. If the whole affair turned out to be a huge mistake, as it might do, he would not say anything that could prejudice his cause in the least. No harm could possibly arise if he said that he had met Miss Doris Brace; he had seen her at the Castle; and if hardly pushed he could quote that meeting. But the farmer was a very fortress--he returned none but the most simple, vague, and honest answers, saying that she was not at home, she would not be at home, but looking most amiably deaf when any allusion was made to change of fortune.