CHAPTER CLXXXII.

LAURA MORTIMER’S NEW INTRIGUES.

We must now return to Laura Mortimer, whom we left in Paris, and of whom we have lost sight for some time.

It was in the evening of the fourth day after the incidents recorded in the preceding chapter, that Laura was seated in her handsome drawing-room, wrapped up in deep meditation.

Her thoughts were not, however, of a disagreeable nature;--for ever and anon the fire of triumph flashed from her fine eyes, and her rich moist lips were wreathed into a smile.

She held a book open in her hand; but her gaze was fixed upon the ceiling as she lay, rather than sate, on the voluptuous cushions of the purple velvet ottoman.

The windows were open, and a gentle evening breeze, which had succeeded the stifling heat of a Parisian summer-day, fanned her countenance and wantoned with the luxuriant ringlets that floated over her naked shoulders,--those shoulders so white, so plump, so exquisitely shaped!

The perfumes of choice flowers and the odour of ravishing oriental scents rendered the atmosphere fragrant: gold and silver fish were disporting in an immense crystal globe which stood upon a marble table between the casements--and two beautiful canaries were carolling in a superb cage suspended in one of those open windows.

On the table near which Laura was placed, stood several crystal dishes containing the finest fruit that the Parisian market could yield,--the luscious pine, the refreshing melon, strawberries of extraordinary size and exquisite flavour, cherries of the richest red, and mulberries of the deepest purple.

A bottle of champagne stood in a cooler filled with ice; and in the middle of the table was a superb nosegay of flowers.

The entire appearance of the room and its appointments was luxurious in the extreme,--comfort being combined with elegance, and the means of enjoyment distributed with taste;--while she--the mistress of the place--the presiding genius of the scene--was pillowed voluptuously upon the immense velvet cushions. So complete was the abandonment of her attitude, in her deep reverie, that she seemed ten hundred times more charming than when her artifice devised a thousand studied graces in order to effect a conquest and captivate a lover.

One of her naked arms, plump, white, and beautifully formed, lay across her person as the hand held the book, on which the eyes rested not, and against the dark binding of which the taper fingers were set off in the dazzling purity of their complexion and the rosy tint of the almond-shaped nails: the other arm hung down negligently--not quite straight, but gently rounded--the fingers of that hand playing mechanically with the ottoman’s golden fringe that swept the thick carpet. One of her legs lay stretched completely upon the ottoman: the other hung over the side, displaying the well-formed foot, the delicate ankle, and the robust swell of the calf. More voluptuously modelled than Venus, but with all the elegance attributed to the form of that fabled divinity,--handsome as Juno, without the stern imperiousness that characterised the queen of heaven,--and with that subdued nobility of demeanour which Diana, when out of sight of her attendant huntresses, might have been supposed to wear,--Laura Mortimer united in her own person the most fascinating of the charms belonging to the three principal goddesses of heathen worship.

But let us endeavour to ascertain the subject of her thoughts, as she lay thus wrapped up in a deep reverie.

“Fortune appears resolved to favour me, and I accept the auspicious omen with joy. The Marquis is in my power--is my slave--inextricably shackled by my silken chains! Four short days have been sufficient to accomplish this victory. When first introduced to him in the Champs Elysées, I saw that he regarded me with attention--nay, with admiration; and I that moment signalled him out as the man who is destined to place me in a proud position--to render me independent of Charles Hatfield’s hated father! The evening before last I met him for the second time: this was at the party given by my music-master. The nobleman was almost instantly by my side, as soon as I made my appearance; and I knew full well how to gain his favour. When handsome young men approached me, I received them coldly, and continued my discourse with the Marquis in a more animated and friendly style than before. I even hinted to him--or rather suffered him to believe that it was a relief to escape from the frivolities of the average run of conversation, in the indulgence of discourse on intellectual subjects. I saw that the old man was flattered--that he thought highly of me: in a word, I secured his esteem as I had already acquired his admiration. We sate next to each other at supper; and he lavished all his attentions upon me--attentions which I accepted with an air as if they came from a young and handsome gallant. The Marquis handed me to my carriage, and solicited permission to call. I signified an assent with an ingenuousness that could not possibly have seemed affected; and he squeezed my hand slightly as he bade me farewell. On the following afternoon he called: this was yesterday--and he remained a long time. Two hours passed--doubtless like two minutes to him: and I was completely triumphant. Never did I appear to such advantage: my glass told me that I was radiantly beautiful--and I could observe full well that my manner--my conversation--and the delicate artifices I called to aid, were pre-eminently successful. The old man was ready to fall upon his knees and worship me: he was in that humour when he would have laid his whole fortune at my feet. He appeared to be longing to throw his arms around my neck, and exclaim, ‘_Laura, I adore you!_’ But when I had excited him to the highest possible pitch, I suddenly directed his attention to some subject of comparative indifference; and thus did I play with his feelings during two long hours. He went away half crazy--dazzled, bewildered, not knowing what to think or how to act--intoxicated with sensual passions mingling with the purer sentiments of a profound admiration and a cordial esteem. Then this morning he called again, and I made him become my companion at luncheon. I affected to be rejoiced that he had thus unexpectedly dropped in, as I had previously felt low-spirited and dull. He seemed charmed that his presence was calculated to cheer me: It was a delicate compliment paid to his conversational powers--and he was flattered and pleased. Oh! how admirably did I wind myself, as it were, around him during the three hours that he remained with me this morning: how successfully did I insinuate myself, as one may say, into his very soul;--not seizing upon his heart by a sudden attack--but gaining possession of it by means the more sure because so stealthy,--not carrying that heart by storm--but gradually and imperceptibly enmeshing it in snares and toils whence it never can escape, so long as my real character shall remain a mystery to him. Yes--and this morning, too, was he not a thousand times on the point of falling upon his knees, and exclaiming,‘_Laura, I adore you!_’ But still I tantalised him--still I worked him up to the highest possible pitch of excitement, and then suddenly discouraged him by some word or gesture that threw a coldness on all I had before said, and which yet would admit of no positive interpretation so as to render him hopeless altogether. And now he is to return again--this evening,--to return, by his own solicitation;--and this evening--yes--this evening,” thought Laura, her lips wreathing into a smile of triumph,--“he _shall_ fall down at my feet and exclaim, ‘_Laura, I adore you!_’”

Thus ran the meditations of this dangerous woman,--so strong in the consciousness of her almost superhuman beauty--so confident in the power of her matchless charms and in the witchery of her guileful tongue!

“Yes--four days will have been sufficient to reduce the proud English noble to the condition of a captive kneeling at my feet.” she continued, in her silent but triumphant reverie. “What other woman in the world can thus effect a conquest with such amazing rapidity? The tigress hunts for her prey--pursuing the affrighted deer through bramble and through brake--by the margin of the lake in the depths of the forest--amidst the trackless mazes of the wild woods,--a long--tedious--and fatiguing chase, with the possibility of escape for the intended victim after all. But the boa-constrictor fixes its eyes upon its prey--fascinates it--renders it incapable of retreat--compels it even to advance nearer and nearer to its mouth--plays with it--tantalizes it--sets every feeling and every emotion into fluttering agitation--and even when about to gorge it, licks it over with his caresses. And thus do I secure my prey! I am the anaconda amongst women: none whom I choose to make my victim can escape from the influence of my witchery--the sphere of my fascination! With me it is no long, tedious, and wearisome chase: ’tis instantaneous capture and an easy triumph!”

And again the peculiar smile--half haughtiness, half sweetness--returned to the lips of the peerless beauty, who felt herself to be ten thousand times more powerful in the possession of her transcendent charms, than an Amazonian Queen clothed in armour of proof from head to heel.

Suddenly the bell at the outer door of her suite of apartments announced the coming of a visitor; and in a few moments the Marquis of Delmour was ushered into the room.

Laura had already assumed a sitting posture; and she now rose to receive the English nobleman.

“Good evening, charming Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, taking her hand and gently touching it with his lips: then, leading her to the ottoman, and placing himself at a short distance from her, he looked at her tenderly, observing, “You perceive that I am punctual to the hour at which I was to make my appearance according to the kind permission you granted me.”

“Your lordship is most generous thus to condescend to enliven an hour that would otherwise be passed in loneliness by me,” said Laura, bending upon him all the glory of her fine bright eyes and revealing the splendour of her brilliant teeth.

“Beautiful, intellectual, and agreeable as you are, Miss Mortimer,” observed the nobleman, “it is utterly impossible that you can feel yourself indebted to an old man like me for the recreation of a leisure hour. You would only need to throw open your drawing-rooms to the _élite_ of Paris,to be surrounded by admiring guests.”

“And what if I prefer an hour of intellectual conversation to an entire evening of empty formalities, ceremonial frivolities, and the inane routine of fashionable _réunions_?” asked Laura, with an affectation of candour which seemed most real--most natural.

“You possess a mind the strength and soundness of which surprise me,” exclaimed the Marquis of Delmour, enthusiastically. “How is it that, rich and beautiful, young and courted, as you are, you can have taken so just a view of the world,--that you have learnt to prefer solid enjoyments to artificial pleasures,--and that you can so well discriminate between the _real_ on which the gay and giddy close their eyes, and the _ideal_ or the _unreal_ which they so much worship?”

“You would ask me, my lord, I presume, wherefore I dislike that turmoil of fashionable life which brings one in contact with persons who flatter in a meaningless manner, and who believe that a woman is best pleased with him who most skilfully gilds his _pretty nothings_. It is, my lord, because I do not estimate the world according to the usual standard,--because I am not dazzled by outside glitter and external show. If an officer in the army be introduced to me, I am not captivated by his splendid epaulets and his waving plumes: I wait to hear his discourse before I form _my_ estimate of his character.”

“Then neither youth nor riches will prove the principal qualifications of him who shall be fortunate enough to win your hand?” said the Marquis, fixing his eyes in an impassioned manner upon the syren.

“Oh! you would speak to me upon the topic of marriage!” exclaimed Laura, laughing gaily. “To tell your lordship the truth, I should be sorry to surrender up my freedom beyond all possibility of release, to any man in existence.”

“What!” ejaculated the old nobleman: “do you mean me to infer that you will never marry?”

“I have more than half made up my mind to that resolution,” responded Laura, casting down her eyes and forcing a blush to her cheeks.

“Never marry!” cried the Marquis, in unfeigned surprise. “And what if you happened to fall in love with some fine, handsome, eligible young man?”

“In the first place it is by no means necessary that a man should be fine, handsome, or young for me to love him,” answered Laura, as if in the most ingenuous way in the world; “and when I _do_ love, it is not a whit the more imperious that the person or the priest should rivet my hand to that of the object of my affections. It is within the power of man to unite hands--and that is a mockery: but God alone can unite hearts--and that is a solemn and sacred compact that should be effected in the sight of heaven only.”

“I scarcely understand you, beautiful and mysterious being!” exclaimed the Marquis, drawing nearer to the syren, who did not appear to notice the movement.

“I am aware that some of my notions are not altogether in accordance with those of society in general,” observed Laura, with an affectation of reserve and diffidence: “but since the conversation has taken this turn, I do not hesitate to admit that I do hold peculiar opinions with respect to marriage.”

“You would have me understand, Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, “that were you to find your affections enchained by some deserving individual, you would not hesitate to join your destinies to his, without the intervention of the Church to cement the union.”

“Your lordship has interpreted my meaning in language so delicate as to be almost ambiguous,” observed Laura. “And yet why should the truth be thus wrapped up in verbiage? I do not entertain opinions which I am afraid to look in the face. God forbid! In a word, then, I would ten thousand times rather become the mistress of the man I loved, than the wife of him whom I abhorred;--and in loving the former, and with him loving me, is it not that union of hearts which, as I ere now said, should be effected only in the sight of heaven?”

“And have you ever yet loved?” asked the nobleman, in a tone of profound emotion, as he gazed long and ardently upon the splendid countenance whereon the light from the casements now fell with a Rembrandt effect, delineating the faultless profile against the obscurity that had already begun to occupy the end of the room most remote from the windows.

“Oh! my lord, that is a question which you can only ask me when we come to know each other better!” exclaimed Laura, after a few moments’ pause.

“And yet I already feel as if I had known you for as many years as our acquaintance numbers days,” said the Marquis. “Methought yesterday--and this morning too--that a species of intimacy--a kind of impromptu friendship had sprung up between us; and now you are somewhat cold towards me--your manner is not the same----”

“If I have been guilty of any want of courtesy towards your lordship, I should be truly--deeply grieved,” exclaimed Laura, surveying the nobleman with well affected astonishment at the accusation uttered against her.

“Oh! use not such chilling language, Laura--Miss Mortimer, I mean!” cried the old nobleman, half inclined to throw himself at her feet and implore her to take compassion upon him. “But I an mad--I am insane to appeal to you thus!” he continued, in a species of rage against himself. “How can I suppose that the society of an old man like me is agreeable to a young and beautiful creature such as you!--how can I give way to those glorious but fatal delusions that have occupied my brain for the last forty-eight hours! Oh! Miss Mortimer--would that I had never seen you!”

And the old nobleman, covering his face with his hands, literally sobbed like a youthful lover quarrelling with an adored mistress.

“My lord--my lord, what have I done to offend you?” demanded Laura, as if deeply excited; and, seizing his hands, she drew them away from his countenance, well aware that the contact of her soft and warm flesh would make the blood that age had partially chilled, circulate with speed and heat in his veins.

“If you had attempted my life,” replied the Marquis, with fervid emphasis, “I should rejoice at a deed that would elicit such kindness from you as you manifest towards me now!”

And thus speaking, he raised her hands to his lips and covered them with kisses.

“Tell me--how did I offend you?” she asked, in a voice that was melting and musical even to ravishment.

“Oh! let us think not of what has passed,” he exclaimed: “but bless me with the assurance that you can entertain a sentiment of friendship for the old man!”

“I would rather possess your friendship, my lord, than that of the handsomest and wealthiest young gentleman whom we met at the party the other evening,” responded the artful woman, still abandoning her hands to the Marquis. “Did you not observe that I was pleased with your attentions--that I refused to dance in order that I might remain seated next to you, and listening to your conversation--that when the gay moths of fashion approached me with their fulsome compliments, I exhibited signs of impatience, and by my coldness compelled them to retreat--that I gave no encouragement to them in any way----”

“Yes--yes,” interrupted the enraptured Marquis: “I noticed all _that_--and were I a young man I should have felt myself justified in addressing you in the language of passion--aye, of ardent and sincere affection. But--although such are indeed my sentiments towards you--I perceive all the folly and ridicule of daring to give utterance to them in your presence: yet God knows that I am ready to lay my fortune at your feet--and could I offer to place the coronet of a marchioness upon your brow----”

“Were you in the position to do so, I should refuse it,” said Laura, emphatically. “All the rest I might listen to----”

“Then you are aware that I am married?” interrupted the nobleman, fixing an earnest and enquiring gaze upon her beauteous countenance.

“Rumour declares as much,” replied Laura; “and it likewise avers that you are not happy in your matrimonial connexion. I pity you from the bottom of my heart--and I behold in the fact itself a new argument in support of my own peculiar tenets relative to marriage-ties;--for assuredly you are endowed with qualities calculated to render a woman happy--or I am deeply, deeply deceived.”

“Ah! It is a sad tale--and I dare not venture upon the narration now,” said the Marquis, with a profound sigh. “But should our acquaintance continue--as I ardently hope it may--I will some day give you the fullest and most ample explanations. And you yourself, charming creature--is there not some mystery attached to you? How happens it that at your age you should be so well acquainted with the world?--how is it that you seem free to follow the bent of your own inclinations, uncontrolled even by your mother? For rumour declares that you have a mother alive----”

“I am independent of her in a pecuniary point of view, my lord,” interrupted Laura; “and I am determined to consult my own ideas of happiness, instead of adopting the standard of enjoyment and pleasure established by the fashionable world.”

“Would to heavens that it lay in my power to ensure your happiness--or even to contribute to it!” exclaimed the Marquis, gazing upon her with admiration and ardent passion. “Long years have elapsed since I encountered any woman who inspired me with even half the interest that I feel in you; and it seems to me that I become young again when in your sweet society.”

“And, on my side,” answered Laura, casting down her eyes and assuming a bashful demeanour, “I do not hesitate to admit that I experience greater enjoyment from your conversation than from that of any other nobleman or gentleman with whom I am acquainted.”

“Just now, my sweet Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, approaching still nearer to her, and speaking in a tone that was low and tremulous with emotion,--“just now you declared that ‘_all the rest you might listen to_’----”

“And I do not attempt to revoke the admission that thus fell from my lips,” murmured the designing young woman, turning a glance of half-timidity and half-fondness upon the old nobleman, who, in spite of a strong and vigorous intellect, was rendered childish and plunged as it were into dotage by the fascinating--ravishing influence of the syren-enchantress.

“What am I to understand by those words?” he asked, in an ecstacy of delight. “Oh! is it possible that you can become something more to the old man than a mere acquaintance--something more than even a friend----”

“I could wish to retain your good opinion--your esteem for ever!” said Laura, now turning upon him a countenance radiant with hope and joy.

“It is scarcely possible--I am dreaming--’tis a delicious delusion--a heavenly vision!” murmured the Marquis in broken sentences,--for he was dazzled by the transcendant beauty of the houri who seemed to encourage him in the aspirations which he had formed.

“Is it, then, so extraordinary that I should have learnt to love one who is so kind--so generous-hearted--so intellectual as yourself?” asked Laura, leaning towards him so that her fragrant breath fanned his countenance and her forehead for an instant touched his own.

“Great heaven! Is it possible that so much happiness awaits me?” cried the Marquis, scarcely able to believe his eyes or his ears: then, after gazing upon her for a few instants with all the rapturous ardour of a youthful lover, he sank upon his knees before her, exclaiming, “_Laura, I adore you!_”

The designing woman’s triumph was complete: the Marquis was inextricably entangled in her snares;--and, throwing her arms around his neck, she murmured, “Oh! it is an honour as well as a joy to possess your love!”

Then the old man covered the charming young woman’s countenance with kisses; and for several minutes not a word was spoken between them. But at length the Marquis, who could scarcely believe that he had won a prize the possession of which all the noblest, handsomest, and wealthiest young men in Paris would envy him, began to speak upon the course which it would be prudent for them to adopt. Laura at once gave him to understand that she should experience no sentiment of shame in appearing as his mistress; and she undertook--as well indeed she might do--to reconcile her mother to this connexion which she had formed.

“Let us then return to England without delay,’ said the Marquis. “The business which has brought me to Paris is now in such a position that an agent may manage it for me. But tell me--is your mother dependent upon you?”

“Entirely,” answered Laura, anticipating the course which her noble lover was about to adopt.

“And your fortune is doubtless large?” he continued, interrogatively.

“It is not nearly so large as rumour has alleged,” was the reply. “Still it is a handsome competency for one person.”

“Then, as there shall be nothing having even the slightest appearance of selfishness in my attachment towards you, Laura,” resumed the nobleman, “you must immediately assign all your property to your mother; and I will at once--yea, at once--give you a proof of the boundless devotion with which you have inspired me. Permit me the use of your desk for a few moments.”

Laura rang the bell, and ordered Rosalie to bring writing materials; and when this was done, the marquis seated himself at the table and wrote something upon a sheet of paper. He next penned a letter, which he folded up, sealed, and addressed; and, turning towards Laura, he said, “This draught, beloved girl, is for the sum of sixty thousand pounds, payable at sight at my bankers’ in London. This letter, which you will have the kindness to send through the post to-morrow, is to advise them of the fact of such a cheque having been given, and to prepare them to meet it, so that there may be no hesitation in paying such a large amount. For it will be my joy and delight to enrich you, my dearest Laura; so that the old man may to some extent repay the immense obligation under which he is placed by the possession of such a heart as thine. I would not have you remain wealthy through your own resources: henceforth you must owe every thing to me--for if you cannot be my wife in name, you shall at least be the sharer of my fortune, as you have consented to be the partner of my destinies.”

“Your generosity, my dear Marquis, only binds me the more closely to you,” exclaimed Laura, lavishing upon the old man the most exciting and apparently fervent caresses. “At the same time permit me to remind you that there is nothing selfish in that affection which so suddenly sprang up in my bosom towards you: because I am no needy adventuress--no intriguing fortune-hunter,--and you are well aware that many a French nobleman would be proud to lay his title at my feet, were I disposed to decorate my brow with a coronet. My father--who, as you have doubtless heard, accumulated some money in India--left me well provided for; and that fortune I shall cheerfully abandon to my mother, preferring to remain dependent on yourself.”

“Ah! your father dwelt a long time in India!” exclaimed the Marquis, as if struck by a sudden idea. “Is it possible, then, that I could have encountered your mother in England? But, no--that woman could not have been the parent of such a lovely, charming creature as yourself!”

“To whom do you allude, my lord?” demanded Laura, now seized with the apprehension that her mother might be known to the wealthy lover whom she had succeeded in ensnaring, and whom she intended to fleece of the greater portion of his fortune.

“It was but a momentary thought--it exists no longer in my mind, dearest,” responded the nobleman, who, as he gazed upon the bright and splendid being before him, felt an ineffable disgust at having even for an instant associated her in any way with the loathsome old hag to whom he was alluding. “The fact is,” he continued, “I met a certain female in London--or rather, in the neighbourhood of London--a short time ago--indeed, just before I left England; and this woman bore the name of Mortimer.”

“It is not altogether an uncommon one,” observed Laura, maintaining an unruffled countenance, though her heart palpitated with continued apprehension.

“The singularity of the coincidence is that the female to whom I am alluding announces herself as the widow of a General-officer who had died in India,” resumed the Marquis.

“My lamented father was a merchant,” said Laura.

“Then of course there can be no identity in that case,” continued the nobleman. “Besides, having an intimate acquaintance with all military matters--as I myself held the post of Secretary at War many years ago, and have since taken a deep interest in that department--I am enabled to state that no General-officer of the name of Mortimer has recently died in India.”

“The woman, then, of whom you am speaking, was an impostress?” said Laura, interrogatively.

“I have little doubt of it,” answered the marquis. “But let us not dwell upon a subject so perfectly indifferent to us. We were talking of our plans. Will it suit you, dearest Laura, to quit Paris to-morrow, or the day after at latest?”

“To-morrow, if you will,” the young woman hastened to reply: for she now trembled lest her mother should suddenly return and perhaps prove, though unintentionally, a marplot to all the plans which her intriguing disposition had conceived.

“To-morrow, then, be it,” said the Marquis. “At noon I shall call for you in my travelling-chariot. We will return by easy stages to London; and, on our arrival in the English capital, the handsomest mansion that money can procure shall be fitted up with all possible speed for your abode.”

“I care not for a splendid dwelling in London itself,” replied Laura. “Rather let me have some beautiful and retired villa in the suburbs, where you can visit me at your leisure, and where we can pass the hours together without intrusion on the part of a host of visitors.”

“Your ideas on this subject concur with mine,” observed the Marquis, enchanted with the belief that Laura intended to retire from the fashionable world and devote herself wholly to him. “The seclusion of a charming villa will be delightful; and I think I can promise,” he added with a smile, “that the said villa will have more of my company than my town mansion. But I shall now take my departure--although with reluctance: it is however necessary for me to make certain preparations this evening, as I am to leave Paris thus unexpectedly to-morrow. For a few hours, then, my Laura, adieu--adieu!”

The old man embraced the young woman with the most unfeigned--unaffected fondness; and as his arms were cast about her neck, and he felt her bosom heaving against his chest, he longed to implore her to allow him to remain with her until the morning--for the dalliance and the toyings he had already enjoyed had inflamed his blood, and he aspired to be completely happy without delay. But he feared lest he should offend her by any manifestations of sensual longings; for he flattered himself that the connexion which had commenced between them had its origin in sentiment on her side. He accordingly withdrew--but reluctantly--from her embrace; and took his departure, promising to call for her punctually at noon on the following day.