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That, she had told herself, had been due to the lord who was to become her husband. But Rachel had become, and was likely to become, the means of earning money for them, and they were grateful. To tell the truth, Lord Castlewell had had nothing to do with it. But gradually there came upon them the conviction that her voice was gone, and then the payment of the money ceased.
I am afraid I must trouble you once again with my affairs; though, indeed, after what last took place between us it ought not to be necessary. Lord Castlewell has proposed to make me his wife; and, to tell you the truth, looking forward into the world, I do not wish to throw over all its pleasures because your honour, whom I have loved, does not wish to accept the wages of a singing girl.
M. Le Gros had, to her intelligence, distinctly though very courteously declined her request. It might be well that the company would accede to no such request; but M. Le Gros, in his questionable civility, had told the whole story to Lord Castlewell, who had immediately offered her a loan of £200 out of his own pocket.
He took, therefore, a little trouble, and calling upon her the next morning at her lodgings, found her seated with Mr. O'Mahony. "Father," she said, when the lord was ushered into the room, "this is Lord Castlewell. Lord Castlewell, this is my father." Then she sat down, leaving the two to begin the conversation as they might best please.
"Ah! but my own one," said Rachel, "we will do it all selon les règles. I am in a hurry, but we won't let the world know it. I, the future Countess of Castlewell; I, the future Marchioness of Beaulieu, will keep my terms and my allotted times like any candle-snuffer. What do you think Moss will say?" "What can it signify what Mr. Moss may say?" "Ah! but my own man, it does signify. Mr.
But the more she was sure of it, the more resolved she became that Lord Castlewell should not call her father an ass. She might do so, and undoubtedly would after her own fashion, but no such privilege should be allowed to him. "Oh! father, father," she said to him the next morning, "don't you think you've made a goose of yourself?" "Yes, I do." "Then, don't do it any more." "Yes, I shall.
That he was a fool there could be no doubt, a fool with whom he would not be forced to live in the constant intercourse of married life for any money that could be offered to him. He was a man who, without singing himself, cared for nothing but the second-hand life of a theatre. But then he, Mr. O'Mahony, was not a young woman, and was not expected to marry Lord Castlewell.
You never can have used it with less chance of getting any return." This interview, however, was ended by the acceptance of a cheque from Lord Castlewell for £200, payable to the order of Gerald O'Mahony. "She has taken his money all the same." This was said some weeks after the transaction as described in the last chapter, and was spoken by Madame Socani to Mr. Moss. "How do you know?"
At the moment the door opened, and the reprobate entered the room. "Your servant told me that Mr. Moss was here, and therefore I walked up at once," said the reprobate. "I am so much obliged to you," said Rachel. "Oh Lord Castlewell! I am so much obliged to you. He tells me in the first place that you are a reprobate." "Never mind me," said the lord. "I don't mind what he says of you.
As to his being an ass, O'Mahony being an ass, he was sure that there was no doubt about that. All the world said so. The House of Commons knew it, and the newspapers. He had been turned out of the House for saying the Speaker was wrong, and not apologising for having uttered such words. And he, Lord Castlewell, had so expressed himself only to the woman who was about to be his wife.
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