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Updated: June 6, 2025
"You have large capacities, Captain Trevalyon, but I must make you love one woman and only one, or I cannot sleep content," and the black amorous eyes rest on his face. "Ye gods! a confession," thought Trevalyon. "Awkward for me as I want Haughton to have the innings; she is good fun and doesn't bore one, but I've missed Vaura again, fool I was to come." "You don't seem curious" continued Mrs.
"With Delrose!" exclaimed Trevalyon, now fully aroused; "is Delrose at Haughton?" and as he spoke he gave a swift glance at Lady Esmondet, who thought silently, "Delrose, the man who was mixed up in some way with Lionel in the Fanny Clarmont scandal; there will be mischief." "No, left same train as I did, very unwillingly though; extracted a promise from Mrs.
"Depends on the cards in his hands, and how he plays them, Sir Dennis," answered his host, laconically. "True, Lady Esmondet, and if the cards are his, the game is won, the difficulty over," said Trevalyon, with a glance at Vaura, "and bliss secured." "Faith, you're right, Trevalyon." Here Miss Marchmont's shrill voice was distinctly heard above the general hum, in animated discussion, saying,
"My friend Trevalyon as well as your own card bid me 'come'; it is then, as I wish, dear, your consent to honor me with this hand?" "Yes, if you do not tell of how nearly you won a pair of gloves." "Instead; I shall tell of winning this fair hand on your waking, when we wed as now." And his dark moustache is on her lips; "your kisses are all mine, is it not so, my wife?"
On the steps stand the master of Haughton, beside him his friend of years, Trevalyon, behind them their acquaintance, small Sir Tilton Everly. In the background, on either side of the Hall, are the household, only a few for their master has an uncomfortably small income, but they love him and will not leave him for filthy lucre's sake.
The Duchess of Wyesdale was also there; come with the avowed purpose of calling upon Lady Esmondet and making the acquaintance of Miss Vernon, but in reality to see Captain Trevalyon, whom she had watched for in vain, having expected him to call since the day they had met on the Corso.
"Yes," answered Vaura, consulting her tablets, "Worth's studio comes first on the list; he sends word he has something aesthetic, thence to purchase music, "Les Folies" Galop, by Ketterer; duet from "Il Trovatore," "Vivra Contende il Guibilo," "Mira di Acarbe," etc., you must sing with me when we fold our wings for a while in some temporary home at Rome, Capt. Trevalyon."
In the villa, many things beautiful and rare occupied their attention; in the small library were some deep German and English books on philosophy, with Tennyson in every style of dress; also Byron, with novels of all tone and colour; as Vaura moved about among the treasures of the absent Marquis, Trevalyon, watching her intently, tortured himself by imagining that she handled everything lovingly, read snatches from his books tenderly.
Haughton; oblige me, please, by keeping your seat." "Welcome, thrice welcome, Trevalyon, my dear fellow," cried the Colonel warmly. "Here, Winter," to the butler "attend to the comfort of Sir Lionel Trevalyon'" "I thank you, Haughton, you are always kind, but I have dined."
"And you won't tell Miss Vernon," she continued, beseechingly, "I want her to be surprised." Vaura and Rev. Robert had joined the group as Captain Trevalyon was saying, laughingly, "I cannot promise you, Lady Wyesdale, I am in Lady Esmondet's hands; if, as I expect the 12th of January sees her at Haughton Hall, I cannot possibly be with you, unless my photo in the garb you wish will suit."
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