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Updated: June 14, 2025
"What a couple they would have been," he thought, as Vaura's syren voice read aloud some marked passages from the poets; "even if I can clear myself of this hateful scandal, I have only the gloomy 'towers' to offer her, while he has his sunny palaces in the lands or climes she loves so well." And Lady Esmondet seeing his intent gaze following Vaura, and observing his quiet thought,
"Which one?" said his friend gaily, as with one bound he is at Vaura's side, not missing his opportunity which he had sworn to take, should it offer, of an introduction; he now stood bareheaded as he tendered the muff she had dropped; his handsome face aglow with satisfaction, as he took Vaura's offered hand as she thanked him, on her uncle presenting him.
The following eight years of Vaura's life have been spent chiefly at Paris, at the Seminaire of Madame Rocheforte, bringing us to 1877, the intangible present, a mere cobweb dividing as it does our past, as it silently recedes from our winged future. We now return to Captain Trevalyon, as he leaves the residence of Mrs. Tompkins, No. Eaton Square.
On returning from a long ride one morning Vaura and Lionel found a gay party of callers chatting with Lady Esmondet; amongst them was Vaura's old friend, Robert Douglas.
When he was singing, the silver chimes softly rang eleven o'clock, so knowing he had no time to lose, he quietly left the room. Vaura's heart throbbed quickly for she thought, "he has gone."
"Woe be to that incarnation of selfishness in yonder boudoir," exclaimed Everly; "if he be the means of my losing this dance with the fair Queen of the Revels," looking admiringly at Vaura's full and rounded neck, throat and arms. "You won't call it petty larceny, Everly, when you pour maledictions on his head.
"A great people though, Miss Vernon; strongly imbued with the spirit of the age, Progress," said Sir Tilton, who, from his corner, had never withdrawn his gaze from Vaura's face since the exit of the other ladies. "True; but what a spirit of unrest is Progress, always flying, only resting on the wing to scatter to the winds a something new, to take the place of the old," said Vaura, thoughtfully.
"Merci! Sir Andrew, your secret will be safe; and now that I have such a mission, from this hour you are my medical adviser, as you will have a double interest in knowing my pulse beats. But, see, the skill of my Esculapius triumphs." "'Tis so; the nun revives," echoed Sir Lionel, withdrawing his gaze from Vaura's face. "Revives!
The soft light shone alike upon gems in sculpture and art on the walls painted in dreamy soul-entrancing landscapes, or gay grouping of the Graces; if the pictured female loveliness was clad only in feathery clouds of fleecy drapery, the few thought the painter might have been more lavish of robing; but the room was warm with gay laughter, warm with the sweet breath of warm hearts, with the warmth of the rose-tinted lights clothing the ethereal loveliness on its walls; and now, falling on one of the loveliest women in the kingdom, thought Trevalyon, as laying his burden on a soft velvet lounge, his eyes dwelt on Vaura's beauty, for they are alone once more, Father Lefroy having left the boudoir with Mason to summon Sir Andrew Clarke, as they could not restore the nun unaided.
Leaning against the door post is a tall military looking figure, smoking vigorously, as men will, if life's springs want oiling. Both ladies see him, and Vaura's face is at the window. "Halt, John," shouts his master, for the man is a new servant, and driving full speed for the Hall. "My two darlings, how glad I am to see you both," and kisses with long hand-clasps are exchanged.
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