The Haunted Chamber by "The Duchess"


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Page 7

"I never flatter," he responds, with telling emphasis. "But, I can see
you are not angry, and so I am emboldened to say plainly, I would gladly
see you my cousin's wife. Is the idea not altogether abhorrent to you?"

"No. Oh, no!"

"It is perhaps--pardon me if I go too far--even agreeable to you?"

"Mr. Dynecourt," says Mrs. Talbot, suddenly glancing at him and laying
her jeweled fingers lightly on his arm, "I will confess to you that I am
tired of being alone--dependent on myself, as it were--thrown on my own
judgment for the answering of every question that arises. I would gladly
acknowledge a superior head. I would have some one to help me now and
then with a word of advice; in short, I would have a husband. And,"--here
she lays her fan against her lips and glances archly at him--"I confess
too that I like Sir Adrian as--well--as well as any man I know."

"He is a very fortunate man"--gravely. "I would he knew his happiness."

"Not for worlds," says Mrs. Talbot, with well-feigned alarm. "You would
not even hint to him such a thing as--as--" She stops, confused.

"I shall hint nothing--do nothing, except what you wish. Ah, Mrs.
Talbot"--with a heavy sigh--"you are supremely happy! I envy you! With
your fascinations and"--insinuatingly--"a word in season from me, I see
no reason why you should not claim as your own the man whom you--well,
let us say, like; while I--"

"If I can befriend you in any way," interrupts Dora quickly, "command
me."

She is indeed quite dazzled by the picture he has painted before her
eyes. Can it be--is it--possible, that Sir Adrian may some day be hers?
Apart from his wealth, she regards him with very tender feelings, and of
late she has been rendered at times absolutely miserable by the thought
that he has fallen a victim to the charms of Florence.

Now if, by means of this man, her rival can be kept out of Adrian's way,
all may yet be well, and her host may be brought to her feet before her
visit comes to an end.

Of Arthur Dynecourt's infatuation for Florence she is fully aware, and
is right in deeming that part of his admiration for the beautiful girl
has grown out of his knowledge of her money-bags. Still, she argues to
herself, his love is true and faithful, despite his knowledge of her
_dot_, and he will in all probability make her as good a husband as she
is likely to find.

"May I command you?" asks Arthur, in his softest tones. "You know my
secret, I believe. Ever since that last meeting at Brighton, when my
heart overcame me and made me show my sentiments openly and in your
presence, you have been aware of the hopeless passion that is consuming
me. I may be mad, but I still think that, with opportunities and time, I
might make myself at least tolerated by Miss Delmaine. Will you help me
in this matter? Will you give me the chance of pleading my cause with
her alone? By so doing"--with a meaning smile--"you will also give my
cousin the happy chance of seeing you alone."

Dora only too well understands his insinuation. Latterly Sir Adrian
and Florence have been almost inseparable. To now meet with one whose
interest it is to keep them asunder is very pleasant to her.

"I will help you," she says in a low tone.

"Then try to induce Miss Delmaine to give me a private rehearsal
to-morrow in the north gallery," he whispers hurriedly, seeing Captain
Ringwood and Miss Villiers approaching. "Hush! Not another word! I rely
upon you. Above all things, remember that what has occurred is only
between you and me. It is our little plot," he says, with a curious
smile that somehow strikes a chill to Mrs. Talbot's heart.

She is faithful to her word nevertheless, and late that night, when all
have gone to their rooms, she puts on her dressing-gown, dismisses her
maid, and crossing the corridor, taps lightly at the door of Florence's
apartment.

Hearing some one cry "Come in," she opens the door, and, having fastened
it again, goes over to where Florence is sitting while her maid is
brushing her long soft hair that reaches almost to the ground as she
sits.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 6th Jan 2025, 8:29