Adrien Leroy - Page 58/550

"No one blames you, Mr. Vermont," said Lord Standon coldly, for even he,

the least suspicious of men, seemed to detect the false sorrow in the

speaker's voice.

Lady Constance looked at him gratefully; and Lord Standon was encouraged

thereby to proceed: "Adrien is generous to a fault; and if in this case it has had

disastrous results, it is usually a fault which few imitate."

Jasper raised his eyebrows; then, with a low bow to Lady Constance, and

a gentle, deprecatory shrug of his shoulders, walked away.

The girl waited till he was out of earshot, then turned impulsively to

Lord Standon.

"I hate that man," she said in a low voice; "and sometimes I believe he

hates Adrien too."

"So do I," returned Lord Standon, looking with intense admiration into

her lovely, troubled face.

"Do you?" she murmured. "Oh, if you would only try to open my cousin's

eyes to his friend's falseness--I know he's false, but Adrien is so

blind."

It seemed as if he were blind in more than one direction; for at that

minute Leroy himself crossed the room, with an aspect that, in any other

man, would have been termed glum. The sight of the girl with whom he was

so rapidly falling in love, sitting in rapt conversation with Lord

Standon--even though that young man was his friend--had roused a strong

feeling of resentment within his heart. He restrained himself, however,

though it was in a rather cold, forced voice that he asked Lady

Constance if she would sing. She rose demurely enough; for his very

coldness and jealousy, slight as it was--careless as she knew it to

be--proved to her that the love she so ardently desired was awakening at

last.

The evening passed quietly. Adrien himself refused to sing, though he

stayed close by his cousin's side, and turned over the pages of her

music with such a devoted air that at last the ladies of the party began

to whisper knowingly amongst themselves.

Luckily for Adrien's peace of mind--for he loathed and dreaded scenes of

any description--Lady Merivale had not returned with the party to the

Castle, much as Miss Penelope had wished it. Eveline Merivale was only

too cognisant of what was passing between Lady Constance and her cousin;

and though she knew that Adrien and herself had merely played at love,

and greatly against his will, at that, still she was just as unwilling

to see him the devoted slave of another woman, who was younger, if not

more beautiful, than herself.

After the ladies had retired for; the night, Adrien gave himself up to

unaccustomed reverie. The tenor of his life had been changed. The inane

senseless round of dissipation had begun to tire him; the homage and

flattery cloyed on his palate. And now, with his newborn love for

Constance filling his heart and mind, had come the overwhelming failure

of his beloved horse, and the death of his jockey; the last causing him

more pain than the light-hearted companions around him would have

believed possible. Neither had the half-defined charge made against

Jasper escaped his notice, though he had disdained to make any mention

of it.