Chapter II: Doubts Changed Into Certainties

Violet's fears were soon to be confirmed.

The reader may remember a certain Mrs. Henley, mentioned in our prologue as the friend who consented to favour the meetings of Marmaduke and Mary, and whose kindness Mary never, never could forget. He will not be surprised to hear that Mary Hardcastle, on becoming Mrs. Meredith Vyner, considerately cut her former friend; a proceeding which so much astonished Mrs. Henley, that she declared she had "always expected as much."

Now this Mrs. Henley was a sort of distant cousin of the anecdotical Mrs. Merryweather, who boarded at the Tring establishment. Mrs. Henley calling one day upon her cousin, was shown into that gloomy reception-room the reader knows, and there, amongst other subjects of gossip, the fellow-boarders of Mrs. Merryweather were biographically and critically touched upon by that lively lady. When she came to Blanche, and mentioned her being the daughter of no less a person than Meredith Vyner, Esq., Mrs. Henley interrupted her to give a detailed character of Mrs. Vyner, with an eloquent account of her base ingratitude, and of the shameful way in which she had treated poor Mr. Ashley.

This information Mrs. Merryweather, of course, imparted to Blanche, with more circumlocutions and interspersed anecdotes than the reader would like to have set down here. Blanche, aware of the state of her sister's affections, felt somewhat uneasy on learning Marmaduke's previous attachment; and although she did not guess how matters stood, yet the idea of his having so far forgotten his former love, as to pay court to a step-daughter greatly puzzled her.

The next time Violet and Rose called upon her, she communicated to them the information she had received. Rose was greatly scandalized, Violet deeply moved.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Rose, "to think of mama having behaved so! But can it be true? Yes; the information is too precise. Yet Marmaduke has forgiven...."

"But not _forgotten_ her!" said Violet, in a calm, stern voice.

"What do you mean?"

"He loves her still."

"Violet!"

"I am very serious."

"And his attentions to you...?"

"Hypocrisy!"

"Impossible! Violet, how can you think so ill of people?"

"You often ask me, Rose, how I can think so ill of mama. Yet you have to-day heard that which will partly justify me. You believe that mama assists dear Blanche, by money saved from her own allowance. I know that it is papa who sends the money. I tell you she is made up of falsehood."

"But Marmaduke?"

"Of him I thought better--yet you see?"

"I see nothing. He loves you--has forgiven mama, and is attentive to her merely to gain opportunities of seeing you."

Violet shook her head mournfully.

"Do not condemn him unheard, Violet. Watch him closely, then question him. You know not what explanation he may have. Oh! do not let there be more misunderstanding in our family."

Violet had turned away her head to conceal her tears, but the effort was in vain; her uncontrollable grief burst forth more violently from having been a while restrained.

She resolved to bring Marmaduke to an explanation that very evening, and the resolution calmed her.

It so happened that during the day Marmaduke had been more than usually irritated by Mrs. Vyner's manners. He had spoken to her eloquent words of love, and demanded a return; the more impassioned he became, the more she drew back behind her position as a married woman.

"You love me," he exclaimed, "I know you love me. You cannot deny it."

"Marmaduke, I have already told you this is language I must not, will not listen to."

"Answer me: can you deny it?"

"I shall answer nothing of the kind."

"But I insist."

"If I must leave the room," she said, "if you force me to leave it,--and unless you change the subject, I shall certainly do so,--this will be the last time I shall ever trust myself in your presence."

He rose, and took up his hat as if to depart.

"Mary, you will repent this."

She only shrugged her shoulders.

He moved towards the door.

"Do you dine here to-day?" she said, with an affectation of carelessness, through which pierced an entreaty.

"No."

He left her in anger. He did not dine there that day, but he came in during the evening. Rose and Violet, watching his manner very closely, could see nothing in it but polished courtesy, mixed with some slight indications of dislike towards Mrs. Vyner, unmixed courtesy towards Meredith Vyner, and unmistakeable affection for Violet.

In truth he was more attentive to Violet that evening, owing to the scene just recorded; and when Mrs. Vyner proposed a game at chess he declined it, on the ground that he should not be able to stay long enough that evening; he was engaged to two parties. Yet he never moved from Violet's side until past eleven!

"Well," said Rose, as she went into Violet's room that night, "what do you say now?"

"I think you are right."

"I am sure of it."

"And yet, Rose--place yourself in my position--is it not horrible to think of his having once loved her?"

Rose felt that it was, but unwilling to say so, merely remarked that he was then but a boy, and boys must love somebody.

"Yes, but _her_! Any one rather than her! Oh, Rose, I shall never be happy!"

"Don't say that. He has clearly forgotten all about it--treats it as a boyish flirtation. His heart is undeniably yours--happy girl that you are to be able to say so! Would that I could know Julius was mine on the same conditions!"

"Would you accept him?"

"Gladly."

"And the thought of her would not poison your happiness?"

"No."

Violet sighed deeply, and was silent. She tried to persuade herself that she ought not to be affected by the dark and bitter thoughts arising from the discovery of her lover's prior attachment; but instinctively she returned to the subject, to dwell on it with morbid satisfaction.

She passed a wretched night. Broken dreams of Marmaduke at her mother's feet, suddenly changing to dreams of her own marriage, interrupted at the foot of the altar, made her sleep restless. Her waking thoughts were scarcely less irritating. Sometimes she would try to believe that Mrs. Henley might have been misinformed, sometimes that the Mr. Ashley of whom she spoke might have been another Mr. Ashley, and sometimes that it was a mere flirtation which gossip had magnified, into an engagement. But these thoughts were chased away by the recollection of various looks interchanged with Marmaduke, when her mother was mentioned, looks which plainly told her that he had discovered the falsehood which was under the little creature's affected sensibility and goodness.