And thus terminated a good intention. If it went where such too often are said to go, it left its germ in earth to bud and blossom.
CHAPTER IV.
If Lord Randolph had possessed as good sense as he had kindness of heart, even yet all might have passed into oblivion; but he was that rara avis of fashionable life—a moral man; that is, one too much so, to attempt the seduction of a friend's wife. Minnie became sacred to him from the moment he shook Tremenhere's hand in reconciliation; him, he liked, and still more, his fair little wife. It was, then, not to be wondered at if he claimed the privilege of an old friend, and made frequent calls at the villa near Chiswick. It would have been much more wisely done to have remained away; but, in conscious rectitude, we often are guilty of very compromising acts, viewed by prejudiced or evil minds. Tremenhere's pride forbade any observations to Minnie, who received him with pleasure, looking upon him in two lights—both as her husband's friend, and Lady Dora's suitor, for such he still was; and as she occasionally, but not very frequently called, they met at the villa. Still there was—burned as it were into Miles's brain—the memory of all Vellumy had said that fatal day about his friend's love for a married woman—fair, too; in all, answering Minnie's description. And, worse than all, there was that unfortunate letter which Vellumy had written, and, for self-security, bade her burn immediately. All these things combined were ever floating before Tremenhere's brain; and, to complete the impression, Lord Randolph was constantly urging him to finish the "Aurora," by giving her a worthy representative in the face of his fair, young, sylph-like wife.
In the most well-meaning manner, this man was ever doing something to keep alive the other's suspicions. He was no longer in ignorance of Tremenhere's position regarding Marmaduke Burton; and, as a sincere friend and generous-hearted man, pressed his purse upon Miles, to proceed at once to Gibraltar, and prosecute all possible research. It need scarcely be said, that he had dropped all acquaintance with Marmaduke, which created a double hatred and desire of revenge on his part, towards his cousin and his young wife.
When Lord Randolph made the generous offer of his purse, he concluded by saying, naturally and without thought of harm—
"You could leave Mrs. Tremenhere with her aunt, Lady Ripley; I will undertake to arrange that. Or, I know my own good, kind one, Lady Lysson, would most gladly offer her a home during your absence."
Tremenhere was painting at the moment the other said this; he flushed deeply, then dropping a pencil, stooped to pick it up, and thus partly covered his confusion.
"I cannot be sufficiently grateful," he answered; "but—" there was an almost imperceptible tone of sarcasm in his voice; "but I never have been parted from my wife, Lord Randolph; and I do not think she would desire or like it—that is, I hope not." And he fixed his eye for a moment on the other's face, who saw nothing, and consequently more than once urged the subject upon Miles, who grew at last almost rude, beyond his power of control.
"Tremenhere's out of temper to-day," said the visitor to himself. "I'm sure it would be the best thing he could do, and a duty, to place that sweet wife of his, in her proper sphere; I'll be at him again."