But for this, the change would have been delicious. The white lights and deep shadows from the calm, grave moon contrasted with the long gleams of lamp-light from every window, reddened by the curtains within; the flowers shone out with a strange whiteness, the taller ones almost like spiritual shapes; the burnished orange leaves glistened, the water rose high in silvery spray, and fell back into the blackness of the basin made more visible by one trembling, shimmering reflection; the dark blue sky above seemed shut into a vault by the enclosing buildings, and one solitary planet shone out in the lustrous neighbourhood of the moon. So still, so solemn, so cool! Honora felt it as repose, and pensively began to admire—Owen chimed in with her. Feverish thoughts and perturbations were always gladly soothed away in her company. Phœbe alone stood barely confessing the beauty, and suppressing impatience at their making so much of it; not yet knowing enough of care or passion to seek repose, and much more absorbed in human than in any other form of nature.
The music was her first hope of deliverance from her namesake in the sky; but, behold, her companions chose to prefer hearing that grand instrumental piece softened by distance; and even Madame Hedwig’s quivering notes did not bring them in. However, at the first sounds of the accompaniment to the ‘Three Fishers’ Wives,’ Owen pulled back the curtain, and handed the two ladies back into the room, by a window much
nearer to the orchestra than that by which they had gone out, not far from where Edna Murrell had just risen, her hands nervously clasped together, her colour rapidly varying, and her eyes roaming about as though in quest of something. Indeed, through all the music, the slight sounds of the entrance at the window did not escape her, and at the instant when she should have begun to sing, Phœbe felt those black eyes levelled on herself with a look that startled her; they were at once removed, the head turned away; there was an attempt at the first words, but they died away on her lips; there was a sudden whiteness, Lucilla and the German both tried to reseat her; but with readier judgment Owen made two long steps, gathered her up in his strong arms, and bore her through the curtains and out at the open window like a mere infant.
‘Don’t come, don’t—it will only make more fuss—nobody has seen. Go to Madame Hedwig; tell her from me to go on to her next, and cover her retreat,’ said Lucilla, as fast as the words would come, signing back Honora, and hastily disappearing between the curtains.
There was a command in Lucilla’s gestures which always made obedience the first instinct even with Honora, and her impulse to assist thus counteracted, she had time to recollect that Lucy might be supposed to know best what to do with the schoolmistress, and that to dispose of her among her ladies’ maid friends was doubtless the kindest measure.
‘I must say I am glad,’ she said; ‘the poor thing cannot be quite so much spoilt as they wished.’
The concert proceeded, and in the next pause Honor fell into conversation with a pleasant lady who had brought one pair of young daughters in the morning, and now was doing the same duty by an elder pair.
Phœbe was standing near the window when a touch on her arm and a whispered ‘Help! hush!’ made her look round. Holding the curtain apart, so as to form the least possible aperture, and with one finger on her lip, was Lucy’s face, the eyes brimming over with laughter, as she pointed to her head—three of the hooks had set their barbs deep into the crimson satin curtain, and held her a prisoner!
‘Hush! I’ll never forgive you if you betray me,’ she whispered, drawing Phœbe by the arm behind the curtain; ‘I should expire on the spot to be found in Absalom’s case. All that little goose’s fault—I never reckoned on having to rush about this way. Can’t you do it? Don’t spare scissors,’ and Lucilla produced a pair from under her skirt. ‘Rashe and I always go provided.’
‘How is she?—where is she?’ asked Phœbe.