And now he began to think that to remain in London, where there would be daily chances of seeing Clare, would be but to trifle with his own happiness and that peace of mind which he had been gradually attaining in India, and that he and Jerry Vane should betake themselves to Paris or Brussels, and kill thought as best they could; to this conclusion they came as they sat far into the hours of a sultry summer night over cigars and iced drinks, and resolved that the morrow should see them leave 'the silver streak' behind them.
And at that very time, when they were forming their plans, what was Clare about?
Could Trevor have seen her then, and known her secret thoughts, perhaps he might have been less decided in his views of foreign travel.
Returning wearily and long before the usual time from a brilliant rout, greatly to the surprise of Violet, and not a little to the vexation of that young lady, Clare was seated alone in her own room, lost in thought and unwilling to consult poor sad Ida, who was now fast asleep.
It was long past midnight; the throng of foot passengers was gone, but the rattle of carriages was incessant as if the time were mid-day.
She had unclasped her ornaments as if they oppressed her, and forgetful of her maid, who yawned fitfully and impatiently in an adjoining room, she sat with her rounded chin placed in the palm of a white hand, with her dark eyes fixed on vacancy.
The soft air of the summer night—or morning, rather—came gently through the lace curtains of an open window, bringing with it the delicious perfume of flowers from the jardinière in the balcony; and perhaps the fragrance of these blossoms, and the half-hushed hum of the streets without, 'stole through the portals of the senses,' and lured her into waking dreams of the past and of the future.
At the ball she had quitted so early, her father, who had been making himself appear somewhat absurd by his senile attentions to Desmond's rather passée sister, Evelyn, had actually spoken to her of Trevor Chute, and in unwonted friendly terms; and the flood of thought this episode had called up within her, conflicting with the half-decided addresses of Desmond, partly drew her home, to think and ponder over her future, if a future she had that was worth considering now.
So far as monetary matters were concerned, the same barriers existed still between her and poor Trevor Chute as when Sir Carnaby broke off the engagement as cruelly as he would have 'scratched' a horse; and then the settlements which the great, languid guardsman could make were known to be unexceptional.
These did not weigh much with gentle, yet proud, and unambitious Clare; but she knew that they had vast weight with her worldly-minded father, so why torment herself by thinking of Trevor Chute at all?