She felt like a poor little fly in the toils of some enormous spider. Never before did she think it was in her gentle nature to loathe any human being as she loathed this young man, whom she was so shortly to promise to love, honour, and obey, and with whom she was to go through the long weary years of the life that lay between to-morrow and the grave.
And in these years that would inexorably come, what might not his conduct become, and his treatment of her be, if, in the first flush of his own youth and of her beauty, he would be thus so unyieldingly cruel as to make her hand, freedom, and happiness the price of her father's title and honour, for the little that remained to him of a long, blameless, and honourable life—for Rookleigh still had the trump card of playing to win the coronet for his absent brother.
Then a wild gust of horror and dismay would come over her, ever and anon, when she thought of the coming hour when she must inevitably and irrevocably become the wife of Rookleigh, and there could be no escape from him but by death—and she felt that she dared and could not die—or by flight—a flight that "society" would speedily twist into a terrible scandal!
The afternoon was drawing into evening—one Clara would never forget, for Mr. De Murrer was to arrive with the marriage settlements and contract for signature, and Clara, who had begged to be left for a little time to herself—her miserable self—was seated in a bay window lost in bitter thought, looking at the flowers of spring, and wondering how all would be with her when the time came that they had faded away and been replaced by those of summer.
Already soft showers had expanded the buds that but a week ago were closed, the foliage of the brightest green was hiding the dark branches of the trees. On all hands she heard the notes of the birds, and with that tendency which we have to note trifles when in great tribulation, she found herself watching with curious interest the bees and the butterflies among the bright parterres of flowers where the geranium, the heliotrope, the light green leaves of the echevaria and the cups of the tulips mingled.
All nature looked sweet; but the spring suggested nothing of hope to Clara, and she was past weeping now, in the bitter conviction that it availed her nothing; but a shiver passed over her, when she found that Rookleigh, claiming a bridegroom's privilege, had come upon her unannounced, and was bending smilingly over her—could he do otherwise, for the girl was adorably beautiful, and was so nearly now his own!
"To-morrow, Clara, my darling," said he in a voice of more tenderness than it was quite his nature or his habit to assume, for true tenderness was not in him, "think of to-morrow, for long ere this hour we shall be united for life, and far away together!"
What she replied she never precisely knew, or cared perhaps to remember, so quickly did certain events come to pass just then.
The stoppage of a vehicle at the front porch, an important ring at the door bell, was followed by steps in the entrance-hall, and then a servant announced that "Mr. De Murrer was in the library, where Lord Oakhampton awaited Miss Hampton and Mr. Rookleigh."
"We are to sign the contract, and so forth, so take courage, Clara," said Rookleigh, taking her by the hand, but she shrank on hearing voices below.