The lively adventures of Gavin Hamilton

by Molly Elliot Seawell

Lady Hamilton, more accustomed than Gavin to the society of the great, was deeply gratified, but not, like him, highly elated; and when he spoke of his father in a tone that indicated so much hatred and contempt, she flashed him a look that reduced him to silence at once. Nevertheless, there was no mistaking the earnest gratitude of the few words, straight from her heart, with which she thanked St. Arnaud. It was, indeed, a long step toward her rights to be received by a great and virtuous sovereign in the very presence, as it were, of the man who had vainly tried to repudiate her.

It was an evening of great happiness to them all. Madame Ziska and Kalenga had become so attached to Gavin and St. Arnaud that whatever made them happy, the husband and wife shared thoroughly. Lady Hamilton found in Kalenga so much patience under misfortune, and so much affection and appreciation of his wife, that she honoured him with all her heart. When she saw their mutual devotion, she could not but think with vain regret: “Had Sir Gavin Hamilton so treated me, I should have been the happiest woman in the world.”

Next morning a very great and important subject came up, of which only Lady Hamilton and Madame Ziska realized the true significance. This was the gown that Lady Hamilton was to wear to the imperial levee. Gavin tried to settle it at once by saying:

“Go to the shops and buy the handsomest gown you can find. I can pay for a part of it, and St. Arnaud will lend me the rest.”

“Thank you, no,” replied his mother, smiling. “It would not be in good taste that I should appear handsomely dressed, even if you had the money, which you have not. It is much better that my dress should be as simple as circumstances will allow. Therefore, I shall wear a plain black satin gown. When I was presented, in my girlhood, to the King and Queen of England, I wore a very simple gown, for my parents were not rich people for their station in life. I think I cannot do better than follow their plan now, although they have long since been taken from me.”

The days could not go fast enough for Gavin between then and Tuesday. The only thing that marred his happiness was the possibility that Sir Gavin Hamilton would not be present to witness the triumph of the woman he had so ill used and insulted. True, Sir Gavin did not mean to be at the levee, for he heard in due time of the arrival of his wife, and knew that the Empress Queen would receive her. But he had no notion of being driven from Vienna by her presence, and sardonically concluded that Lady Hamilton would be as anxious to avoid him as he would be to avoid her.

Tuesday evening came, and Gavin and St. Arnaud, dressed in their court uniforms, awaited Lady Hamilton’s appearance from her room. With only little Freda to assist her, Lady Hamilton was making her toilet. Presently the door opened, and Freda, with a candle in each hand, came out, looking solemn beyond expression, and putting the candlesticks on the table, gazed with grave admiration at Lady Hamilton, who followed her.

Gavin caught his breath with admiration when his mother came full into the circle of light. He had never thought of her as a beautiful woman, only as the dearest woman in the world. He had seen only in her large, dark eyes the mother love shining for him. He had only felt in her rare smiles the sympathy with him that made her smile sometimes in the midst of her hard lot. And he had never seen her dressed except in the plainest and, often, in the shabbiest manner.

But to-night she wore her simple black satin robe with the air of a princess. For the first time in twenty years her beautiful white neck and handsome arms were bared to view. Her hair, silver and black mingled, was still abundant, and arranged with singular grace and becomingness. At night the lines of care in her face were not visible; pleasure, from which she had long since parted, had again come to her, and had brought to her cheek a flush like the glow of youth. She wore no jewels—she had none to wear—but her majestic and high-bred beauty needed no ornaments.

Gavin’s first gasp of admiration over, he was strangely silent, while St. Arnaud, with the polished grace of a man of the world, complimented Lady Hamilton upon her distinguished appearance. No woman ever loses her appreciation of a pretty compliment, and as for Gavin, Lady Hamilton was more touched than she would have acknowledged by his admiration. She had asked herself while dressing: “Will he like me in this guise?” as a young girl questions of her lover. There was no doubt that Gavin liked her in that guise; but when his mother turned to him once more his eyes were full of tears.