The Loves of the Lady Arabella

by Molly Elliot Seawell

I left my adieux for Lady Hawkshaw, and repaired to the Admiralty, where Sir Peter happened to be, that day. I explained that I should have come to him at once, but for my inordinate wish to see Lady Hawkshaw; and that I found her looking at least twenty years younger since we met last. At which Sir Peter beamed on me with delight, and, I believe, mentally determined to give me a thousand pounds additional, in his will.

I then stated my real business, which was to get Giles Vernon exchanged; and Sir Peter, without a moment’s hesitation, agreed to do all he could for me; and then, as usual, directed me to have my portmanteau sent to Berkeley Square, as Lady Hawkshaw had done. Before I left the Admiralty, machinery had been put in motion to secure Giles Vernon’s exchange. I returned to Berkeley Square, and again took up my abode there.

VII

One month from the time I arrived in London, I was on my way to Portsmouth to meet Giles Vernon, who had been brought over with a batch of exchanged officers from France.

In that month, during which I had lived continuously in Berkeley Square, things were so little changed, except in one respect, which I shall mention presently, that I could scarcely persuade myself five years had passed. Peter and Polly, as Giles disrespectfully called them, had not grown a day older, and quarreled as vigorously as ever. Lady Arabella was then her own mistress, although still living under Sir Peter’s roof; but, as far as I could see, this spoiled child of nature and fortune had always been her own mistress. I found that Overton had been away for some years on foreign service, and, after distinguishing himself greatly, had lately returned suffering from severe wounds and injuries to his constitution. He was, however, in London, and able to ride and walk out, and visit his friends; but it was doubted by many whether, on the expiration of his leave, he would ever be fit for duty again.

I heard and saw enough to convince me that Lady Arabella had been wild with grief and despair when she heard of his wounds; and, although since his return to London he avoided company generally, she managed to see him occasionally, and spent much of her time driving in the parks upon the mere chance of seeing him taking his daily ride or walk. Lady Arabella Stormont had everything in life that heart could wish, except one. She had chosen to give her wilful and wayward heart to Philip Overton, and it must be acknowledged that he was a man well fitted to enchain a woman’s imagination. Overton had disdained the spontaneous gift of Arabella’s love; but I believe her haughty and arrogant mind could never be brought to believe that any man could be really insensible to her beauty, her rank, and her fortune. Overton could not in any way be considered a great match for her. His fortune was modest, and his chance of succeeding to the Vernon estates remote; but, with the desperate perversity of her nature, him she would have and no other. It always seemed to me as if Overton were the one thing denied her, but that she had determined to do battle with fate until she conquered her soul’s desire.

For myself, she treated me exactly as she had done five years before,—called me Dicky in her good humors, and a variety of sneering names in her bad humors,—and, little as it may be believed, I, Richard Glyn, lieutenant in his Majesty’s sea-service, with three thousand pounds to my name, would have gone to the gibbet rather than marry Lady Arabella, with her thirty thousand pounds.

Perhaps Daphne Carmichael had something to do with it. She was the same gentle, winning creature at nineteen as at twelve. She was still Sir Peter’s pet, and Lady Hawkshaw’s comfort; but I had not been in the house a week before the change I alluded to came about, and the change was in me concerning Daphne. I began to find it very hard to keep away from her. She treated me with great kindness before others, but when we were alone together, she was capricious. I began to despair of ever finding a woman who could be kind to a man three times running. And I was very much surprised at the end of a fortnight to find myself experiencing the identical symptoms I had felt five years before, with Arabella—only much aggravated. There was this difference, too. I had admired Arabella as a star, afar off, and I think I should have been very much frightened, if, at the time, she had chosen formally to accept my devotion. Not so with Daphne. I felt I should never be really at ease until I had the prospect of having her by my side the rest of my life. I reached this phase at the end of the third week. At the end of the fourth, I was in a desperate case, but it was then time to go to Portsmouth to meet Giles, according to my promise, and I felt, when I parted from Daphne, as if I were starting on a three years’ cruise, and I was only to be gone a day and a half. She, dear girl, showed some feeling, too, and I left, bearing with me the pack which every lover carries,—pains and hopes.

I left London at night, and next morning on reaching Portsmouth, as I jumped from the coach, I ran into Giles’ arms; he had reached Portsmouth some hours in advance of the time.

He showed marks of his imprisonment in his appearance, but his soul had ever been free, and he was the same brave and joyous spirit I had ever known. Not being minded to waste our time in Portsmouth, we took coach for London town at noon. As we were mounting, a countryman standing by held up a wooden cage full of larks, and asked us to buy, expatiating on their beautiful song.