The Daltons; Or, Three Roads In Life. Volume II. Lever Charles James

The Daltons; Or, Three Roads In Life. Volume II - Lever Charles James


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half-year; for, no matter how liberal a man is to his boys, he’ll be pestered with bills after all! There’s blaguards will be lending them money, and teachin’ them extravagance, just out of devilment, I believe. I know well how it used to be with myself when I was in old ‘Trinity,’ long ago. There was a little chap of the name of Foley, and, by the same token, a pedler, too – ”

      “Oh, papa, he’s going away, and you have n’t thanked him yet!” cried Nelly, feelingly.

      “What a hurry he’s in!” said Dalton, as he watched the eager haste with which the pedler was now arranging the straps of his knapsack.

      “Would you not ask him to stay – to dine with us?” faltered Nelly, in a low, faint whisper.

      “The pedler – to dine?” asked Dalton, with a look of astonishment

      “Frank’s only friend!” sighed she, mournfully.

      “By my conscience, sometimes I don’t know if I ‘m standing on my head or my heels,” cried Dalton, as he wiped his brows, with a look of utter bewilderment. “A pedler to dinner! There now – that’s it – more haste worse speed: he’s broke that strap in his hurry!”

      “Shall I sew it for you?” said Nelly, stooping down and taking out her needle as she spoke.

      “Oh, Fräulein, how good of you!” cried Adolf; and his whole face beamed with an expression of delight. “How dearly shall I value this old pack hereafter!”

      These last words, scarcely muttered above his breath, were overheard by Nelly, and a deep blush covered her cheeks as she bent over the work.

      “Where’s your own maid? Couldn’t one of the women do it as well?” cried Dalton, impatiently. “Ye’d not believe, Mr. Brawer, that we have the house full of servants this minute; a set of devils feasting and fattening at one’s expense.”

      “Thanks, Fräulein,” said the pedler, as she finished; “You little know how I shall treasure this hereafter.”

      “Ask him to stay, papa,” whispered Nelly once more.

      “Sure he’s a pedler!” muttered Dalton, indignantly.

      “At least thank him. Tell him you are grateful to him.”

      “He ‘d rather I ‘d buy ten yards of damaged calico, – that’s the flattery he ‘d understand best,” said Dalton, with a grin.

      “Farewell, Herr von Dalton. Farewell, Fräulein!” said Adolf. And with a bow of deep respect he slowly retired from the room, while Nelly turned to the window to conceal her shame and sorrow together.

      “It was this very morning,” muttered Dalton, angrily, “when I spoke of giving a little dinner-party, you did nothing but turn up your nose at this, that, and t’ other. There was nobody good enough, forsooth! There was Monsieur Ratteau, the ‘croupier’ of the tables there, a very nice man, with elegant manners and the finest shirt-studs ever I seen, and you would n’t hear of him.”’

      Nelly heard little of this reproachful speech, for, sunk in the recess of the window, she was following with her eyes the retiring figure of Adolf Brawer. He had just crossed the “Plate,” and ere he turned into a side street he stopped, wheeled round, and made a gesture of farewell towards the spot where, unseen by him, Nelly was still standing.

      “He is gone!” muttered she, half aloud.

      “Well, God speed him!” rejoined Dalton, testily. “I never could abide a pedler.”

      CHAPTER VI. MADAME DE HEIDENDORF

      Kate Dalton’s was a heavy heart as, seated beside her new friend, she whirled along the road to Vienna. The scenery possessed every attraction of historic interest and beauty. The season was the glorious one of an Italian spring. There were ancient cities, whose very names were like spells to memory. There were the spots of earth that Genius has consecrated to immortality. There were the scenes where Poetry caught its inspiration, and around which, even yet, the mind-created images of fancy seem to linger, all to interest, charm, and amuse her, and yet she passed them without pleasure, almost without notice.

      The splendid equipage in which she travelled, the hundred appliances of ease and luxury around her, the obsequious, almost servile devotion of her attendants, recalled but one stern fact, – that she had sold herself for all these things; that for them she had bartered her warm affections, – her love of father and sister and brother, – the ties of home and of kindred, even to the Faith at whose altar she had bent her knees in infancy. She had given all for greatness.

      In all her castle-buildings of a future, her own family bad formed figures in the picture. To render her poor father happy; to surround his old age with the comforts he pined after; to open to dear Nelly sources of enjoyment in the pursuit she loved; to afford Frank the means of associating with his comrades of rank, to mix in that society for which he longed, – these were her objects, and for them she was willing to pay dearly. But now she was not to witness the happiness of those she loved. Already the hard conditions of her contract were to be imposed. Banishment first, then Isolation; who could say what after?

      Her travelling-companion was scarcely well calculated to smooth down the difficulties of this conflict in her mind. Madame de Heidendorf was the very reverse of Lady Hester. Without the slightest pretension to good looks herself, she assumed to despise everything like beauty in others, constantly associating its possession with the vanity of weak intellects; she threw a kind of ridicule over these “poor, pretty things,” as she loved to call them, which actually seemed to make beauty and folly convertible terms. Political intrigue, or, to speak more fairly, mischief-making in state affairs, was her great and only passion. By dint of time, patience, considerable cunning, and a very keen insight into character, she had succeeded in obtaining the intimacy of many of the first statesmen of Europe. Many had trusted her with the conduct of little matters which the dignity of diplomacy could not stoop to. She had negotiated several little transactions, opened the way to reconciliations, smoothed the road to briberies, and allayed the petty qualms of struggling morality, where any other than a feminine influence would have been coarse and indelicate.

      As a good monarchist, she was always well received at the Austrian Court, and in St. Petersburg was accustomed to be treated with peculiar honor.

      By what amount of compensation, or in what shape administered, Midchekoff had secured her present services, this true history is unable to record; but that Kate was eminently fortunate, drawing such a prize in the lottery of life as to enter the world under her auspices, were facts that she dwelt upon without ceasing.

      Frankness and candor are very charming things. They are the very soul of true friendship, and the spirit of all affectionate interest; but they can be made very disagreeable elements of mere acquaintanceship. Such was Madame de Heidendorf s. She freely told Kate, that of all the great Midchekoff’s unaccountable freaks, his intended marriage with herself was the very strangest; and that to unite his vast fortune and high position with mere beauty was something almost incredible. There was a landgravine of Hohenhôckingen, an Archduchess, a main gauche of the Austrian house itself; there was a granddaughter of the Empress Catherine, with any of whom she could easily have opened negotiations for him, – all of them alliances rich in political influences. Indeed, there was another party, – she was not at liberty to mention the name; and though, to be sure, she was “blind and almost idiotic,” a union with her would eventually have made him a “Serene Highness.” “So you see, my dear,” said she, in winding up, “what you have cost him! Not,” added she, after a few seconds’ pause, – “not but I have known such marriages turn out remarkably well. There was that Prince Adalbert of Bohemia, who married the singing woman, – what’s her name? – that young creature that made such a sensation at the ‘Scala,’ – ’ La Biondina’ they called her. Well, it is true, he only lived with her during the Carnival; but there she is now, with her handsome house in the Bastey, and the prettiest equipage in the Prater. I know several similar cases. The Archduke Max and Prince Ravitzkay, – though, perhaps, not him; for I believe he sent that poor thing away to the mines.”

      “His wife – to the mines!”


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