The Adventures of an Ugly Girl. Mrs. George Corbett
him. Look here, child, don’t jump up and look angry, for I really mean it. You are the only woman I would care to marry, and if you refuse to marry me I will have nobody else.”
“Good gracious! how can a girl marry her grandfather? Do you forget that you are my stepmother’s father?”
“And what of that? We are not really related. Now don’t be hasty, my dear. Think of all I can do for you, and of all you can do for me. You shall have anything and everything you want, and be presented at Court. As the Countess of Greatlands you will be courted and sought after. But you can do much more for me than that. You can make the short span of life which yet remains to me perfectly happy. Say yes, my dear, and my love and gratitude will know no bounds.”
But I could not say yes for a while. Yet neither could I say no. My astonishment was almost too great for words. Still, I was not displeased at the dazzling prospect held out to me. Reflect, dear reader, before you blame, that I had always been told that I need never hope to win the affection of any man, and that, while those around me basked in the sunshine of family joys, the man did not exist who would care to cast in his lot with mine. True, this man was old, and he was almost decrepit. But he had singled me out from the many others who would gladly have become Countess of Greatlands. In doing so, he had done me an honor of which I was fully sensible, and it was such a joy to me to have become the best beloved of even an old man that my heart prompted me to say “yes,” as he desired.
Still, certain scruples would obtrude themselves upon my notice, and counseled a little hesitation.
“Belle?” I faltered at last. “I cannot! It would make such a difference to Belle.”
“It will not make the slightest difference to Belle, I assure you, Dorrie. She is too vain and frivolous for me to care about living in the same house with her. Whether I marry or not, Cyril and she will have to content themselves with the dower-house during my lifetime. It is the same with the title. They cannot have it until I am gone, and your present possession of it will not keep them out of it one day after it accrues to them. Come, my dear, end my suspense, and keep the promise you made me a while ago.”
“My father? And Lady Elizabeth?”
“Have no solid objections to offer.”
Neither had I after that. But, somehow, the enraptured kiss with which my old lover sealed our engagement was not the sort of thing I had pictured in my day-dreams, and I involuntarily shivered under his caresses.
“What is it, my little pet, are you cold?” he asked solicitously.
“Just a little,” was my evasive answer. “This room always seems chilly. But that does not matter. Tell me, for it seems so strange, how it is that you actually want to marry me, of all people in the world. Look how ugly I am!”
“You are not ugly to me, my dear. Besides, I am past thinking outward appearance the sole recommendation and guarantee of a happy life. I need more than mere outward beauty.”
“And you think you have found it?”
“I am sure I have found it! And now, my love, with your permission, I will remain here until your father comes. I shall see you again later in the day.”
Having thus virtually received my dismissal, I sped up to my own room, but not before my ardent lover had claimed another kiss as his due.
Did I feel glad?
Or did I feel dismayed?
I was really unable to tell myself which sensation predominated. I met Belle on the landing, and was conscious of a strange feeling of trepidation, which made me slink into my own room like some one guilty of a mean action.
Oh, dear! how could I ever face them all? I thought. How could I ever have the presumption to pose as the superior in rank and family prestige to my beloved stepmother? Why, if I married her father, I should be her stepmother. And my sister’s mother-in-law! And my father’s mother-in-law, too! And—could it be possible?—my own step-grandmother! There were no end of complications involved in the new arrangement; and, as I pondered over them, I became more and more doubtful as to the propriety of accepting the grand future held out to me. And yet, if I could do so without repugnance on my part, and with an honest determination to prove that the earl had acted wisely in selecting me as the wife of his old age, why should I not become a great lady? Why—
But my conjectures were interrupted at this juncture by a very unusual event. Belle had actually come to visit me in my own room! I knew instinctively, however, that her visit boded me no good, and when I looked up into her face, I saw that she was in a demoniacal temper.
“Is it true?” she cried, as she flung herself on a chair just in front of me. “Is it true that you have actually deluded that old imbecile into offering marriage to you? My father has just told me that you are to become the Countess of Greatlands at a very early date. But the news is too monstrous for belief! A hideous little reptile like you to lord it over me! A shrimp of a girl, whose gauchérie and ill-manners are proverbial, to dare to assume airs of superiority over me! I tell you it shall not be. I will not have it. Sooner than endure such a humiliation I would—I would—”
“And pray what would you do?” I asked, not with the compunction I had felt a while ago at the idea of relegating my beautiful sister to a secondary position. Nor yet with the anger which had blazed up in me on hearing the commencement of her virago-like harangue. But with the cool contempt of one who feels that her position is impregnable, and that her assailant is beneath consideration. “And how will you prevent an arrangement with which you are not of sufficient importance to be permitted to interfere?”
Perhaps it was astonishment at the unwonted courage with which I met her assault. Perhaps it was a sudden access of prudence. But whatever the cause, the effect was the same. Belle declined to tell me how she would prevent my marriage with the earl. But she continued to revile me for some minutes as treacherous, deceitful and scheming, and wound up by saying that I need not congratulate myself upon my seeming triumph, as Lord Egreville would certainly not permit his father to perpetrate the folly he contemplated, even if he had to swear that he was no longer responsible for his actions.
To all this I steadfastly refused any further reply, and, becoming tired of leveling abuse which seemed to make no impression, Belle left the room as suddenly as she had entered it. Once alone, I found that my own feelings with regard to the coming event had undergone a complete revolution. I no longer entertained the slightest doubt as to the propriety of having consented to accept the earl. On the contrary, I was strongly determined to fulfill my promise, and to remove myself forever from the tyranny of Belle’s reproaches and airs of superiority. Very much to my own surprise, too, I felt very indignant at the slights cast upon the earl, and found my heart warm considerably toward him. For, when I came to think of it, he had always treated me kindly, and even when I thought he was deliberately insulting me, he must really have meant what he said. That his taste was peculiar, to say the least, was patent even to myself, but that was all the more reason for gratitude and love on my part.
Gratitude? Yes, that was undoubted. Love? Why not? Surely it is not so very hard for the one to engender the other.
Presently Lady Elizabeth came to my door and asked my permission to enter. This was readily given, though I already felt very much overwrought, and dreaded the coming interview. But I need not have been uneasy about that; for, as usual, my good stepmother had only my welfare at heart.
“I am afraid Belle has been giving you an uncomfortable time of it,” she said, drawing a chair toward me and kissing me affectionately. “She is fuming in the drawing-room, and has sent for Cyril to consult with him as to what is best to be done in this remarkable crisis.”
“And you?” I asked beseechingly. “Do you think I have been a scheming, wicked girl, and that I have done wrong in accepting the earl?”
“Certainly not, my child. I have known for some time that my father wished to make you his wife. Indeed, he consulted me as to the wisdom of doing so, and I gave my unqualified approval to his project. Seeing that he had set his heart on having a young wife, I