The Abbot's Ghost, Or Maurice Treherne's Temptation by A. M. Barnard
A >>
A. M. Barnard >> The Abbot's Ghost, Or Maurice Treherne's Temptation
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Martin Agren, Charles Franks, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team
The Abbot's Ghost
or, Maurice Treherne's Temptation
A Christmas Story
By A.M. Barnard
1867
Chapter I
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
"How goes it, Frank? Down first, as usual."
"The early bird gets the worm, Major."
"Deuced ungallant speech, considering that the lovely Octavia is the
worm," and with a significant laugh the major assumed an Englishman's
favorite attitude before the fire.
His companion shot a quick glance at him, and an expression of anxiety
passed over his face as he replied, with a well-feigned air of
indifference, "You are altogether too sharp, Major. I must be on my
guard while you are in the house. Any new arrivals? I thought I heard a
carriage drive up not long ago."
"It was General Snowdon and his charming wife. Maurice Treherne came
while we were out, and I've not seen him yet, poor fellow!"
"Aye, you may well say that; his is a hard case, if what I heard is
true. I'm not booked up in the matter, and I should be, lest I make some
blunder here, so tell me how things stand, Major. We've a good half hour
before dinner. Sir Jasper is never punctual."
"Yes, you've a right to know, if you are going to try your fortune
with Octavia."
The major marched through the three drawing rooms to see that no
inquisitive servant was eavesdropping, and, finding all deserted, he
resumed his place, while young Annon lounged on a couch as he listened
with intense interest to the major's story.
"You know it was supposed that old Sir Jasper, being a bachelor, would
leave his fortune to his two nephews. But he was an oddity, and as the
title _must_ go to young Jasper by right, the old man said Maurice
should have the money. He was poor, young Jasper rich, and it seemed but
just, though Madame Mère was very angry when she learned how the will
was made."
"But Maurice didn't get the fortune. How was that?"
"There was some mystery there which I shall discover in time. All went
smoothly till that unlucky yachting trip, when the cousins were wrecked.
Maurice saved Jasper's life, and almost lost his own in so doing. I
fancy he wishes he had, rather than remain the poor cripple he is.
Exposure, exertion, and neglect afterward brought on paralysis of the
lower limbs, and there he is--a fine, talented, spirited fellow tied to
that cursed chair like a decrepit old man."
"How does he bear it?" asked Annon, as the major shook his gray head,
with a traitorous huskiness in his last words.
"Like a philosopher or a hero. He is too proud to show his despair at
such a sudden end to all his hopes, too generous to complain, for Jasper
is desperately cut up about it, and too brave to be daunted by a
misfortune which would drive many a man mad."
"Is it true that Sir Jasper, knowing all this, made a new will and left
every cent to his namesake?"
"Yes, and there lies the mystery. Not only did he leave it away from
poor Maurice, but so tied it up that Jasper cannot transfer it, and at
his death it goes to Octavia."
"The old man must have been demented. What in heaven's name did he mean
by leaving Maurice helpless and penniless after all his devotion to
Jasper? Had he done anything to offend the old party?"
"No one knows; Maurice hasn't the least idea of the cause of this sudden
whim, and the old man would give no reason for it. He died soon after,
and the instant Jasper came to the title and estate he brought his
cousin home, and treats him like a brother. Jasper is a noble fellow,
with all his faults, and this act of justice increases my respect for
him," said the major heartily.
"What will Maurice do, now that he can't enter the army as he intended?"
asked Annon, who now sat erect, so full of interest was he.
"Marry Octavia, and come to his own, I hope."
"An excellent little arrangement, but Miss Treherne may object," said
Annon, rising with sudden kindling of the eye.
"I think not, if no one interferes. Pity, with women, is akin to love,
and she pities her cousin in the tenderest fashion. No sister could be
more devoted, and as Maurice is a handsome, talented fellow, one can
easily foresee the end, if, as I said before, no one interferes to
disappoint the poor lad again."
"You espouse his cause, I see, and tell me this that I may stand aside.
Thanks for the warning, Major; but as Maurice Treherne is a man of
unusual power in many ways, I think we are equally matched, in spite of
his misfortune. Nay, if anything, he has the advantage of me, for Miss
Treherne pities him, and that is a strong ally for my rival. I'll be as
generous as I can, but I'll _not_ stand aside and relinquish the woman I
love without a trial first."
With an air of determination Annon faced the major, whose keen eyes had
read the truth which he had but newly confessed to himself. Major
Royston smiled as he listened, and said briefly, as steps approached,
"Do your best. Maurice will win."
"We shall see," returned Annon between his teeth.
Here their host entered, and the subject of course was dropped. But the
major's words rankled in the young man's mind, and would have been
doubly bitter had he known that their confidential conversation had been
overheard. On either side of the great fireplace was a door leading to a
suite of rooms which had been old Sir Jasper's. These apartments had
been given to Maurice Treherne, and he had just returned from London,
whither he had been to consult a certain famous physician. Entering
quietly, he had taken possession of his rooms, and having rested and
dressed for dinner, rolled himself into the library, to which led the
curtained door on the right. Sitting idly in his light, wheeled chair,
ready to enter when his cousin appeared, he had heard the chat of Annon
and the major. As he listened, over his usually impassive face passed
varying expressions of anger, pain, bitterness, and defiance, and when
the young man uttered his almost fierce "We shall see," Treherne smiled
a scornful smile and clenched his pale hand with a gesture which proved
that a year of suffering had not conquered the man's spirit, though it
had crippled his strong body.
A singular face was Maurice Treherne's; well-cut and somewhat haughty
features; a fine brow under the dark locks that carelessly streaked it;
and remarkably piercing eyes. Slight in figure and wasted by pain, he
still retained the grace as native to him as the stern fortitude which
enabled him to hide the deep despair of an ambitious nature from every
eye, and bear his affliction with a cheerful philosophy more pathetic
than the most entire abandonment to grief. Carefully dressed, and with
no hint at invalidism but the chair, he bore himself as easily and
calmly as if the doom of lifelong helplessness did not hang over him. A
single motion of the hand sent him rolling noiselessly to the curtained
door, but as he did so, a voice exclaimed behind him, "Wait for me,
cousin." And as he turned, a young girl approached, smiling a glad
welcome as she took his hand, adding in a tone of soft reproach, "Home
again, and not let me know it, till I heard the good news by accident."
"Was it good news, Octavia?" and Maurice looked up at the frank face
with a new expression in those penetrating eyes of his. His cousin's
open glance never changed as she stroked the hair off his forehead with
the caress one often gives a child, and answered eagerly, "The best to
me; the house is dull when you are away, for Jasper always becomes
absorbed in horses and hounds, and leaves Mamma and me to mope by
ourselves. But tell me, Maurice, what they said to you, since you would
not write."
"A little hope, with time and patience. Help me to wait, dear, help
me to wait."
His tone was infinitely sad, and as he spoke, he leaned his cheek
against the kind hand he held, as if to find support and comfort there.
The girl's face brightened beautifully, though her eyes filled, for to
her alone did he betray his pain, and in her alone did he seek
consolation.
"I will, I will with heart and hand! Thank heaven for the hope, and
trust me it shall be fulfilled. You look very tired, Maurice. Why go in
to dinner with all those people? Let me make you cozy here," she added
anxiously.
"Thanks, I'd rather go in, it does me good; and if I stay away, Jasper
feels that he must stay with me. I dressed in haste, am I right,
little nurse?"
She gave him a comprehensive glance, daintily settled his cravat,
brushed back a truant lock, and, with a maternal air that was charming,
said, "My boy is always elegant, and I'm proud of him. Now we'll go in."
But with her hand on the curtain she paused, saying quickly, as a voice
reached her, "Who is that?"
"Frank Annon. Didn't you know he was coming?" Maurice eyed her keenly.
"No, Jasper never told me. Why did he ask him?"
"To please you."
"Me! When he knows I detest the man. No matter, I've got on the color he
hates, so he won't annoy me, and Mrs. Snowdon can amuse herself with
him. The general has come, you know?"
Treherne smiled, well pleased, for no sign of maiden shame or pleasure
did the girl's face betray, and as he watched her while she peeped, he
thought with satisfaction, Annon is right, _I_ have the advantage,
and I'll keep it at all costs.
"Here is Mamma. We must go in," said Octavia, as a stately old lady made
her appearance in the drawing room.
The cousins entered together and Annon watched them covertly, while
seemingly intent on paying his respects to Madame Mère, as his hostess
was called by her family.
"Handsomer than ever," he muttered, as his eye rested on the blooming
girl, looking more like a rose than ever in the peach-colored silk which
he had once condemned because a rival admired it. She turned to reply to
the major, and Annon glanced at Treherne with an irrepressible frown,
for sickness had not marred the charm of that peculiar face, so
colorless and thin that it seemed cut in marble; but the keen eyes shone
with a wonderful brilliancy, and the whole countenance was alive with a
power of intellect and will which made the observer involuntarily
exclaim, "That man must suffer a daily martyrdom, so crippled and
confined; if it last long he will go mad or die."
"General and Mrs. Snowden," announced the servant, and a sudden pause
ensued as everyone looked up to greet the newcomers.
A feeble, white-haired old man entered, leaning on the arm of an
indescribably beautiful woman. Not thirty yet, tall and nobly molded,
with straight black brows over magnificent eyes; rippling dark hair
gathered up in a great knot, and ornamented with a single band of gold.
A sweeping dress of wine-colored velvet, set off with a dazzling neck
and arms decorated like her stately head with ornaments of Roman gold.
At the first glance she seemed a cold, haughty creature, born to dazzle
but not to win. A deeper scrutiny detected lines of suffering in that
lovely face, and behind the veil of reserve, which pride forced her to
wear, appeared the anguish of a strong-willed woman burdened by a heavy
cross. No one would dare express pity or offer sympathy, for her whole
air repelled it, and in her gloomy eyes sat scorn of herself mingled
with defiance of the scorn of others. A strange, almost tragical-looking
woman, in spite of beauty, grace, and the cold sweetness of her manner.
A faint smile parted her lips as she greeted those about her, and as her
husband seated himself beside Lady Treherne, she lifted her head with a
long breath, and a singular expression of relief, as if a burden was
removed, and for the time being she was free. Sir Jasper was at her
side, and as she listened, her eye glanced from face to face.
"Who is with you now?" she asked, in a low, mellow voice that was
full of music.
"My sister and my cousin are yonder. You may remember Tavia as a child,
she is little more now. Maurice is an invalid, but the finest fellow
breathing."
"I understand," and Mrs. Snowdon's eyes softened with a sudden
glance of pity for one cousin and admiration for the other, for she
knew the facts.
"Major Royston, my father's friend, and Frank Annon, my own. Do you know
him?" asked Sir Jasper.
"No."
"Then allow me to make him happy by presenting him, may I?"
"Not now. I'd rather see your cousin."
"Thanks, you are very kind. I'll bring him over."
"Stay, let me go to him," began the lady, with more feeling in face and
voice than one would believe her capable of showing.
"Pardon, it will offend him, he will not be pitied, or relinquish any
of the duties or privileges of a gentleman which he can possibly
perform. He is proud, we can understand the feeling, so let us humor
the poor fellow."
Mrs. Snowdon bowed silently, and Sir Jasper called out in his hearty,
blunt way, as if nothing was amiss with his cousin, "Maurice, I've an
honor for you. Come and receive it."
Divining what it was, Treherne noiselessly crossed the room, and with no
sign of self-consciousness or embarrassment, was presented to the
handsome woman. Thinking his presence might be a restraint, Sir Jasper
went away. The instant his back was turned, a change came over both: an
almost grim expression replaced the suavity of Treherne's face, and Mrs.
Snowdon's smile faded suddenly, while a deep flush rose to her brow, as
her eyes questioned his beseechingly.
"How dared you come?" he asked below his breath.
"The general insisted."
"And you could not change his purpose; poor woman!"
"You will not be pitied, neither will I," and her eyes flashed; then the
fire was quenched in tears, and her voice lost all its pride in a
pleading tone.
"Forgive me, I longed to see you since your illness, and so I
'dared' to come."
"You shall be gratified; look, quite helpless, crippled for life,
perhaps."
The chair was turned from the groups about the fire, and as he spoke,
with a bitter laugh Treherne threw back the skin which covered his
knees, and showed her the useless limbs once so strong and fleet. She
shrank and paled, put out her hand to arrest him, and cried in an
indignant whisper, "No, no, not that! You know I never meant such cruel
curiosity, such useless pain to both--"
"Be still, someone is coming," he returned inaudibly; adding aloud,
as he adjusted the skin and smoothed the rich fur as if speaking of
it, "Yes, it is a very fine one, Jasper gave it to me. He spoils me,
like a dear, generous-hearted fellow as he is. Ah, Octavia, what can
I do for you?"
"Nothing, thank you. I want to recall myself to Mrs. Snowdon's memory,
if she will let me."
"No need of that; I never forget happy faces and pretty pictures. Two
years ago I saw you at your first ball, and longed to be a girl again."
As she spoke, Mrs. Snowdon pressed the hand shyly offered, and smiled at
the spirited face before her, though the shadow in her own eyes deepened
as she met the bright glance of the girl.
"How kind you were that night! I remember you let me chatter away about
my family, my cousin, and my foolish little affairs with the sweetest
patience, and made me very happy by your interest. I was homesick, and
Aunt could never bear to hear of those things. It was before your
marriage, and all the kinder, for you were the queen of the night, yet
had a word for poor little me."
Mrs. Snowdon was pale to the lips, and Maurice impatiently tapped the
arm of his chair, while the girl innocently chatted on.
"I am sorry the general is such an invalid; yet I dare say you find
great happiness in taking care of him. It is so pleasant to be of use to
those we love." And as she spoke, Octavia leaned over her cousin to hand
him the glove he had dropped.
The affectionate smile that accompanied the act made the color deepen
again in Mrs. Snowdon's cheek, and lit a spark in her softened eyes. Her
lips curled and her voice was sweetly sarcastic as she answered, "Yes,
it is charming to devote one's life to these dear invalids, and find
one's reward in their gratitude. Youth, beauty, health, and happiness
are small sacrifices if one wins a little comfort for the poor
sufferers."
The girl felt the sarcasm under the soft words and drew back with a
troubled face.
Maurice smiled, and glanced from one to the other, saying significantly,
"Well for me that my little nurse loves her labor, and finds no
sacrifice in it. I am fortunate in my choice."
"I trust it may prove so--" Mrs. Snowdon got no further, for at that
moment dinner was announced, and Sir Jasper took her away. Annon
approached with him and offered his arm to Miss Treherne, but with an
air of surprise, and a little gesture of refusal, she said coldly:
"My cousin always takes me in to dinner. Be good enough to escort the
major." And with her hand on the arm of the chair, she walked away with
a mischievous glitter in her eyes.
Annon frowned and fell back, saying sharply, "Come, Major, what are you
doing there?"
"Making discoveries."
Chapter II
BYPLAY
A right splendid old dowager was Lady Treherne, in her black velvet and
point lace, as she sat erect and stately on a couch by the drawing-room
fire, a couch which no one dare occupy in her absence, or share
uninvited. The gentlemen were still over their wine, and the three
ladies were alone. My lady never dozed in public, Mrs. Snowdon never
gossiped, and Octavia never troubled herself to entertain any guests but
those of her own age, so long pauses fell, and conversation languished,
till Mrs. Snowdon roamed away into the library. As she disappeared, Lady
Treherne beckoned to her daughter, who was idly making chords at the
grand piano. Seating herself on the ottoman at her mother's feet, the
girl took the still handsome hand in her own and amused herself with
examining the old-fashioned jewels that covered it, a pretext for
occupying her telltale eyes, as she suspected what was coming.
"My dear, I'm not pleased with you, and I tell you so at once, that you
may amend your fault," began Madame Mère in a tender tone, for though a
haughty, imperious woman, she idolized her children.
"What have I done, Mamma?" asked the girl.
"Say rather, what have you left undone. You have been very rude to Mr.
Annon. It must not occur again; not only because he is a guest, but
because he is your--brother's friend."
My lady hesitated over the word "lover," and changed it, for to her
Octavia still seemed a child, and though anxious for the alliance, she
forbore to speak openly, lest the girl should turn willful, as she
inherited her mother's high spirit.
"I'm sorry, Mamma. But how can I help it, when he teases me so that I
detest him?" said Octavia, petulantly.
"How tease, my love?"
"Why, he follows me about like a dog, puts on a sentimental look when I
appear; blushes, and beams, and bows at everything I say, if I am
polite; frowns and sighs if I'm not; and glowers tragically at every man
I speak to, even poor Maurice. Oh, Mamma, what foolish creatures men
are!" And the girl laughed blithely, as she looked up for the first time
into her mother's face.
My lady smiled, as she stroked the bright head at her knee, but asked
quickly, "Why say 'even poor Maurice,' as if it were impossible for
anyone to be jealous of him?"
"But isn't it, Mamma? I thought strong, well men regarded him as one set
apart and done with, since his sad misfortune."
"Not entirely; while women pity and pet the poor fellow, his comrades
will be jealous, absurd as it is."
"No one pets him but me, and I have a right to do it, for he is my
cousin," said the girl, feeling a touch of jealousy herself.
"Rose and Blanche Talbot outdo you, my dear, and there is no cousinship
to excuse them."
"Then let Frank Annon be jealous of them, and leave me in peace. They
promised to come today; I'm afraid something has happened to prevent
them." And Octavia gladly seized upon the new subject. But my lady was
not to be eluded.
"They said they could not come till after dinner. They will soon arrive.
Before they do so, I must say a few words, Tavia, and I beg you to give
heed to them. I desire you to be courteous and amiable to Mr. Annon, and
before strangers to be less attentive and affectionate to Maurice. You
mean it kindly, but it looks ill, and causes disagreeable remarks."
"Who blames me for being devoted to my cousin? Can I ever do enough to
repay him for his devotion? Mamma, you forget he saved your son's life."
Indignant tears filled the girl's eyes, and she spoke passionately,
forgetting that Mrs. Snowdon was within earshot of her raised voice.
With a frown my lady laid her hand on her daughter's lips, saying
coldly, "I do not forget, and I religiously discharge my every
obligation by every care and comfort it is in my power to bestow. You
are young, romantic, and tender-hearted. You think you must give your
time and health, must sacrifice your future happiness to this duty. You
are wrong, and unless you learn wisdom in season, you will find that you
have done harm, not good."
"God forbid! How can I do that? Tell me, and I will be wise in time."
Turning the earnest face up to her own, Lady Treherne whispered
anxiously, "Has Maurice ever looked or hinted anything of love during
this year he has been with us, and you his constant companion?"
"Never, Mamma; he is too honorable and too unhappy to speak or think of
that. I am his little nurse, sister, and friend, no more, nor ever shall
be. Do not suspect us, or put such fears into my mind, else all our
comfort will be spoiled."
Flushed and eager was the girl, but her clear eyes betrayed no tender
confusion as she spoke, and all her thought seemed to be to clear her
cousin from the charge of loving her too well. Lady Treherne looked
relieved, paused a moment, then said, seriously but gently, "This is
well, but, child, I charge you tell me at once, if ever he forgets
himself, for this thing cannot be. Once I hoped it might, now it is
impossible; remember that he continue a friend and cousin, nothing more.
I warn you in time, but if you neglect the warning, Maurice must go. No
more of this; recollect my wish regarding Mr. Annon, and let your cousin
amuse himself without you in public."
"Mamma, do you wish me to like Frank Annon?"
The abrupt question rather disturbed my lady, but knowing her daughter's
frank, impetuous nature, she felt somewhat relieved by this candor, and
answered decidedly, "I do. He is your equal in all respects; he loves
you, Jasper desires it, I approve, and you, being heart-whole, can have
no just objection to the alliance."
"Has he spoken to you?"
"No, to your brother."
"You wish this much, Mamma?"
"Very much, my child."
"I will try to please you, then." And stifling a sigh, the girl kissed
her mother with unwonted meekness in tone and manner.
"Now I am well pleased. Be happy, my love. No one will urge or distress
you. Let matters take their course, and if this hope of ours can be
fulfilled, I shall be relieved of the chief care of my life."
A sound of girlish voices here broke on their ears, and springing up,
Octavia hurried to meet her friends, exclaiming joyfully, "They have
come! they have come!"
Two smiling, blooming girls met her at the door, and, being at an
enthusiastic age, they gushed in girlish fashion for several minutes,
making a pretty group as they stood in each other's arms, all talking at
once, with frequent kisses and little bursts of laughter, as vents for
their emotion. Madame Mère welcomed them and then went to join Mrs.
Snowdon, leaving the trio to gossip unrestrained.
"My dearest creature, I thought we never should get here, for Papa had a
tiresome dinner party, and we were obliged to stay, you know," cried
Rose, the lively sister, shaking out the pretty dress and glancing at
herself in the mirror as she fluttered about the room like a butterfly.
"We were dying to come, and so charmed when you asked us, for we haven't
seen you this age, darling," added Blanche, the pensive one, smoothing
her blond curls after a fresh embrace.
"I'm sorry the Ulsters couldn't come to keep Christmas with us, for we
have no gentlemen but Jasper, Frank Annon, and the major. Sad, isn't
it?" said Octavia, with a look of despair, which caused a fresh peal
of laughter.
"One apiece, my dear, it might be worse." And Rose privately decided to
appropriate Sir Jasper.
"Where is your cousin?" asked Blanche, with a sigh of sentimental
interest.
"He is here, of course. I forget him, but he is not on the flirting
list, you know. We must amuse him, and not expect him to amuse us,
though really, all the capital suggestions and plans for merrymaking
always come from him."
"He is better, I hope?" asked both sisters with real sympathy, making
their young faces womanly and sweet.
"Yes, and has hopes of entire recovery. At least, they tell him so,
though Dr. Ashley said there was no chance of it."
"Dear, dear, how sad! Shall we see him, Tavia?"
"Certainly; he is able to be with us now in the evening, and enjoys
society as much as ever. But please take no notice of his infirmity, and
make no inquiries beyond the usual 'How do you do.' He is sensitive, and
hates to be considered an invalid more than ever."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6