There was unbroken silence for some minutes; then Lillian bent over her sister, and said:
"Tell me all, darling; perhaps I can help you."
"I promised to be his wife, Lily," continued Beatrice. "I am sure I did not mean it. I was but a child. I did not realize all that the words meant. He kissed my face, and said he should come to claim me. Believe me, Lily, I never thought of marriage.
Brilliant pictures of foreign lands filled my mind; I looked upon Hugh Fernely only as a means of escape from a life I detested.
He promised to take me to places the names of which filled me with wonder. I never thought of leaving you or mamma--I never thought of the man himself as of a lover."
"You did not care for him, then, as you do for Lord Airlie?" interposed Lillian.
"Do not pain me!" begged Beatrice. "I love Hubert with the love that comes but once in life; that man was nothing to me except that his flattery, and the excitement of contriving to meet him, made my life more endurable. He gave me a ring, and said in two years' time he should return to claim me. He was going on a long voyage. Lily, I felt relieved when he was gone--the novelty was over--I had grown tired. Besides, when the glamour fell from my eyes, I was ashamed of what I had done. I tried to forget all about him; every time the remembrance of him came to my mind I drove it from me. I did not think it possible he would ever return. It was but a summer's pastime. That summer has darkened my life. Looking back, I own I did very wrong. There is great blame attaching to me, but surely they who shut me out from the living world were blameworthy also.
"Remember all through my story, darling, that I am not so good, not so patient and gentle as you. I was restless at the Elms, like a bird in a cage; you were content. I was vain, foolish, and willful; but, looking back at the impetuous, imperious child, full of romance, untrained, longing for the strife of life, longing for change, for excitement, for gayety, chafing under restraint, I think there was some little excuse for me. There was no excuse for what followed. When papa spoke to us--you remember it, Lily--and asked so gently if we had either of us a secret in our lives--when he promised to pardon anything, provided we kept nothing from him--I ought to have told him then. There is no excuse for that error. I was ashamed.
Looking round upon the noble faces hanging on the wall, looking at him, so proud, so dignified, I could not tell him what his child had done. Oh, Lily, if I had told him, I should not be kneeling here at your feet now."
Lillian made no reply, but pressed the proud, drooping figure more closely to her side.
"I can hardly tell the rest," said Beatrice; "the words frighten me as I utter them. This man, who has been the bane of my life, was going away for two years. He was to claim me when he returned. I never thought he would return; I was so happy, I could not believe it." Here sobs choked her utterance.
Presently she continued: "Lily, he is here; he claims me, and also the fulfillment of my promise to be his wife."
A look of unutterable dread came over the listener's fair, pitying face.
"He wrote to me three weeks since; I tried to put him off. He wrote again this morning, and swears he will see me. He will be here tonight at nine o'clock. Oh, Lily, save me, save me, or I shall die!"
Bitter sobs broke from the proud lips.
"I never knelt to any one before," Beatrice said; "I kneel to you, my sister. No one else can help me. You must see him for me, give him a letter from me, and tell him I am very ill. It is no untruth, Lily. I am ill, my brain burns, and my heart is cold with fear. Will you do this for me?"
"I would rather almost give you my life," said Lillian gently.
"Oh, do not say that, Lily! Do you know what there is at stake?
Do you remember papa's words--that, if ever he found one of us guilty of any deceit, or involved in any clandestine love affair, even if it broke his heart he would send the guilty one from him and never see her again? Think, darling, what it would be for me to leave Earlescourt--to leave all the magnificence I love so dearly, and drag out a weary life at the Elms. Do you think I could brook Lord Earle's angry scorn and Lady Helena's pained wonder? Knowing our father as you know him, do you believe he would pardon me?"
"I do not," replied Lily, sadly.
"That is not all," continued Beatrice. "I might bear anger, scorn, and privation, but, Lily, if this miserable secret is discovered, Lord Airlie will cease to love me. He might have forgiven me if I had told him at first; he would not know that I had lied to him and deceived him. I can not lose him--I can not give him up. For our mother's sake, for my sake, help me, Lily.
Do what I have asked!"
"If I do it," said Lillian, "it will give you but a few days' reprieve; it will avail nothing; he will be here again."
"I shall think of some means of escape in a few days," answered Beatrice wistfully. "Something must happen, Lily, fortune could not be so cruel to me; it could not rob me of my love. If I can not free myself, I shall run away. I would rather suffer anything than face Lord Airlie or my father. Say you will help me for my love's sake! Do not let me lose my love!"
"I will help you," said Lillian; "it is against my better judgment--against my idea of right--but I can not refuse you.
