University of Virginia Library

26. CHAPTER XXVI.
HOW HENRIETTA RETURNED THE DIAMOND NECKLACE.

They descended to the lawn.

“I am glad you came, sir,” said Henrietta to the Captain.

That gentleman assumed a delighted expression of countenance,
and replied:

“Really, my dear Madam Henriette, you flatter me extremely.”

“Flatter you, sir?”

“Yes, morbleu!”

“How, sir?”

“Why, when a lady says in a soft, charming voice, and
with a tender glance, to one of the ruder sex, `Ah! I am
glad you came!' what can it be but an exhibition of extraordinary
regard, and how can the rude individual aforesaid
prevent himself from experiencing a sentiment of pleasure at
such a flattering observation?”

Henrietta listened to this reply, and said, satirically,
when the Captain had finished:

“You are slightly mistaken, sir—in two things.”

“What are they?” asked the Captain, with great anxiety.

“First, sir, I did not speak in a `soft, charming voice'—

“Ah, madam,” commenced the gallant Captain.

“Let me proceed, sir: nor with a `tender glance'—tender,
indeed!”

And Miss Henrietta pouted.

“See now,” said the Captain, “there is another illustration
of a fact which I have always asserted.”

“Pray, what fact, sir?”

“That we do not ourselves know the tone in which we
speak—are wholly ignorant of the expression of our eyes,
morbleu!”

And after this audacious bit of philosophy, the soldier
looked around him, with a delighted and self-satisfied air, at
the grass, the trees, the various pleasant objects visible on
the well-kept lawn they were traversing.

Henrietta felt a strong disposition to take her hand from
the arm of her companion; but this feeling of pique soon
passed: she had almost learned to bear the soldier's banter
by this time.

“I did not doubt, sir, when I denied having flattered
you,” she said, with a somewhat satirical expression, “that
you would, with your extreme fertility of invention, find
some proof of the assertion you made; but jesting aside,
Captain Waters, I wished to see you; and that is the simple
truth.”

“There again!”

The young girl took no notice of this triumphant exclamation,
and drew from her reticule the oblong morocco
case, which we have seen her win upon the day of the race.

“About this, sir,” she said.

The Captain perused the clouds.

“Yes,” he replied; “nothing could be truer!—a charming
afternoon.”

And he looked around with great satisfaction.

“The necklace, sir—”

“I agree with you.”

“Is entirely too—”

“Yes, they are equal to nightingales. As you observed,
the song of the oriole is as clear and musical as a silver
trumpet!”

“I observed no such thing, sir,” said Henrietta, piqued
at the wanderings of her companion.

“Ah!” said the Captain, readily, “but you might have
said it; for nothing could be more just. I have heard the
Bendermere nightingales—the birds who love the roses so,
you are aware, my dear Mademoiselle Henrietta, in Gulistan,
which signifies, if I am not mistaken, `Land of Roses.' Well,
I give you my parole d'honneur I don't think they are much
finer than that oriole.”

“Captain Waters!”

“Yes, he's a glorious fellow—looks as if he was singing
himself away into smoke. I expect to see him rise to the
clouds in a moment, like the curl rising up from those graceful
pipes yonder.”

This beautiful illustration did not satisfy Henrietta, who
was more and more piqued.

“Captain Waters, will you or will you not listen to me?”
she said, pouting.

“Listen to you? How could you ask such a question?”
said the Captain, gallantly.

“Well, sir, as it is so pleasant to hear my voice—”

“It is pure music!”

“Be good enough, sir—”

“Ah, I am very bad!”

“To listen while I speak ten consecutive words.”

“Fifteen, fifteen,” said the Captain, generously.

“Very well, sir—a little of your attention also. I trust
ten words will be enough.”

“I will give you twenty-five—thirty,” said the Captain,

with a noble and enlarged liberality; “I will even listen if
you honor me by conversing throughout the ensuing night.”

Henrietta uttered a little sigh, which meant plainly,
“Was there ever such a provoking man to talk to!”

“I am dreadfully disagreeable, I know,” said the Captain,
translating his companion's sighs into words as usual,
“but you are going to weary me to death about that miserable
necklace. You are going to make me send it back to
the port of New York to have it altered, re-set, something.”

“No, sir.”

“What then?”

“I wish you to send it back to be retained, or present it
to some one else.”

“How so?”

“I cannot accept it, sir.”

“Accept!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why, you won it fairly; it is the spoils of a fair battle
—of your bow and spear: you won it.”

“No, I did not, Captain Waters. I laid a very ridiculous
wager—of a trifle against a trifle, I thought. My
stake—I believe that is the word—was this curl—”

“Which reminds me that I won it on the final result!”
cried the Captain. “Come, pay your debts, morbleu! my
dear Madam Henriette.”

“For heaven's sake, sir, let me go on.”

“You have finished the thirty words,” said the Captain,
with ready logic. “My curl! my curl!”

Henrietta, in a paroxysm of impatience, pulled down
and bit the curl in two, and threw it in the direction of her
companion. The Captain extended his hand and received it
as it fell.

“Parbleu, 'tis far more valuable than I expected!” he
cried; “as far more valuable as a row of pearls are than a
pair of miserable and unhappy scissors!”

Henrietta could not retain a smile at this grotesque and
ridiculous speech; which, like all the Captain's observations,
seemed to be intended solely to defer the subject he wished
to avoid.

“I am pleased to hear that my teeth are pearls,” she

said; “I did not know it before, sir. And now—but for
heaven's sake what are you doing, sir?”

The Captain, in fact, was holding his sword up before him,
point down. He made no reply, but touching a little spring,
opened the hilt, and deposited the curl in the cavity. After
performing this remarkable operation, he lowered the weapon
again, and twirled his moustache.

“That is my receptacle for title deeds, curls, and other
valuables, ma foi!” he said; “that is to say, it will be if
I ever get any title deeds. But I have made a good beginning!”

And he burst into laughter, significantly. Henrietta
chose not to understand this laugh—perhaps did not—and
said:

“When you interrupted me, sir, I was about to say that
I laid a wager with you, and staked what I considered a
trifle—”

“No, no!” interposed the Captain.

“Against what I thought was equally unimportant,”
continued Henrietta.

“The curl was much the more costly,” said the Captain,
“and morbleu! I will not now exchange.”

“You exacted a promise from me,” continued Henrietta,
not heeding these interruptions, “that I would not open the
case until I returned home. I did not, thinking it some
trifle. Instead of a trifle it is a magnificent diamond necklace.”

And opening the case, she drew out the necklace, which
was of extraordinary beauty and value. The diamonds were
very large, and set in the most tasteful manner. The bauble
must have been worth at least a thousand guineas.

“Take it, Captain Waters,” said Henrietta, “I cannot
keep it.”

“How vexatious,” said the Captain very seriously; “what
in the world am I to do with it? Besides, I am not entitled
to it—you know very well I am not, madam.”

“I do not consider the wager binding, sir; I cannot accept
it.”

“Answer, now, did you not confess the other day at
Effingham Hall,” continued the Captain, readily, “that I had
caused you to break your own necklace?”

“Yes, sir.”

The Captain looked triumphant.

“But, sir,” said Henrietta, “that was in one of those
piques which I am afraid I have indulged in very frequently
in your presence.”

“Yes, I am a terrible annoyer!”

“I meant to blame myself, sir,” said the young girl; “I
am somewhat quick, and I now embrace the opportunity to
say that I trust you will pardon any harsh words I have
been led to utter.”

“Harsh! it is impossible that you could!” cried the
soldier, delighted at getting away from the subject of the
necklace.

“Very well, sir; I am glad you think so well of me.
Now take the necklace.”

And she held it out. The Captain became again despairing.

“Why you have a double claim to it,” he said; “first,
I broke your own; secondly, and lastly, you have fairly
won this.”

“My hand is almost tired, sir.”

“What am I to do?” cried the Captain, disconsolately;
“if I take that back to my house it will lie about—be thrown
here and there; Lanky will perhaps take possession, and
Donsy Smith will be the ultimate possessor!”

With which words the Captain groaned.

“Lanky?—Donsy Smith? Who in the world are they?”

“The first is my servant, the second his sweetheart,”
said the Captain, ready to weep.

Henrietta burst into a laugh.

“Do you really mean that you would permit your servant
to take such a beautiful necklace?” she said, admiring
the glittering jewels.

“What could I do with them?” asked the forlorn soldier;
“besides, I think they would become my honest retainer's
sweetheart—Donsy. She is a charming little creature!”

“How? Do you know her?”

“Yes, indeed—very intimately. She had a pleasant ride
with me the other day.”

Miss Henrietta imagined a picture of Captain Waters in

the saddle, with the arms of a “charming little creature”
round his waist as she rode behind, and was not much
pleased with the effort of her fancy.

“Donsy is a fine, bright faced girl,—very lady-like and
pleasing; they would suit her,” said the Captain, with a
thoughtful sigh. “Yes, yes, she's a sweet creature, and I
nearly threw Lanky into a fever some weeks since, by announcing
my intention to enter the lists as his rival.”

“You, sir?” said Henrietta.

This exclamation did not displease the Captain.

“Yes, yes, my dear madam, even me. She would make
me a capital wife, and I assure you I am becoming tired of
single blessedness. In one word, I want a wife.”

Henrietta made no reply.

“Stop!” continued the Captain, “you must have seen
Donsy, down there at the races!”

“I, sir?” said Henrietta, coldly.

“Why, yes! Do you not recollect a lovely little creature,
of seventeen or thereabouts, who won the finely-bound
volumes of ballads in the singing match after the race?”

“I believe I saw her,” said Henrietta, with the freezing
air of a duchess.

“Well, that was Donsy,” said the Captain, apparently
absorbed in the bright memory, and fixing his eyes thoughtfully
on the clouds.

“And you would marry this little—”

Henrietta stopped; she could not find a word.

“Fairy?” suggested the Captain, cheerfully; “why I
do not see any objection beyond the affection Lanky bears
her. You know, my dear Mam'selle Henrietta, that I am
not of very excellent family—as opinions go, for, frankly
speaking, I think I am. My father is an old fishmonger,—
the name applied derisively, you will recollect, by my Lord
Hamlet, to the counsellor Polonius. Charley's a small farmer;
Beatrice was an actress. Charley's my brother;
Beatrice my sister. We are all poor, but honest,” continued
the Captain, laughing, “and I think the bon père—
health to him!—is the most honest of all!”

With which words the Captain looked cheerfully, and
with a fine light on his martial features, toward the west.

Henrietta, for a moment, made no reply, the hand holding

the necklace hanging at her side. Then, looking at the
martial face, which, with its high and proud look, and its
warlike appendages, towered above her, flooded with the red
sunset, brow, and eyes and cheeks,—the brow and cheeks
browned by sun and wind,—the clear eyes, giving back the
golden flush of evening, she said in a low voice:

“Captain Waters, why do you so incessantly allude to
this subject of birth? Do you fancy for a moment, sir,
that I do not consider you as true a gentleman as the noblest
in the land? That I am blind to the fact that you
are a brave soldier and a refined man, worthy of all respect?
You cannot think that I consider you ashamed of your
birth! Why, then, say this so often?”

“Ashamed of my birth? True, I am not, my dear
Mam'selle Henriette,” said the Captain. “The bon père
is a nobleman; Charley's a seigneur—chevalier of the middle
ages; and Beatrice,—parbleu! Beatrice is a born
duchess!”

And the Captain burst into laughter.

“We are all sovereigns—for we're honest!” he continued,
with a quick change in his expression to an aspect
of noble pride. “My father, mam'selle, is brave and honest,
and with a great heart—morbleu! a noble, kindly, generous
heart; I am indifferent ready with my hand, to open
it, or close it on a sword hilt,—that is my profession; Beatrice
is a wealthy, golden nature, as true as she is beautiful,
as good and pure as she is lovely; and Charley—tonnere!
my dear madam, my brother Charley is one of those natures
which are very seldom met with. I have seen dukes and
generals, lords and ministers; I have heard all talk; I have
seen all speak with those noble lips, the eyes: well, madam,
I have never met a more powerful soul than Charley's. He
has the strength of calmness;—but I am wearying you.
Enough—no! you are right, my dear madam,—I, perhaps,
have even too high an opinion of my family!”

And, after this outburst, which, every word of it, was
spoken with a proud sincerity which lit up the martial features,
like the sunset, Captain Ralph was silent.

Henrietta replied, in a low voice:

“This was not necessary, sir.”

And she held up the necklace for him to take.

“Oh, heaven preserve me! I thought we had dropped
that subject!” said the soldier, resuming his tone of vexation
and humor.

“I cannot accept such a valuable present, sir,” said the
young girl, with some embarrassment.

“Then oblige me by keeping it for me,” said the soldier.
“I really have no receptacle for it.”

Henrietta hesitated.

“You need not wear it, my dear mam'selle,” he said.

Henrietta hesitated still.

“Well,” said the Captain, “I suppose Donsy must have
it;—morbleu! 'tis vexatious, for here your name is engraved
upon it beneath here—at least, your initials, my dear Miss
Henriette; and I must send back the bauble to have them
erased. See!”

And pointing to a small gold plate, he showed her the
letters H. L.; but these letters were so engraved that space
was left upon the plate for another letter.

She understood; a deep blush suffused her face; her
head drooped.

“Will you not keep it?” said the Captain.

“Yes,” she said, in a lower tone than she had yet
spoken.

A brilliant light illuminated the martial features of the
soldier, and they walked on in silence.