CHAPTER V. "IF LADIES BE BUT YOUNG AND FAIR"
No boyhood could have been happier than mine, and throughout it, everpresent with me, were a shadow and a light. The shadow was my UncleGrafton. I know not what strange intuition of the child made me thinkof him so constantly after that visit he paid us, but often I would wakefrom my sleep with his name upon my lips, and a dread at my heart. Thelight--need I say?--was Miss Dorothy Manners. Little Miss Dolly wasoften at the Hall after that happy week we spent together; and herhome, Wilmot House, was scarce three miles across wood and field by ourplantation roads. I was a stout little fellow enough, and before I wastwelve I had learned to follow to hounds my grandfather's guests on mypony; and Mr. Lloyd and Mr. Carvel when they shot on the duck points.Ay, and what may surprise you, my dears, I was given a weak littletoddy off the noggin at night, while the gentlemen stretched their limbsbefore the fire, or played at whist or loo Mr. Carvel would have nomilksop, so he said. But he early impressed upon me that moderation wasthe mark of a true man, even as excess was that of a weak one.
And so it was no wonder that I frequently found my way to Wilmot Housealone. There I often stayed the whole day long, romping with Dolly atgames of our own invention, and many the time I was sent home after darkby Mrs. Manners with Jim, the groom. About once in the week Mr. and Mrs.Manners would bring Dorothy over for dinner or tea at the Hall. She grewquickly--so quickly that I scarce realized--into a tall slip of a girl,who could be wilful and cruel, laughing or forgiving, shy or impudent,in a breath. She had as many moods as the sea. I have heard herentertain Mr. Lloyd and Mr. Bordley and the ladies, and my grandfather,by the hour, while I sat by silent and miserable, but proud of her allthe same. Boylike, I had grown to think of her as my possession, tho'she gave me no reason whatever. I believe I had held my hand over firefor her, at a word. And, indeed, I did many of her biddings to make mewonder, now, that I was not killed. It used to please her, Ivie too, tosee me go the round of the windmill, tho' she would cry out after I leftthe ground. And once, when it was turning faster than common and Ivienot there to prevent, I near lost my hold at the top, and was thrownat the bottom with such force that I lay stunned for a full minute. Iopened my eyes to find her bending over me with such a look of frightand remorse upon her face as I shall never forget. Again, walking out onthe bowsprit of the 'Oriole' while she stood watching me from the dock,I lost my balance and fell into the water. On another occasion I foughtWill Fotheringay, whose parents had come for a visit, because he daredsay he would marry her.
"She is to marry an earl," I cried, tho' I had thrashed another lad forsaying so. "Mr. Manners is to take her home when she is grown, to marryher to an earl."
"At least she will not marry you, Master Richard," sneered Will. Andthen I hit him.
Indeed, even at that early day the girl's beauty was enough to make hertalked about. And that foolish little fop, her father, had more thanonce declared before a company in our dining room that it was high timeanother title came into his family, and that he meant to take Dollyabroad when she was sixteen. Lad that I was, I would mark with pain theblush on Mrs. Manners's cheek, and clinch my fists as she tried to passthis off as a joke of her husband's. But Dolly, who sat next me at aside table, would make a wry little face at my angry one.
"You shall call me 'my lady,' Richard. And sometimes, if you are good,you shall ride inside my coroneted coach when you come home."
Ah, that was the worst of it! The vixen was conscious of her beauty. Buther airs were so natural that young and old bowed before her. Nothingbut worship had she had from the cradle. I would that Mr. Peale hadpainted her in her girlhood as a type of our Maryland lady of quality.Harvey was right when he called her a thoroughbred. Her nose wasof patrician straightness, and the curves of her mouth came fromgenerations of proud ancestors. And she had blue eyes to conquer andsubdue; with long lashes to hide them under when she chose, and blackhair with blue gloss upon it in the slanting lights. I believe I lovedher best in the riding-habit that was the colour of the red holly in ourMaryland woods. At Christmas-tide, when we came to the eastern shore, wewould gallop together through miles of country, the farmers and servantstipping and staring after her as she laid her silver-handled whip uponher pony. She knew not the meaning of fear, and would take a fence or aditch that a man might pause at. And so I fell into the habit of leadingher the easy way round, for dread that she would be hurt.
How those Christmas times of childhood come sweeping back on my memory!Often, and without warning, my grandfather would say to me: "Richard,we shall celebrate at the Hall this year." And it rarely turned out thatarrangements had not been made with the Lloyds and the Bordleys and theManners, and other neighbours, to go to the country for the holidays. Ihave no occasion in these pages to mention my intimacy with the sons anddaughters of those good friends of the Carvels', Colonel Lloyd and Mr.Bordley. Some of them are dead now, and the rest can thank God andlook back upon worthy and useful lives. And if any of these, my oldplaymates, could read this manuscript, perchance they might feel atingle of recollection of Children's Day, when Maryland was a province.We rarely had snow; sometimes a crust upon the ground that was meltedinto paste by the noonday sun, but more frequently, so it seems to me, afoggy, drizzly Christmas, with the fires crackling in saloon and lady'schamber. And when my grandfather and the ladies and gentlemen, hisguests, came down the curving stairs, there were the broadly smilingservants drawn up in the wide hall,--all who could gather there,--andthe rest on the lawn outside, to wish "Merry Chris'mas" to "de quality."The redemptioners in front, headed by Ivie and Jonas Tree, tho' they hadlong served their terms, and with them old Harvey and his son; next thehouse blacks and the outside liveries, and then the oldest slaves fromthe quarters. This line reached the door, which Scipio would throw openat "de quality's" appearance, disclosing the rest of the field servants,in bright-coloured gowns, and the little negroes on the green. Then Mr.Carvel would make them a little speech of thanks and of good-will,and white-haired Johnson of the senior quarters, who had been with mygreat-grandfather, would start the carol in a quaver. How clear andsweet the melody of those negro voices comes back to me throughthe generations! And the picture of the hall, loaded with holly andmistletoe even to the great arch that spanned it, with the generousbowls of egg-nog and punch on the mahogany by the wall! And the ladiesour guests, in cap and apron, joining in the swelling hymn; ay, and themen, too. And then, after the breakfast of sweet ham and venison, andhot bread and sausage, made under Mrs. Willis, and tea and coffee andchocolate steaming in the silver, and ale for the gentlemen if theypreferred, came the prayers and more carols in the big drawing-room.And then music in the big house, or perhaps a ride afield to greet theneighbours, and fiddling and dancing in the two big quarters, Hank's andJohnson's, when the tables were cleared after the bountiful feast Mr.Carvel was wont to give them. There was no stint, my dears,--naught butgood cheer and praising God in sheer happiness at Carvel Hall.
At night there was always a ball, sometimes at Wilmot House, sometimesat Colonel Lloyd's or Mr. Bordley's, and sometimes at Carvel Hall, formy grandfather dearly loved the company of the young. He himself wouldlead off the minuet,--save when once or twice his Excellency GovernorSharpe chanced to be present,--and would draw his sword with the younggallants that the ladies might pass under. And I have seen him joinmerrily in the country dances too, to the clapping of hands of thecompany. That was before Dolly and I were let upon the floor. We satwith the other children, our mammies at our sides, in the narrow gallerywith the tiny rail that ran around the ball-room, where the sweet odourof the green myrtleberry candles mixed with that of the powder andperfume of the dancers. And when the beauty of the evening was ledout, Dolly would lean over the rail, and pout and smile by turns. Themischievous little baggage could hardly wait for the conquering years tocome.
They came soon enough, alack! The season Dorothy was fourteen, we had aball at the Hall the last day of the year. When she was that age she hadnear arrived at her growth, and was fu
ll as tall as many young ladiesof twenty. I had cantered with her that morning from Wilmot House to Mr.Lloyd's, and thence to Carvel Hall, where she was to stay to dinner. Thesun was shining warmly, and after young Harvey had taken our horses westrayed through the house, where the servants were busy decorating, andout into my grandfather's old English flower garden, and took the seatby the sundial. I remember that it gave no shadow. We sat silent fora while, Dorothy toying with old Knipe, lying at our feet, and humminggayly the burden of a minuet. She had been flighty on the ride, withscarce a word to say to me, for the prospect of the dance had gone toher head.
"Have you a new suit to wear to-night, to see the New Year in, MasterSober?" she asked presently, looking up. "I am to wear a brocade thatcame out this autumn from London, and papa says I look like a duchesswhen I have my grandmother's pearls."
"Always the ball!" cried I, slapping my boots in a temper. "Is it, then,such a matter of importance? I am sure you have danced before--at mybirthdays in Marlboro' Street and at your own, and Will Fotheringay's,and I know not how many others."
"Of course," replies Dolly, sweetly; "but never with a real man. Boyslike you and Will and the Lloyds do not count. Dr. Courtenay is atWilmot House, and is coming to-night; and he has asked me out. Think ofit, Richard! Dr. Courtenay!"
"A plague upon him! He is a fop!"
"A fop!" exclaimed Dolly, her humour bettering as mine went down. "Oh,no; you are jealous. He is more sought after than any gentleman at theassemblies, and Miss Dulany vows his steps are ravishing. There's foryou, my lad! He may not be able to keep pace with you in the chase, buthe has writ the most delicate verses ever printed in Maryland, and noother man in the colony can turn a compliment with his grace. Shall Itell you more? He sat with me for over an hour last night, until mammasent me off to bed, and was very angry at you because I had engaged toride with you to-day."
"And I suppose you wish you had stayed with him," I flung back,hotly. "He had spun you a score of fine speeches and a hundred emptycompliments by now."
"He had been better company than you, sir," she laughed provokingly."I never heard you turn a compliment in your life, and you are nowseventeen. What headway do you expect to make at the assemblies?"
"None," I answered, rather sadly than otherwise. For she had touched meupon a sore spot. "But if I cannot win a woman save by compliments," Iadded, flaring up, "then may I pay a bachelor's tax!"
My lady drew her whip across my knee.
"You must tell us we are beautiful, Richard," said she, in another tone.
"You have but to look in a pier-glass," I retorted. "And, besides, thatis not sufficient. You will want some rhyming couplet out of a mythologybefore you are content."
She laughed again.
"Sir," answered she, "but you have wit, if you can but be got angry."
She leaned over the dial's face, and began to draw the Latin numeralswith her finger. So arch, withal, that I forgot my ill-humour.
"If you would but agree to stay angry for a day," she went on, in a lowtone, "perhaps--"
"Perhaps?"
"Perhaps you would be better company," said Dorothy. "You would surelybe more entertaining."
"Dorothy, I love you," I said.
"To be sure. I know that," she replied. "I think you have said thatbefore."
I admitted it sadly. "But I should be a better husband than Dr.Courtenay."
"La!" cried she; "I am not thinking of husbands. I shall have a goodtime, sir, I promise you, before I marry. And then I should never marryyou. You are much too rough, and too masterful. And you would requireobedience. I shall never obey any man. You would be too strict a master,sir. I can see it with your dogs and your servants. And your friends,too. For you thrash any boy who does not agree with you. I want no roughsquire for a husband. And then, you are a Whig. I could never marrya Whig. You behaved disgracefully at King William's School last year.Don't deny it!"
"Deny it!" I cried warmly; "I would as soon deny that you are an arrantflirt, Dorothy Manners, and will be a worse one."
"Yes, I shall have my fling," said the minx. "I shall begin to-night,with you for an audience. I shall make the doctor look to himself. Butthere is the dressing-bell." And as we went into the house, "I believemy mother is a Whig, Richard. All the Brices are."
"And yet you are a Tory?"
"I am a loyalist," says my lady, tossing her head proudly; "and we areone day to kiss her Majesty's hand, and tell her so. And if I were theQueen," she finished in a flash, "I would teach you surly gentlemen notto meddle."
And she swept up the stairs so stately, that Scipio was moved to sayslyly: "Dem's de kind of ladies, Marse Richard, I jes dotes t' wait on!"
Of the affair at King William's School I shall tell later.
We had some dozen guests staying at the Hall for the ball. At dinner mygrandfather and the gentlemen twitted her, and laughed heartily at herapt retorts, and even toasted her when she was gone. The ladies shooktheir heads and nudged one another, and no doubt each of the mothershad her notion of what she would do in Mrs. Manners's place. But when mylady came down dressed for the ball in her pink brocade with the pearlsaround her neck, fresh from the hands of Nester and those of her owntremulous mammy, Mr. Carvel must needs go up to her and hold her atarm's length in admiration, and then kiss her on both her cheeks.Whereat she blushed right prettily.
"Bless me!" says he; "and can this be Richard's little playmate grown?Upon my word, Miss Dolly, you'll be the belle of the ball. Eh, Lloyd?Bless me, bless me, you must not mind a kiss from an old man. The youngones may have their turn after a while." He laughed as my grandfatheronly could laugh, and turned to me, who had reddened to my forehead."And so, Richard, she has outstripped you, fair and square. You are onlyan awkward lad, and she--why, i' faith, in two years she'll be beyondmy protection. Come, Miss Dolly," says he; "I'll show you the mistletoe,that you may beware of it."
And he led her off on his arm. "The old year and the new, gentlemen!"he cried merrily, as he passed the door, with Dolly's mammy and Nestersimpering with pride on the landing.
The company arrived in coach and saddle, many having come so far thatthey were to stay the night. Young Mr. Beall carried his bride on apillion behind him, her red riding-cloak flung over her ball dress.Mr. Bordley and family came in his barge, Mr. Marmaduke and his wife incoach and four. With them was Dr. Courtenay, arrayed in peach-colouredcoat and waistcoat, with black satin breeches and white silk stockings,and pinchbeck buckles a-sparkle on his shoes. How I envied him as hedescended the stairs, stroking his ruffles and greeting the company withthe indifferent ease that was then the fashion. I fancied I saw his eyeswander among the ladies, and not marking her he crossed over to where Istood disconsolate before the fireplace.
"Why, Richard, my lad," says he, "you are quite grown since I saw you.And the little girl that was your playmate,--Miss Dolly, I mean,--hasoutstripped me, egad. She has become suddenly une belle demoiselle, likea rose that blooms in a night."
I answered nothing at all. But I had given much to know whether mystolid manner disconcerted him. Unconsciously I sought the bluff faceabove the chimney, depicted in all its ruggedness by the painter of KingCharles's day, and contrasted with the bundle of finery at my side. Dr.Courtenay certainly caught the look. He opened his snuff-box, took apinch, turned on his heel, and sauntered off.
"What did you say, Richard?" asked Mr. Lloyd, coming up to me, laughing,for he had seen the incident.
"I looked merely at the man of Marston Moor, sir, and said nothing."
"Faith, 'twas a better answer than if you had used your tongue, Ithink," answered my friend. But he teased me a deal that night whenDolly danced with the doctor, and my grandfather bade me look to myhonours. My young lady flung her head higher than ever, and made aminuet as well as any dame upon the floor, while I stood very glum atthe thought of the prize slipping from my grasp. Now and then, in themidst of a figure, she would shoot me an arch glance, as much as to saythat her pinions were strong now. But when
it came to the country dancesmy lady comes up to me ever so prettily and asks the favour.
"Tis a monstrous state, indeed, when I have to beg you for a reel!" saysshe.
And so was I made happy.
Richard Carvel — Complete Page 6
