Miss Marjoribanks

by Mrs. Oliphant

  _Chapter VII_

  Miss Marjoribanks had so many things to think of next morning that shefound her cousin, who was rather difficult to get rid of, much in herway: naturally the young man was briefless, and came on circuit for thename of the thing, and was quite disposed to dawdle the first morning,and attach himself to the active footsteps of Lucilla; and for her part,she had things to occupy her so very much more important. For one thing,one of Dr Marjoribanks's little dinner-parties was to take place thatevening, which would be the first under the new regime, and wasnaturally a matter of some anxiety to all parties. "I shall go down andask Mrs Chiley to come with the Colonel," said Lucilla. "I have alwaysmeant to do that. We can't have a full dinner-party, you know, as longas the house is so shabby; but I am sure Mrs Chiley will come to takecare of me."

  "To take care of you!--in your father's house! Do you think they'llbite?" said the Doctor grimly; but as for Lucilla, she was quiteprepared for that.

  "I must have a chaperone, you know," she said. "I don't say it is notquite absurd; but then, at first, I always make it a point to give in tothe prejudices of society. That is how I have always been sosuccessful," said the experienced Lucilla. "I never went in the face ofanybody's prejudices. Afterwards, you know, when one is known----"

  The Doctor laughed, but at the same time he sighed. There was nothing tobe said against Mrs Chiley, who had, on the whole, as women go, a verysuperior training, and knew what a good dinner was; but it was thebeginning of the revolution of which Dr Marjoribanks, vaguely oppressedwith the idea of new paper, new curtains, and all that was involved inthe entrance of Mr Holden the upholsterer into the house, did not seethe end. He acquiesced, of course, since there was nothing else for it:but it must be confessed that the spectre of Mrs Chiley sitting at hisright hand clouded over for the Doctor the pleasant anticipation of theevening. If it had been possible to put her at the head of the tablebeside Lucilla, whom she was to come to take care of, he could haveborne it better--and to be sure it would have been a great deal morereasonable; but then that was absolutely out of the question, and theDoctor gave in with a sigh. Thus it was that he began to realise themore serious result of that semi-abdication into which he had beenbeguiled. The female element, so long peacefully ignored and kept at adistance, had come in again in triumph and taken possession, and theDoctor knew too well by the experience of a long life what a restlessand troublesome element it was. He had begun to feel that it had ceasedto be precisely amusing as he took his place in his brougham. It wasgood sport to see Lucilla make an end of Tom, and put her bridle uponthe stiff neck of Nancy; but when it came to changing the character ofthe Doctor's dinners, his intellect naturally got more obtuse, and hedid not see the joke.

  As for Tom, he had to be disposed of summarily. "Do go away," MissMarjoribanks said, in her straightforward way. "You can come back toluncheon if you like;--that is to say, if you can pick up anybody thatis very amusing, you may bring him here about half-past one, and if anyof my friends have come to call by that time, I will give you lunch; butit must be somebody very amusing, or I will have nothing to say to you,"said Lucilla. And with this dismissal Tom Marjoribanks departed, notmore content than the Doctor; for, to be sure, the last thing in theworld which the poor fellow thought of was to bring somebody who wasamusing, to injure his chances with Lucilla. Tom, like most otherpeople, was utterly incapable of fathoming the grand conception whichinspired Miss Marjoribanks. When she told him that it was the object ofher life to be a comfort to papa, he believed it to a certain extent,but it never occurred to him that filial devotion, though beautiful tocontemplate, would preserve Lucilla's heart from the ordinary dangers ofyouth, or that she was at all in earnest in postponing all matrimonialintentions until she was nine-and-twenty, and had begun to "go off" alittle. So he went away disconsolate enough, wavering between hisinstinct of obedience and his desire of being in Lucilla's company, anda desperate determination never to be the means of injuring himself bypresenting to her anybody who was very amusing. All Miss Marjoribanks's_monde_, as it happened, was a little out of humour that day. She hadgone on so far triumphantly that it had now come to be necessary thatshe should receive a little check in her victorious career.

  When Tom was disposed of, Miss Marjoribanks put on her hat and went downGrange Lane to carry her invitation to Mrs Chiley, who naturally wasvery much pleased to come. "But, my dear, you must tell me what to puton," the old lady said. "I don't think I have had anything new since youwere home last. I have heard so much about Dr Marjoribanks's dinnersthat I feel a little excited, as if I was going to be made a freemasonor something. There is my brown, you know, that I wear at home when wehave anybody--and my black velvet; and then there is my French gray thatI got for Mary Chiley's marriage."

  "Dear Mrs Chiley," said Lucilla, "it doesn't matter in the least whatyou wear; there are only to be gentlemen, you know, and one neverdresses for gentlemen. You must keep that beautiful black velvet foranother time."

  "Well, my dear," said Mrs Chiley, "_I_ am long past that sort ofthing--but the men think, you know, that it is always for them wedress."

  "Yes," said Miss Marjoribanks, "their vanity is something dreadful--butit is one of my principles _never_ to dress unless there are ladies. Awhite frock, high in the neck," said Lucilla, with sweet simplicity--"asfor anything else, it would be bad style."

  Mrs Chiley gave her young visitor a very cordial kiss when she wentaway. "The sense she has!" said the old lady; but at the same time theColonel's wife was so old-fashioned that this contemptuous way oftreating "The Gentlemen" puzzled her unprogressive intelligence. Shethought it was superhuman virtue on Lucilla's part, nearly incredible,and yet established by proofs so incontestable that it would be a shameto doubt it; and she felt ashamed of herself--she who might have been agrandmother, had such been the will of Providence--for lingering fiveminutes undecided between her two best caps. "I dare say Lucilla doesnot spend so much time on such vanity, and she only nineteen," said thepenitent old lady. As for Miss Marjoribanks, she returned up Grange Lanewith a mind at ease, and that consciousness of superior endowmentswhich gives amiability and expansion even to the countenance. She didnot give any money to the beggar who at that period infested Grange Lanewith her six children, for that was contrary to those principles ofpolitical economy which she had studied with such success at MountPleasant; but she stopped and asked her name, and where she lived, andpromised to inquire into her case. "If you are honest and want to work,I will try to find you something to do," said Miss Marjoribanks; which,to be sure, was a threat appalling enough to keep her free from anyfurther molestation on the part of that interesting family. But Lucilla,to do her justice, felt it equally natural that beneficence should issuefrom her in this manner as in that other mode of feeding the hungrywhich she was willing to adopt at half-past one, and had solemnlyengaged herself to fulfil at seven o'clock. She went up after that to MrHolden's, and had a most interesting conversation, and found among hisstores a delicious damask, softly, spiritually green, of which, to hisgreat astonishment, she tried the effect in one of the great mirrorswhich ornamented the shop. "It is just the tint I want," Lucilla said,when she had applied that unusual test; and she left the fashionableupholsterer of Carlingford in a state of some uncertainty whether it wascurtains or dresses that Miss Marjoribanks meant to have made.

  Perhaps this confusion arose from the fact that Lucilla's mind wasoccupied in discussing the question whether she should not go round byGrove Street, and try that duet again with Barbara, and invite her toGrange Lane in the evening to electrify the little company; or whether,in case this latter idea might not be practicable, she should bringBarbara with her to lunch by way of occupying Tom Marjoribanks. Lucillastood at Mr Holden's door for five seconds at least balancing thematter; but finally she gave her curls a little shake, and took a quickstep forward, and without any more deliberation returned towards GrangeLane; for, on the whole, it was better not to burst in full triumph allat once upon her constituency, and exhaust h
er forces at the beginning.If she condescended to sing something herself, it would indeed be agreater honour than her father's dinner-party, in strict justice, wasentitled to; and as for the second question, though Miss Marjoribankswas too happy in the confidence of her own powers to fear any rivals,and though her cousin's devotion bored her, still she felt doubtful howfar it was good policy to produce Barbara at luncheon for the purpose ofoccupying Tom. Other people might see her besides Tom, and her own grand_coup_ might be forestalled for anything she could tell; and then Tomhad some title to consideration on his own merits, though he was theunlucky member of the family. He might even, if he were so far left tohimself (though Miss Marjoribanks smiled at the idea), fall in love withBarbara; or, what was more likely, driven to despair by Lucilla'sindifference, he might _pretend_ to fall in love; and Lucilla reflected,that if anything happened she could never forgive herself. This was thepoint she had arrived at when she shook her tawny curls and set outsuddenly on her return home.

  It was now nearly one o'clock, and it was quite possible that Tom, aswell as herself, might be on the way to Grange Lane; but Lucilla, who,as she said, made a point of never going against the prejudices ofsociety, made up her mind to remain sweetly unconscious of the hour ofluncheon, unless some lady came to keep her company. But then MissMarjoribanks was always lucky, as she said. A quarter of an hour beforeTom applied for admission, Miss Bury came to pay Lucilla a visit. Shehad been visiting in her district all the morning, and was very easilypersuaded to repose herself a little; and then, naturally, she wasanxious about her young friend's spiritual condition, and the effectupon her mind of a year's residence abroad. She was asking whetherLucilla had not seen something soul-degrading and dishonouring toreligion in all the mummeries of Popery; and Miss Marjoribanks, who wasperfectly orthodox, had replied to the question in the most satisfactorymanner; when Tom made his appearance, looking rather sheepish andreluctant, and followed by the "somebody amusing" whom Lucilla hadcommissioned him to bring. He had struggled against his fate, poorfellow! but when it happens to be a man's instinct to do what he istold, he can no more resist it than if it was a criminal impulse. Tomentered with his amusing companion, who had been chosen with care, andwas very uninviting to look at; and by and by Miss Bury, with the mostpuzzled looks, found herself listening to gossip about the theatres andall kinds of profane subjects. "I think they are going to hang thatfellow that killed the tailor," said the amusing man; "that will stiryou up a little in Carlingford, I should suppose. It is as good as aplay for a country town. Of course, there will be a party that will getup a memorial, and prove that a man so kind-hearted never existed out ofparadise; and there will be another party who will prove him to beinsane; and then at the end all the blackguards within a hundred mileswill crowd into Carlingford, and the fellow will be hanged, as hedeserves to be; but I assure you it's a famous amusement for a countrytown."

  "Sir," said Miss Bury, with a tremulous voice, for her feelings hadovercome her, "when you speak of amusement, does it ever occur to youwhat will become of his miserable soul?"

  "I assure you, wretches of that description have no souls," said theyoung barrister, "or else, of course, I would not permit myself to speakso freely. It is a conclusion I have come to not rashly, but after manyopportunities of observing," the young man went on with solemnity; "onthe whole, my opinion is, that this is the great difference between oneportion of mankind and the other: that description of being, you maytake my word for it, has no soul."

  "I never take anybody's word for what is so plainly stated in the HolyScriptures," said Miss Bury; "I never heard any one utter such aterrible idea. I am sure I don't want to defend a--a murderer," criedthe Rector's sister, with agitation; "but I have heard of persons inthat unfortunate position coming to a heavenly frame of mind, and givingevery evidence of being truly converted. The law may take their lives,but it is an awful thing--a truly dreadful thing," said Miss Bury,trembling all over, "to try to take away their soul."

  "Oh, nonsense, Lucilla. By Jove! he does not mean that, you know," saidTom, interposing to relieve his friend.

  "Do you believe in Jove, Mr Thomas Marjoribanks," said Miss Bury,looking him in an alarming manner full in the face.

  The unfortunate Tom grew red and then he grew green under this questionand that awful look. "No, Miss Bury, I can't say I do," he answeredhumbly; and the amusing man was so much less brotherly than Tom that heburst into unsympathetic laughter. As for Lucilla, it was the first realcheck she had sustained in the beginning of her career. There could nothave been a more unfortunate _contretemps_, and there is no telling howdisastrous the effect might have been, had not her courage andcoolness, not to say her orthodoxy, been equal to the occasion. She gaveher cousin a look which was still more terrible than Miss Bury's, andthen she took affairs into her own hands.

  "It is dreadful sometimes to see what straits people are put to, to keepup the conversation," said Lucilla; "Tom in particular, for I think hehas a pleasure in talking nonsense. But you must not suppose I am ofthat opinion. I remember quite well there was a dreadful man once herein jail for something, and Mr Bury made him the most beautifulcharacter! Every creature has a soul. I am sure we say so in the Creedevery day of our lives, and especially in that long creed where so manypeople perish everlastingly. So far from laughing, it is quite dreadfulto think of it," said Lucilla. "It is one of my principles never tolaugh about anything that has to do with religion. I always think it myduty to speak with respect. It has such a bad effect upon some minds.Miss Bury, if you will not take anything more, I think we had better goupstairs."

  To think that Tom, whose luck, as usual, had betrayed him to such anunlooked-for extent, should have been on the point of following to thedrawing-room, was more than Miss Marjoribanks could comprehend; butfortunately his companion had more sense, and took his leave, taking hisconductor with him. Miss Bury went upstairs in silence, sighing heavilyfrom time to time. The good woman was troubled in her spirit at theevident depravity of the young men with whom circumstances hadconstrained her to sit down at table, and she was sadly afraid that suchcompanionship must have a debasing effect upon the mind of that lamb ofthe flock now standing before her. Miss Bury bethought herself of DrMarjoribanks's profane jokes, and the indifference he had shown to manythings in which it was his duty to have interested himself, and shecould not but look with tender pity in her young friend's face.

  "Poor dear," said Miss Bury, "it is dreadful indeed if this is the sortof society you are subjected to. I could recommend to Dr Marjoribanks amost admirable woman, a true Christian, who would take charge of thingsand be your companion, Lucilla. It is not at all nice for you, at yourage, to be obliged to receive young men like these alone."

  "I had you!" said Lucilla, taking both Miss Bury's hands. "I felt it wassuch a blessing. I would not have let Tom stay for luncheon if you hadnot been there; and now I am so glad, because it has shown me the dangerof letting him bring people. I am quite sure it was a special providencethat made you think of coming here to-day."

  "Well, my dear," said Miss Bury, who was naturally mollified by thisstatement of the question, "I am very glad to have been of use to you.If there is anything I desire in this life, it is to be useful to myfellow-creatures, and to do my work while it is called day. I should notthink the time lost, my dear Lucilla, if I could only hope that I hadimpressed upon your mind that an account must be given of every carelessword----"

  "Oh, yes," said Lucilla, "that is _so_ true; and besides, it is quiteagainst my principles. I make it a point never to speak of anythingabout religion except with the greatest respect; and I am quite sure itwas a special providence that I had _you_."

  Miss Bury took her farewell very affectionately, not to say effusively,after this, with her heart melting over the ingenuous young creature whowas so thankful for her protection; but at the same time she left MissMarjoribanks a prey to the horrible sensation of having made a failure.To be sure, there was time to recover herself in the evening, which was,so to
speak, her first formal appearance before the public ofCarlingford. Tom was so ill-advised as to come in when she was havingher cup of tea before dinner to fortify her for her exertions; and thereception he met with may be left to the imagination. But, after all,there was little satisfaction in demolishing Tom; and then Lucilla hadknown from the beginning that the success of her undertaking dependedentirely on herself.