Miss Marjoribanks

by Mrs. Oliphant

  _Chapter XXI_

  It was thus that Mr Cavendish, without particularly meaning it,impressed upon two interesting and amiable young women on the same daythe conviction that he was about to propose, without in either caserealising that expectation. After this last exploit he went home withhis head more confused, and his will more undecided, than ever. For hehad one of those perverse minds which cling to everything that isforbidden; and the idea that he ought not to have gone near BarbaraLake, and that he ought not to see her again, made him more anxious toseek her out and follow her than he had ever been before. If such athing had been permissible in England as that a man might marry one wifefor his liking and another for his interests, the matter might have beencompromised by proposing to them both; and there cannot be a doubt thatLucilla, in such a case, would very soon have triumphed over herhandsome, sullen, passionate rival. But then such a way of conciliatinga man with himself does not exist in the British Islands, andconsequently was not to be thought of. And to be sure, every time hecame to think of it, Mr Cavendish saw more and more clearly what a foolhe would be to marry Barbara, who was evidently so ready to marry him.The same thing could not with any confidence be predicated of MissMarjoribanks, though, if she were to accept him, and her father were toconsent, nothing could be better for his interests. All this he felt,and yet an unconquerable reluctance kept him back. His history was notquite spotless, and there were chapters in it which he thought it wouldkill him to have brought before the public of Carlingford; but still hewas far from being a bad fellow in his way. And down at the bottom ofhis heart, out of everybody's sight, and unacknowledged even by himself,there was one little private nook full of gratitude to Lucilla. Thoughhe scarcely knew what was passing at the moment, he knew, when he cameto think of it, that she had saved him from the effects of his firstpanic at the unexpected appearance of Mr Beverley. Perhaps it was partlythis consciousness that made him so embarrassed in her presence; and hecould not find it in his heart, with this sense of gratitude, to deceiveher, and say he loved her, and ask her to marry him. To be sure, if MrCavendish had been a very acute observer, he might have felt thatLucilla was quite able to take care of herself in such an emergency, andwas at the least a match for him, however seductive he might appear toothers; but then, few people are acute observers in a matter so entirelypersonal to themselves.

  He felt furious with himself as he went home, and thought how foolish hehad been ever to go near Barbara Lake in the present position ofaffairs; and yet he could not help feeling that it was more delightfulto him to see the colour blaze into her cheeks, and the song rise like abird from her full crimson lips, and that flush of excitement andtriumph come from her eyes, than it could have been in any case to havebeen admitted to the same degree of intimacy with Lucilla, who was notin the least intoxicated by his presence. Thus the unfortunate man wastorn asunder, not so much by love and duty, as by inclination andinterest, though the inclination was not strong enough to have allowedof any great sacrifice, nor the interest sufficiently certain to haverepaid the exertion. This only made it the more difficult to decide; andin his circumstances, and with the panic that pursued him, he did notfeel it possible to adopt the only wise policy that remained to him, andwait.

  As Mr Cavendish was thus making his way home, horribly vexed and annoyedwith himself, and avoiding Grange Lane as if the plague was in it, MissMarjoribanks sat in her drawing-room alone, and thought the matter over.Certainly she had not expected him that evening, but still, when sheheard ten o'clock strike, and felt that his coming now absolutelyimpossible, she was a little--not exactly disappointed, but annoyed atherself for having felt a sort of expectation. Lucilla was not a personto hide her sentiments, or even to conceal a fact which was disagreeableto her _amour propre_. She had too thorough and well-founded aconfidence in the natural interest of the world in all belonging to herto do that; so when ten o'clock had done striking, she opened herblotting-book and took one of her pretty sheets of paper, withLucilla on it in delicate rose-tinted letters, the L very large, andthe concluding letters very small, and dashed off her note to MrsChiley. The Miss Blounts' at Mount Pleasant had been one of the veryfirst establishments to forsake the handwriting which was all corners,in favour of the bold running hand of the present female generation; andit was accordingly in a very free and strongly-characterised manuscript,black with much ink, that Miss Marjoribanks wrote:

  "DEAREST MRS CHILEY,--I never expected him to come, and he has not. I dare say he never meant it. I am so glad. It was Providence that sent you at that particular moment to-day.--Always in haste, with fond love, your most truly affectionate

  "LUCILLA."

  And when she had sent Thomas with this note, Miss Marjoribanks felt hermind relieved. Not that it had been much distressed before, but when shehad put it in black and white, and concluded upon it, her satisfactionwas more complete; and no such troublous thoughts as those whichdisturbed the hero of this day's transactions--no such wild tears aspoured from the eyes of Barbara Lake--interfered with the maidenlycomposure of Lucilla's meditations. Notwithstanding all that people sayto the contrary, there is a power in virtue which makes itself felt insuch an emergency. Miss Marjoribanks could turn from Mr Cavendish, whohad thus failed to fulfil the demands of his position, to the sereneidea of the Archdeacon, with that delightful consciousness of havingnothing to reproach herself with, which is balm to a well-regulatedmind. She had done her duty, whatever happened. She had notinjudiciously discouraged nor encouraged the possible Member forCarlingford; and at the same time she was perfectly free to turn herattention to the possible Bishop; and neither in one case nor the othercould anybody say that she had gone a step too far, or committed herselfin any way whatsoever. While these consoling reflections were passingthrough Lucilla's mind, Dr Marjoribanks came upstairs, as had grown tobe his custom lately. Sometimes he took a cup of tea, though it wasagainst his principles, and sometimes he only sat by while his daughterhad hers, and amused himself with her chat before he went to bed. He waslater than usual to-night, and naturally the tea-tray had disappearedsome time before. As for Lucilla, she did not for a moment permit herown preoccupation to interfere with the discharge of her immediate duty,which was unquestionably to be amusing and agreeable, and a comfort toher dear papa.

  "So you had Cavendish here to-day?" said the Doctor. "What brought himhere? What has he been doing? Since you and he are on such good terms, Ihope he gave you an account of where he has been."

  "He has been nursing a sick friend on--the Continent," said Lucilla,with that largeness of geographical expression which is natural to theinsular mind. "Who are Mr Cavendish's friends, papa?" added MissMarjoribanks, with confiding simplicity; and it was beautiful to see howthe daughter looked up into her father's face, with that angelicconfidence in his knowledge on all subjects which is so rarely to be metwith in the present generation. But it was not a question to which theDoctor found it easy to respond.

  "Who are his friends?" said Dr Marjoribanks. "He's one of theCavendishes, they say. We have all heard that. I never knew he had anyfriends; which is, after all, next best to having very good ones," saidthe philosophical old Scotchman; and there, as it appeared, he was quitecontent to let the matter drop.

  "I like to know who people belong to, for my part," said Lucilla. "TheArchdeacon, for example, one knows all about his friends. It's a greatdeal nicer, you know, papa. Not that it matters in the least about theCavendishes----"

  "Well, I should have thought not, after the way you made an end of him,"said the Doctor. "I hope he doesn't mean to begin that nonsense overagain, Lucilla. He is a good fellow enough, and I don't mind asking himto my house; but it is quite a different thing to give him my daughter.He spends too much money, and I can't see what real bottom he has. Itmay all flare up and come to nothing any day. Nobody can have anycertainty with an expensive fellow like that," said Dr Marjoribanks."There is no telling where he draws his income from; it isn't from theland, and it isn't from business; and if
it's money in the Funds----"

  "Dear papa," said Lucilla, "if he had the Bank of England, it would notmake any difference to me. I am not going to swindle you, after you havehad the drawing-room done up, and everything. I said ten years, and Imean to keep to it,--if nothing very particular happens," MissMarjoribanks added prudently. "Most likely I shall begin to go off alittle in ten years. And all I think of just now is to do my duty, andbe a little comfort to you."

  Dr Marjoribanks indulged in a faint "humph!" under his breath, as helighted his candle; for, as has been already said, he was not a man tofeel so keenly as some men might have felt the enthusiasm of filialdevotion which beautified Lucilla's life. But at the same time he hadthat respect for his daughter's genius, which only experience could haveimpressed upon him; and he did not venture, or rather he did not thinkit necessary, to enter into any further explanations. Dr Marjoribanksdid not in the least degree share the nervousness of Mr Cavendish, whowas afraid of deceiving Lucilla. As for her father, he felt a consolingconviction that she was quite able to conduct her own affairs, and woulddo him no discredit in any engagements she might form. And at the sametime he was amused by the idea that he might be swindled in respect tothe drawing-room, if she married at this early moment. He took it forwit, when it was the most solid and sensible reality; but then,fortunately, the points in which he misapprehended her redounded as muchto Lucilla's credit, as those in which he seized her meaning clearest,so that on every side there was something to be gained.

  And when Miss Marjoribanks too retired to her maidenly chamber, asentiment of general content and satisfaction filled her mind. It istrue that for the moment she had experienced a natural womanly vexationto see a proposal nipped in the bud. It annoyed her not so much onpersonal as on general principles; for Lucilla was aware that nothingcould be more pernicious to a man than when thus brought to the verypoint to be thrown back again, and never permitted to produce thatdelicate bloom of his affections. It was like preventing a rose fromputting forth its flowers, a cruelty equally prejudicial to the plantand to the world. But when this pang of wounded philanthropy was over,Miss Marjoribanks felt in her heart that it was Providence that had sentMrs Chiley at that special moment. There was no telling whatembarrassments, what complications she might not have got into, had MrCavendish succeeded in unbosoming himself. No doubt Lucilla had aconfidence that, whatever difficulties there might have been, she wouldhave extricated herself from them with satisfaction and even _eclat_,but still it was better to avoid the necessity. Thus it was with aserene conviction that "whatever is, is best," that Miss Marjoribanksbetook herself to her peaceful slumbers. There are so many people inthe world who hold, or are tempted to hold, an entirely differentopinion, that it is pleasant to linger over the spectacle of a mind soperfectly well regulated. Very different were the sentiments of MrCavendish, who could not sleep for the ghosts that kept tugging at himon every side; and those of Barbara Lake, who felt that for her too theflower of her hero's love had been nipped in the bud. But, to be sure,it is only natural that goodness and self-control should have the bestof it sometimes even in this uncertain world.