Modern Flirtations: A Novel

by Catherine Sinclair

  CHAPTER X.

  Years having thus rolled on, bringing joy to some, and laying sorrowmore or less on all, Marion Dunbar, fresh in the spring-tide ofyouthful bloom, had nearly completed her seventeenth year, and washurrying on still in a whirlpool of education at Mrs. Penfold's,exerting herself more zealously for the credit of her teachers thanshe ever would have done for her own.

  One evening about this time a message reached Marion, desiring thatshe would instantly hasten to Mrs. Penfold's private sitting-room,which was, on all extraordinary occasions, that lady's hall ofaudience, and a solemn summons to which was usually of ominous import.Marion, however, conscious that her own recent diligence had beenquite pre-eminent, and her success most distinguished, heard the wordof command with a flutter of pleasing anticipation, for to her thefuture was always full of hope. Too old now for medals and ribbons,she yet indulged in the gay recollection of her former triumphs, andremembered with a smile, as she hurried up stairs, how often SirArthur had formerly declared, while pretending to frown upon her, that"he hated to see girls flouncing about with medals, and defying theworld!" yet how silly, when she one day entered his drawing-room, withdeepening color and a look of modest consciousness, half concealingand half displaying her honors, he had advanced to meet her, wearinghis own Grand Cross of the Bath, to prove, as he said, that he wasindeed fit company for so meritorious a young lady.

  Humming a favorite air, with a buoyant, joyful step, and radiantsmile, Marion hastened to the door of Mrs. Penfold's apartment, where,after trying to compose her features into a suitable expression ofsober respect, with dimpling cheek, and still almost laughing eyes,she entered, making, as she had been taught, the usual respectfulcourtesy exacted by Mrs. Penfold, such as might have been suitable foran introduction at Court, or for a public performer receiving theplaudits of a numerous audience, and then, with a bright, speakinglook, full of hope and vivacity, she paused, to ascertain the objectof her unexpected summons.

  To Marion's astonishment and dismay, Mrs. Penfold was pacing about theroom, evidently in a state of furious irritation; while in her handshe carried that endless bill, the growth of many years, for board,education, masters, and sundries, which had so often already greetedthe unwilling eyes of her young pupil, whose whole inward spiritrecoiled with shame and apprehension, while she silently measured thelength and breadth of its contents, every item of which she alreadyknew by heart, and could almost have recapitulated without a prompter.

  Had Marion herself been a ruined gamester or a spendthrift, she couldscarcely have felt more guilty and ashamed than now; but afterstanding an entire minute without being observed, and perceiving Mrs.Penfold unable to speak, from the effort it cost to restrain her angerwithin decent bounds, Marion, with the frankness natural to her candiddisposition, came at once to the point, saying, with heightened color,and scarcely articulate voice, while her beautiful deep intelligenteyes were fixed with an earnest gaze on Mrs. Penfold.

  "I fear no satisfactory answer has come this term from my brother?"

  "No! nor there never will be!" thundered Mrs. Penfold, in a voicethat made the gentle Marion absolutely cower before her. "There,Miss Dunbar! look at that bill!" added she, flinging it furiouslyinto the lap of Marion, who had sunk upon a seat. "How much will ashilling in the pound be for that? Four hundred guineas absolutelylost--wasted--squandered upon you!"

  Unable to speak from consternation, though such scenes were alreadybut too familiar to her memory, Marion fixed her eyes on the unwelcomebill, apparently examining its contents, while her thoughts were inthe mean time painfully occupied in devising what would be right forher to say or do in this unexpected crisis. A long pause ensued,during which Mrs. Penfold seemed resolute not to speak; thereforeMarion, with a strenuous effort, endeavored to new-string her nerves,and say something, while the large heavy tears forced themselves intoher eyes.

  "Mrs. Penfold," replied she earnestly, "you know how ready I would beto send my brother another letter of remonstrance, if that could be ofany avail, but now he never so much as answers me. I seem indeed to bequite forgotten by both Patrick and Agnes!"

  Marion paused to recover her voice, and to choke back her tears, afterwhich she continued in a firmer tone, while Mrs. Penfold listened,with a dry, harsh, unmoved expression of countenance.

  "You are justly dissatisfied about my brother's payment, but if therebe the least cause to doubt your being ultimately remunerated, send meimmediately home. I dare not go of myself, but you have power todismiss me, and let it be done. The sorrow and mortification must allbe mine, but whatever falls on myself alone, I shall always be able tobear."

  "Miss Dunbar! you have anticipated exactly what I am obliged to do,and what it would have been well for me if I had done sooner!" repliedMrs. Penfold, angrily flouncing into a chair, and pirouetting italmost round, so as to look Marion full in the face. "I am sorry foryou certainly, because, though your music is not yet exactly such asto do me much credit, and your Italian is sometimes far fromgrammatical, yet on the whole there cannot be a better-disposed girl,nor one who has testified a more constant desire to please me."

  Marion's heart was melted by even this very slight expression ofregard, and nothing could exceed the troubled beauty of her eyes, whenshe raised them gratefully to Mrs. Penfold, but conscious that herpresence was not exactly the place for a scene, as that lady had longbeen considered incapable of a tear or a smile, she averted her face,and struggled for composure.

  "I have learned for the first time to-day." resumed Mrs. Penfold, hervoice becoming more stern as she proceeded, "that before your father'sdeath, Sir Patrick twice, in the most profligate manner, paid off hiscreditors with a shilling in the pound! In consequence of great lossesnow at the Doncaster races, and having paid what he calls his debts ofhonor to a ruinous amount, Sir Patrick has yesterday fled to thesanctuary at Holyrood House for refuge, and the creditors have alreadyseized everything. No wonder indeed! it was full time! He is allpromise and no performance,--for ever feeding us with empty spoons!"

  Mrs. Penfold angrily changed her position, and with another indignantglance at Marion, continued,

  "Even Sir Patrick's large rent-roll would scarcely suffice in alife-time to pay the half of us off. Good worthy Sir Arthur too, hisown uncle, he has cheated, and the property being entailed, we haveonly Sir Patrick's life to depend upon for what he owes us! This is avery heavy blow to me, and extremely hard to bear!"

  While thus bemoaning herself. Mrs. Penfold forgot, like most selfishpeople, that any one had to suffer besides, though the parted lips,the tearful eyes, and the pallid cheek of Marion testified in alanguage not to be mistaken, the depth and intensity of her grief,while with astonishment and dismay, she heard this short summary ofSir Patrick's history and circumstances.

  Long after Mrs. Penfold had ceased to speak, Marion gazed in her face,as if expecting more, while her every nerve continued quivering withagitation, till at length she closed her eyes in speechless agony,bewildered by the sudden transition from joyful anticipation to blankdespair. Formerly she had heard of difficulties and bankruptcies, asshe had heard of the plague or the bow-string at Constantinople--thingsdreadful to those who might be affected by them, but quite foreignto herself, and now, like a clap of thunder, all had suddenly burstover the heads of those who were nearest and dearest to her, withapparently destructive effect. She yet felt as if the whole were somehideous dream from which it might be possible to awaken,--the voice ofMrs. Penfold rang painfully on her ears,--every surrounding objectfaded from her vision,--her thoughts became confused,--a vague senseof burning misery was at her heart,--and one only wish remaineddistinctly prominent on her mind--the wish to be alone.

  "Indeed, Miss Dunbar," continued Mrs. Penfold, in a monotonouscomplaining voice, "no wonder you are shocked that I who have laboredso hard to realize a small independence, should be swindled out of itin this way by your brother. Lady Towercliffe tells me that among hisintimate friends he is known by the nick-name of "Sixpenny Dunbar!" onacc
ount of his having so often already played a similar game, but oncecatch him beyond the bounds of Holyrood now, and he'll never be atliberty to try such manoeuvres again. We are to offer a reward ofL500 for his apprehension!"

  "My poor uncle and Agnes!" exclaimed Marion, in a voice of anguish,while hot tears fell like rain over her cheek, and a confusedapprehension of ruin, bankruptcy, and disgrace hovered darkly throughher mind, though she scarcely yet knew what to think or to fear. "Imust go home, if I yet have a home! Wherever they are, let me findthem! I must see my uncle.--Patrick cannot be all you say! oh no! Itis some dreadful mistake! Whatever happens, I trust and hope, Mrs.Penfold, you will be repaid. It shall be my first earthly wish--myduty sooner or later, to see it done! Now let me go instantly home!"

  Mrs. Penfold most heartily seconded her pupil's desire to depart, whileone of the heaviest pangs which Marion had to endure on this occasion,sprang from the stern angry coldness with which her _ci-devant_preceptress appeared about to bid her a last farewell.

  A tumult of gossiping wonder and curiosity arose among the pupils,when it became whispered that Marion was to "leave" on an hour'snotice. Many questions were asked, much astonishment was expressed,and even a great deal of real sympathy excited, but Marion shrank fromthe clamorous exclamations of her young companions, who could not somuch as guess the measure and depth of her misfortunes. Often had sheshared their sorrows, and willingly would she have accepted anyconsolation they could offer, but the worst of her trials could not bespoken to mortal ears, and in lamenting for her brother's disgrace,she could only bear her wound, like a stricken deer, into solitude andsilence.

  There are insects that live a life-time in an hour, and it seemed toMarion as if she had really done so, since the time when sparklingwith gladness, she flew to Mrs. Penfold's presence. Now, heavy withsorrow and anxiety, she slowly retraced her steps, and on reaching herroom, sank upon her bed in a paroxysm of tears, delivering herself upto many painful thoughts, or rather to her feelings, for she could notthink amidst the tumult of an agitated mind, when suffering thus underthe most painful of all transitions, from hope to despair.

  It was during the unoccupied half-hour after dinner, when Mrs. Penfoldallowed her pupils a gasp of rest from their labors during the day,that they gathered in groups at every window, to criticise ahackney-coach and very tired broken-down looking horses in waiting,while the pupils all watched for Marion's departure, anxious to catcha last glimpse of their favorite companion. She had been shut upalone, ever since her interview with Mrs. Penfold, and tried to occupyherself in packing up her few possessions, while endeavoring tocompose her mind, both of which tasks occupied more time than shewished or expected. But all now over, and trying to assume an aspectof serenity, with pale cheeks and swollen eyes, she entered theschool-room, carrying in her hand a large and very heavy-lookingcasket.

  The young community crowded round to say a thousand affectionatefarewells, when, for a moment, Marion looked at them all with her ownbeautiful smile, but unable to control her emotion, she turned awayher head, and burst into an agony of tears.

  "Miss Dunbar, my dear! the sooner this is all over the better!" saidMrs. Penfold, hastily advancing, with a look of irritable vexation."No wonder you are sorrow to leave us; but what can't be cured must beendured. Remember to be diligent in practising your music, as thesuccess of my establishment depends on the conduct of all my youngladies. The only recompense I am ever likely to receive for my care,will proceed from your attention not to do me any discredit. Now,farewell, my dear, and try bear up the best way you can!"

  "Mrs. Penfold!" faltered Marion, while a flash of bright intelligencelighted up her eyes; "allow me, for a single moment, to see youalone!"

  "No! no! my dear! I hate scenes; therefore let us now take leave.I wish you well!" added Mrs. Penfold, in a tone that soundedmarvellously sincere. "I really do! Whatever has happened is yourmisfortune, not your fault!"

  "One single word, if you please," whispered Marion, coloring thedeepest carnation, and leading the way to an inner room, while Mrs.Penfold followed, with an air of royal condescension. "The fault isindeed, as you kindly remark, not my own; but for my sake, Mrs.Penfold, spare my brother's name in all you say. It gives me pleasureto think that I can do something towards settling our account myself,and I would think no sacrifice worth a thought, that enabled me to doso. My mother's trinkets were divided between Agnes and me; besideswhich my dear kind uncle has been lavish in his gifts. This goldrepeater cost a great sum, and that locket is set in diamonds."

  "Well, my dear!" interrupted Mrs. Penfold, relaxing into a look ofgraciousness, "such honorable sentiments show that you have not beenunder my care in vain; and though these pretty trifles are notequivalent to what you owe, yet half a loaf is better than no bread!"

  "All that I ever possessed, the gifts or legacies of friends andrelations, I leave in pledge with you, Mrs. Penfold, as an assurance,that if brighter days ever come, I would redeem them at twenty timestheir value. Keep these till then. Whatever ornaments I might everwear, would be a reproach till you are paid. Some debts never can besufficiently discharged, and among these is what I owe to your careduring many past years."

  The bright eyes of Marion were dimmed with tears of sincerity andemotion when she concluded; and, placing the casket in Mrs. Penfold'sastonished hands, she hastened out of the room. Giving a last, longlook at those inanimate objects to which she had been accustomed, andfeeling that even to these she could not without regret bid a finaladieu, Marion threw herself into the carriage, and drove off, sooverpowered with anguish and anxiety respecting her brother, that shescarcely noticed the phalanx of white pocket handkerchiefs, waved toher as a last farewell from those beloved companions, among whom solarge a share of her young affections had hitherto been lavished; andthus she took a final farewell of Mrs. Penfold's finishing seminaryfor young ladies, where she was never destined to be finished!