The Chaplain of the Fleet

by Walter Besant

  CHAPTER VII.

  HOW KITTY BROKE HER PROMISE.

  No one must think that I was sorry, or even embarrassed, when I heardthat Harry Temple had joined the company at Epsom; and though the nameof coquette was given me by him, and that of jilt, with such otherabusive terms as the English tongue provides, by Will Levett, lateron, I beg that every one will believe me when I declare that I had noknowledge at all of being betrothed, or under any kind of promise, toeither of these two young men. Yet, as will have been perceived by anywho have read the second chapter of this narrative, both of them hadjust grounds for believing me to be their promised wife. In fact, Iwas at the time so silly and ignorant that I did not understand whatthey meant; nor had I, being so much tossed about, and seeing so manychanges, ever thought upon their words at all, since. And whereas therewas no day in which the thought of my dear and fond Nancy did not comeinto my mind, there never was a day at all in which my memory dweltupon either Will or Harry, save as companions of Nancy. And althoughgrievous things followed upon this neglect of mine, I cannot possiblycharge myself with any blame in the matter. As for Will, indeed, hisconduct was such as to relieve me of any necessity for repentance;while Harry, even if he did play the fool for a while, speedilyrecovered his senses, and found consolation in the arms of another.Lastly, men ought not to go frantic for any woman: they should reflectthat there are good wives in plenty to be had for the asking; womenvirtuously reared, who account it an honour (as they should) to receivethe offer of an honest man's faithful service; that no woman is so goodas to have no equal among her contemporaries: while as for beauty, thatis mostly matter of opinion. I am sure I cannot understand why theymade me Queen of the Wells, when Nancy Levett was passed over; and Ihave since seen many a plain girl honoured as a beauty, while the mostlovely faces were neglected.

  The first, then, of my two lovers--or promised husbands--who arrived atEpsom was Harry Temple.

  We were walking on the New Parade in the afternoon, making a granddisplay; I in my new purple velvet with purple ribbons, a purple mantleand purple trimmings to my hat, very grand indeed. Mr. Walsinghamwas talking like a lover in a novel--I mean of the old-fashioned andromantic school of novel, now gone out. The art of saying fine thingsnow too much neglected by the young, was then studied by old and young.

  "Ladies," he was saying, "should never be seen save in the splendourof full dress: they should not eat in public, unless it be chocolatesand Turkish sweets: nor drink, unless it be a dish of tea: they shouldnot laugh, lest they derange the position of the patch or the niceadjustment of the coiffure: they may smile, however, upon their lovers;all their movements should be trim and evenly balanced, according torules of grace: in fact, just as a woman was the last and most finishedwork in Nature, so a lady dressed, taught, and cultivated, should bethe last and most finished work in Art. The power of beauty--MissPleydell will approve this--should be assisted by the insinuation ofpolite address: rank should be enhanced by the assumption of a becomingdignity: dishabille should hide at home: nor should she show herselfabroad until she has heightened and set off her charms, by silk andsatin, ribbons and lace, paint, powder, and patches."

  "I suppose, sir," said Nancy, pointing to an absurd creature whosefollies were the diversion of the whole company, "the dress of the ladyover there in the short sack would please you. Her body a state-bedrunning upon castors, and her head-dress made up of trimmings takenfrom the tester. She is, sir, I take it, a finished work of Art."

  Then she screamed: "O Kitty! here is Harry Temple." And then sheblushed, so that Mr. Walsingham looked at both of us with a meaningsmile. He came sauntering along the walk, looking about him carelessly,for as yet he knew none of the company. His manner was improved sincelast I saw him, a year and more ago: that was doubtless due to a visitto the Continent. He was a handsome fellow certainly, though not sotall or so handsome as Lord Chudleigh: his features were smaller andhis air less distinguished; but still a pretty fellow. I thought ofNancy's secret and laughed to myself, as yet never suspecting what hewould say. The great difference at first sight between Harry Temple andLord Chudleigh was that the former looked as if he was ready to takethe place which the world would assign to him, while the latter wouldstep to the front and stand there as if in his proper place. It is agrand thing to be a leader of men.

  Suddenly he saw us, and stood still with such a look of bewildermentand astonishment as I never saw.

  "Nancy!"--he had his eyes upon me all the time--"I knew you were here,but--but----"

  Here Nancy burst out laughing.

  "Harry does not remember you, Kitty. Oh the inconstancy of men!"

  "Kitty?" It was his turn to look confused now. "Is it possible? KittyPleydell? Yet, surely----"

  "I am sorry that Mr. Temple so easily forgets his old friends," I said.

  "No, no. Forget? not at all." He was so disconcerted that he spoke insingle words. "But such a change!"

  "A year ago," I said, "I was in russet and brown holland, with a strawhat. But this watering-place is not my native village, and I wear brownholland frocks no longer."

  "Save in a pastoral," said Mr. Walsingham. "A shepherdess should alwayswear brown holland, with ribbons and patches, powder and paint; and acrook beautifully wreathed with green ribbons."

  "Gentlemen," I said to my followers, "this is my old friend, Mr.Harry Temple, of Wootton Hampstead, Kent, whom you will, I doubt not,welcome among you. But what punishment shall be inflicted upon him forforgetting a lady's face?"

  This gave rise to a dispute on an abstract point of gallantry. Oneheld that under no circumstances, and during no time of absence,however prolonged, should a gentleman forget the face of his mistress;another, that if the lady changed, say from a child to a woman, theforgetfulness of her face must not be charged as a crime. We argued thepoint with great solemnity. Nancy gave it as her opinion that the restof a woman's face might be forgotten, but not the eyes, because theynever change. Mr. Walsingham combated this opinion. He said that theeyes of ladies change when they marry.

  "What change?" I asked.

  "The eyes of a woman who is fancy free," said he gravely, "are likestars: when she marries, they are planets."

  "Nay," said Nancy; "a woman does not wait to be married before her eyesundergo that change. As soon as she falls in love they become planets.For whereas, before that time, they go twinkle, twinkle, upon everypretty fellow who has the good taste to fall in love with her, as minedo when I look upon Lord Eardesley"--the young fellow blushed--"soafter she is in love, they burn with a steady light upon the face ofthe man she loves, as mine do when I turn them upon Mr. Walsingham."

  She gazed with so exaggerated an ardour into the old beau's wrinkledand crows'-footed face, that the rest of us laughed. He, for his part,made a profound salute, and declared that the happiness of his life wasnow achieved, and that he had nothing left to live for.

  In the evening, a private ball was given in the Assembly Rooms by someof the gentlemen, Lord Chudleigh among the number, to a circle of themost distinguished ladies at the Wells. In right of my position asQueen, I opened the ball (of course with his lordship). Afterwards,I danced with Harry. When the country dances began, I danced againwith Harry, who kept looking in my eyes and squeezing my hand in aridiculous fashion. At first I set it down to rejoicing and fraternalaffection. But he quickly undeceived me when the dance was over, forwhile we stood aside to let others have their turn, he began about thepromise which we know of.

  "Little did I think, sweet Kitty," he said, with half-shut eyes, "thatwhen I made that promise to bring you back into Kent, you would growinto so wonderful a beauty."

  "Well, Harry," I replied, "it was kindly meant of you, and I thank youfor your promise--which I now return you."

  "You return me my promise?" he asked, as if surprised, whereas he oughtmost certainly to have considered what had been my country ignoranceand my maidenly innocence when he gave me his promise.

  "Certainly," I said; "seeing that I am now under the pro
tection ofMrs. Esther Pimpernel, and have no longer any need for your services."

  "My services?" as if still more surprised. I am convinced that he wasonly acting astonishment, because he must have known the truth had hereflected at all. "Why, Kitty, I do not understand. You are not surelygoing to throw me over?"

  Then I understood at last.

  "Harry," I said, "there has been, I fear, some mistake."

  "No," he replied; "no mistake--no mistake at all. How could there be amistake? You promised that you would return with me, never to go awayagain."

  "Why, so I did. But, Harry, I never thought----"

  "You _must_ have known what I meant, Kitty! Do not pretend that youdid not. Oh! you may open your eyes as wide as you like, but I shallbelieve it, nevertheless."

  "You have made a great mistake," I said; "that is very certain. Now letus have no more talk of such things, Harry."

  Lord Chudleigh came at that moment to lead me in to supper. I thoughtvery little of what had passed, being only a little vexed that Harryhad made so great a blunder.

  The supper was pleasant too, with plenty of wax candles, cold chickens,capons, wheat-ears, ice-creams, and champagne, which is certainly themost delicious wine ever made.

  After supper, my lord asked me if there was any friend of mine whom Iwould especially like to be invited to his party at Durdans?

  I named Harry Temple, whom my lord immediately sought out, and invitedin my name. Harry bowed sulkily, but accepted.

  "Is there any person," Lord Chudleigh asked next, "whom you would likenot to be asked?"

  "No," I said; "I have no enemies."

  "As if the Queen of the Wells could avoid having enemies?" he laughed."But there are none who can do you harm, even by the venom of spitefultongues."

  He was silent for a minute or two, and then he went on, withhesitation--

  "Pardon me, Miss Pleydell: I have no right to speak of these things toyou; my interest is greater than my politeness, and I venture to askyou a question."

  "Pray speak, my lord."

  "A spiteful tongue has whispered it abroad that you have to-day givenyour plighted lover a cold reception."

  "Who is my plighted lover?"

  "Mr. Harry Temple. Tell me, Miss Pleydell, if there is any promisebetween you and this gentleman?"

  He looked at me in such a way as made me both rejoice and tremble.

  "No, my lord," I said, blushing against my will, and to my greatconfusion; "I am not promised to Mr. Temple. Will your lordship take meto the dancing-room?"

  It was a bright moonlight night when we came away. We walked home,escorted by some of the gentlemen. Lord Chudleigh, as he stooped totake my hand, raised it rapidly to his lips and pressed my fingers. Theaction was not seen, I think, by the others.

  That night I tried to put the case plainly to myself.

  I said: "Kitty, my dear, the man you want above all other men to fallin love with you has done it; at least, it seems so. He seeks youperpetually; he talks to you; he singles you out from the rest; he isjealous; his eyes follow you about; he sends fruit and flowers to you;he gives an entertainment, and calls you the Queen of the Feast; hepresses your hand and kisses your fingers. What more, Kitty, would youhave?"

  On the other hand, I thought: "If he falls in love with you, beingalready married, as he believes, to another woman, he commits a sinagainst his marriage vows. Yet what sin can there be in breaking vowspronounced in such a state as he was in, and in such a way? Why, theyseem to me no vows at all, in spite of the validity of the Doctor'sorders and the so-called blessing of the Church. Yet he cannot partfrom his wife by simply wishing; and, knowing that, he does actuallycommit the sin of deceit in loving another woman.

  "Kitty, what would you have? For, if he doth not love you, then are youmiserable above all women; and if he does, then are you grieved, forhis own sake, for it is a sin--and ashamed for your own, because yourconfession will be a bitter thing to say. Yet must it be made, soon orlate. Oh! with what face will you say to him: 'My lord, I am that wifeof the Fleet wedding'? Or, 'My lord, you need not woo me, for I was wonbefore I was wooed'? Or perhaps, worst thing of all, 'My lord, the girlwho caught your fickle fancy for a moment at Epsom, whom you passedover, after a day or two, for another, who was not pretty enough to fixyour affections, is your lawful wife'?

  "Kitty, I fear that the case is hopeless indeed. For, should he reallylove you, what forelook or expectancy is there but that the love willturn to hatred when he finds that he has been deceived?"

  Then I could not but remember how a great lord, with a long rent-roll,of illustrious descent, might think it pleasant for a day or twoto dance attendance upon a pretty girl, by way of sport, meaningnothing further, but that he could not think seriously of so humblea girl as myself in marriage. It would matter little to him that shewas descended from a long line of gentlemen, although but a vicarsdaughter; the Pleydells were only simply country gentlefolk. I was asimple country clergyman's daughter, whose proper place would be inhis mother's still-room; a daughter of one of those men whose veryvocation, for the most part, awakens a smile of pity or contempt,according as they are the sycophants of the squire whose living theyenjoy, or the drudges of their master the rector whose work they do. Itwas not in reason to think that Lord Chudleigh----Would to Heaven hehad not come to Epsom Wells at all! Then, when the Doctor chose the dayfor revealing the truth, I might have borne the hatred and scorn whichnow, I thought, would kill me.

  Oh, if one could fix him! By what arts do girls draw to themselves thelove of men, and then keep that love for ever, so that they never seekto wander elsewhere, and the world is for them like the Garden of Eden,with but one man and one woman in it? I would have all his heart, andthat so firmly and irrevocably given to me, that forgiveness shouldfollow confession, and the heart remain still in my keeping when heknew all my wickedness and shame.

  Then a sudden thought struck me.

  Long ago, when I was a child, I had learned, or taught myself, athing which I could fain believe was not altogether superstitious.One day my father, who would still be talking of ancient things, andcared for little of more modern date than the Gospels, told me of apractice among the ancients by which they thought to look into thefuture. It was an evil practice, he said, because if these oracles werefavourable, they advanced with blind confidence; and, if unfavourable,with a heart already prepared for certain defeat and death. Theirmethod was nothing in the world but the opening of a Virgil anywhere,and accepting the first line which offered itself as a prophecy of theevent of their undertaking. I was but a little thing when he told methis, but I pondered it in my mind, and I reasoned in this way (nothingdoubting that the ancients did really in this manner read the future)--

  "If these pagans could tell the event by consulting the words ofVirgil, a heathen like unto themselves, how much more readily ought weto learn what is going to happen by consulting the actual Word of God?"

  Thereupon, without telling any one, I used to consult this oracle,probably by myself, in every little childish thing which interested me.

  It was a thing presumptuous, though in my childhood I did not know thatit was a sin. Yet I did it on this very night--a grown-up woman--tryingto get a help to soothe my mind.

  The moonlight was so bright that I could read at the open windowwithout a candle. I had long since extinguished mine.

  I opened the Bible at random, kept my finger on a verse, and took thebook to the casement.

  There I read--

  "Wait on the Lord: be of good courage; and He shall strengthen thyheart. Wait, I say, on the Lord."

  Now these words I thankfully accepted as a solemn message from Heaven,an answer to my prayer.

  So I laid me down, and presently fell fast asleep.