CHAPTER XV.
On Monday I went to see Dr. Fergus about my leg, and did not get a verygood report of it.
We returned from Clarkham on one of the hottest days I ever remember,and found Mrs. Fielden waiting for us in the hall.
"Every one seems to have come over to hear about your London visit,"said Mrs. Fielden lightly, "for I found Mr. Ellicomb and Maud Jamiesonhere when I came in."
She began pouring out tea for us both as she spoke, and she signalledsomething to Palestrina, who replied as she stooped down to cut somecake, "Another operation--yes, four or five weeks in bed at least."
"I sent Maud and Mr. Ellicomb home together," said Mrs. Fielden,smiling. "He, poor man, is in a great state of mental perturbation,for it seems that he has heard that in South Africa pigs are fed uponarum lilies, and that so delicate is the flesh of the pork thusproduced that some flower-growers in the Channel Isles are cultivatingarum lilies for the purpose of feeding pigs, and to produce the samedelicious pork. He was so agitated that he got up from his chair andwalked up and down the room, repeating over and over again, 'Arum-fedpork! Monstrous, monstrous!' I really did not know how to comforthim, so I sent him home with Maud Jamieson, which seemed to please himvery much."
"And you," I said, "following the Jamieson train of thought, have beensaying to yourself ever since, 'Is there anything in it?'"
"She certainly had a soothing effect upon him," said Mrs. Fielden.
"Then," said I, "the second stage has been reached. When all theJamiesons are married, I think I shall feel that romance is over."
"I know they have been to tea at the farm," said Mrs. Fielden, "becauseMr. Ellicomb talked so much about his blue china, and Maud said awoman's hand was needed in the house."
"I wonder," I said, "what will be the special objection that Maud willraise when she becomes engaged to Mr. Ellicomb? He is not calledAlbert; he does not wear a white watered-silk waistcoat; his hair iscertainly his own; and his mother is dead, so it cannot be said that hetoo closely resembles her."
One of the objections raised by Maud to a candidate for her hand, wasthat he was far too like his mother--a really delightful woman--butMaud declared, with tears, that she could never really look up to a manwho was so like his mamma.
"At present," said Mrs. Fielden, "the blue china seems to be all in hisfavour; but one cannot feel sure that it will not be an obstacle lateron, or Mr. Ellicomb's High Church principles, perhaps, may prove adeterrent to her ideas of perfect happiness."
"I wish," said Palestrina, "that Margaret's affairs were more settled.This summer has been a trying one for her."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," said Mrs. Fielden, "that that was one ofMaud's reasons for coming over to see you. She told me that Mr.Swinnerton is coming to pay them a visit. He has written, it seems, tomake the offer himself, and Maud says she thinks it will be all rightnow."
Mrs. Fielden was in one of her most light-hearted moods. After theheat of the day there came a delightful coolness, and she stayedchatting till nearly dinner-time, and then decided that she wouldremain to dinner if we should ask her to do so.
"I have three dear old sisters-in-law staying with me," said Mrs.Fielden, "and they will doubtless drag all the ponds for my body."
"Won't they be anxious about you?" asked Palestrina.
"Perhaps," said Mrs. Fielden, raising her pretty eyebrows in the oldaffected way; "but then they will appreciate me so much more when Icome back to them from the grave."
We sat out on the lawn after dinner till it was quite dark, and onlyMrs. Fielden's white dress was visible in the gloom. For some reasonbest known to herself she put off her wilful mood out there in thegloom of the garden. She was not regal, not even amusing, onlycharming and full of a lovely kindness. Half the conversation betweenher and Palestrina began with the words, "Do you remember?" as theyrecalled old jokes and stories. Then her ever-present gaiety broke outagain, and she laughed and said: "I believe I am becoming reminiscent.Why doesn't some one sit upon me, or tell me they will order thecarriage for me if I really must go? But it is heavenly here in thecool--and in heaven, you know, we shall probably all be reminiscent."
Ten o'clock struck from the tower of the church down below in thevillage, and Mrs. Fielden said that now she really must go, or shewould find the sisters-in-law saying a Requiem Mass for her; andPalestrina went indoors to order the carriage.
"To-morrow," I said, "I am going to have my last dissipation. I amgoing to the Traceys' tea-party."
"I am certainly going too," said Mrs. Fielden. "I believe I am gettingas gay as the Miss Traceys themselves, though I can't help remarkingthat no one who goes to these tea-parties ever seems to be amused whenthey get there."
"Judging from my own standard of what I find amusing," I said, "Ishould be inclined to say that Stowel never enjoys itselfextravagantly. Our neighbours never refuse invitations to even thesmallest party; but the pleasure that they get from them, if it existsat all, is carefully concealed."
"I have felt that myself," said Mrs. Fielden. "I really don't begin toenjoy them till I get home."
"I believe you always enjoy yourself," I said resentfully.
After a little time Mrs. Fielden said wistfully, "You don't think thereis only a certain amount of happiness in the world, do you, Hugo? Andthat if one person gets a great deal, it means that another will getless?"
She asks one questions in this way sometimes, as though one were asuperior being who could dispel her perplexities for her.
"Probably," I said, "you know ten thousand times more about the subjectthan I do. You are happy, and I philosophize about it. Tell me whichof us is most fitted to give a lecture on the subject?"
I thought Mrs. Fielden was going to say something after that, for shestretched out her hand in a certain impulsive way she has got, and gavemine just one moment's friendly pressure in the dark. And thenPalestrina came back to say the carriage was at the door, and Mrs.Fielden said "Good-night."
I remember two things about the Miss Traceys' party--first, that Mrs.Fielden was not there, for one of the old sisters-in-law was illsuddenly, and she could not leave her; and the other thing I rememberabout it is that it was the last occasion on which I ever saw MargaretJamieson look pretty.
There have been some strange innovations in tea-parties ever since Mrs.Taylor gave hers to meet The Uncle, and sent out visiting-cards insteadof notes. Instead of having tea in the dining-room, all sitting roundthe table, as used to be the custom, it seems that dressing-tables areoften brought down from upstairs and extended across the window. Theseare covered with white tablecloths, and behind them two maids stand andwait. The dressing-tables are called the "buffet," and both tea andcoffee are provided, suggesting the elegance and savour of Londonrefreshments. This is distinctly pleasing, though it is felt that asingle cup of tea drunk while standing has not got the comfort offormer old-fashioned days. Miss Belinda lives on at the little cottagewith the green gate; and through the kindness of the General a lady hasbeen found to wait upon her, and take her out to these small gaietieswhich she loves, and she sits shaking her poor, weak head, andmuttering, "Glory, glory, glory!" It does not occur to her to stay athome during her period of mourning, and it is acknowledged on all sidesthat she does not miss Lydia much. The General has not come to staywith the Taylors again. In a long letter which he wrote to me after heleft he said he would probably never come back to the place, and at thesame time he thanked me in courteous, old-fashioned phraseology forbeing with him through what he called "one of the dark days that comesometimes." He would never see Miss Belinda, in spite of the many kindthings he did for her; and I always feel that he resented the poorcreature's long illness and weak, silly ways--which was only natural,no doubt.
The Vicar was present at his sisters' tea-party, "although," as MissRuby explained to me, "it is not as though this were an eveningentertainment. My sister and I often give these little routs withouthim. Still, a gentleman is always something of an orn
ament at a party."
There were seven Jamiesons present, and two of them, Margaret and Maud,offered, in their usual friendly way, to walk home with Palestrina andme. Maud, one feels sure, engaged Palestrina in confidences directly;and Margaret whispered in a shy way to me, "Do you mind coming round bythe post-office? I am expecting a letter." So we walked round by theHigh Street, and Margaret told me that Tudor had had to give up hisvisit to them, but that he was writing.
So we went into the post-office, and Margaret had her letter handed toher across the counter by the post-mistress, upon whom she bestowed aradiant smile. When we got outside she opened it and read it without aword; and then, quite suddenly, she gave a cry as though some one hadstruck her, and she handed the letter to me, and said, "Oh, Hugo, readit!" And I read:--
"I am sure you will be surprised when I tell you that I am going to bemarried; it will explain to you why it was that I was unable to fulfilmy promise to come to see you. But sudden though my engagement to MissLloyd has been--very sudden, much more sudden indeed than I ever feltthat such a serious step as marriage would be undertaken by me--Icannot but feel that it is for my happiness. Some day I hope you willmake Miss Lloyd's acquaintance; she is staying with my mother just now,and she is already a great favourite. I cannot but feel that havingseen so much of you and of your family last summer, and during yourstay in London, that I may have raised expectations which I find myselfunable to fulfil; but I am quite sure that a man's first duty is tohimself in these matters, and that he should not undertake matrimonyuntil he is thoroughly convinced it is for his happiness. Had I notmet Miss Lloyd, I may say that my intentions to you were of the mostserious nature, and I know that I have the power in me to make any girlhappy. We shall live with my mother for the first year, and then Ihope to settle somewhere near London, where it will be nice for me toget into the fresh air after my work in the City.
"Yours very truly, "TUDOR SWINNERTON.
"_P.S._--Miss Lloyd and I are to be married next month in St. Luke'sChurch, quite near here."
I handed the letter back to Margaret, and we never spoke the whole wayhome. And that was the last day I ever saw Margaret Jamieson lookpretty.
A Lame Dog's Diary Page 15
