CHAPTER XXXIX.
EVERARD YIELDS THE POINT.
"Down on your knees, And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love."
_As You Like It._
"He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural."
_Twelfth Night._
It is given to few favored mortals to know such hours or moments ofintense happiness, that their cup of bliss seems well-nigh overflowing.But such a moment had come to Moritz Ingram and Mollie.
When Gwendoline came to summon them to luncheon, two such radiant facesbeamed on her that she smiled back at them with joyous sympathy.
"Come here and congratulate me, Gwen," exclaimed her brother. "Molliehas forgiven me for my little ruse; she knows an idealist must haveplenty of scope, and that everything is fair in love or war." And asMollie did not contradict this audacious statement, Gwendoline let itpass without rebuke.
"Moritz, she is just perfect," she whispered, as Mollie left them andwent down the gallery, in search of Waveney. "Oh, I know," as theywatched the pretty, girlish figure with its awkward, lurching gait. "Itis a pity the dear child is so lame; but she is like a little strayangel for loveliness. There, she has found her sister; we must leavethem for a few minutes together."
Mollie discovered Waveney standing in one of the window recesses,looking down on the terrace. At the sound of footsteps, she turnedround.
"Well, Mollie," she said, trying to smile, but her lip quivered. "So thePrince has come, after all, and my sweetheart is to be a great lady."
"Are you glad, Wave?" asked Mollie, with a loving hug, "really and trulyglad?"
Then Waveney's dark eyes filled suddenly with tears.
"Glad that my Mollie should have this beautiful home, and all thesefine things? My darling, what a question! Don't you know that I love youbetter than myself? I could cry with joy to think that there will be nomore dull, anxious days in store for you, no worrying over Ann'sstupidity, and no fretting because sixpence would not go as far as ashilling." Then, as Mollie laughed and kissed her, "I wonder what theBlack Prince would have said if he had seen that poor littlehousekeeping book, drenched with tears?"
"Don't, Wave--please don't remind me of my silliness. Oh dear, howunhappy I used to be! And now"--and here Mollie gazed with delightedeyes down the splendid gallery--"to think that I shall ever be mistressof this! It is just like a wonderful fairy story; for none of ourcastles in the air--not even Kitlands--came up to this."
"Of course not," returned Waveney, energetically; "only Cinderella couldcompare with it." And then, in a teasing voice, "Your ladyship will notneed to glue your face against shop-windows any more. You will havediamonds and pearls of your own."
"Yes, and a pony-carriage, with cream-coloured ponies!" exclaimedMollie, joyously. "And Wave, just think! Moritz is going to give meriding-lessons! Oh, his kindness and generosity are beyond words.Darling, you must love him for his goodness to your poor little Mollie;and Wave, remember, all this will make no difference. I think I care forit so much because I shall be able to help you and father."
They were interrupted at this moment. Moritz carried off Mollie, andGwen proposed that they should follow. "For, while Moritz has beendramatising," she observed, "you two poor things have been starving."And Waveney could not deny that she was excessively hungry.
The old, grey-haired butler was in his place when they entered thedining-room. Moritz stopped to speak to him.
"Tell Mrs. Wharton that I shall bring Miss Ward to see her thisafternoon," he said; and then they took their places.
Both the girls were a little subdued by the unwonted magnificence oftheir environment, but they struggled gallantly against the feeling.
As Mollie ate her chicken, and sipped her champagne, she wondered howsoon she would get used to be waited upon by two tall footmen, and howshe would feel when she was first addressed as "My lady." "I hope Ishall not laugh," she observed to Waveney afterwards.
Waveney was wondering why she had never noticed that Moritz had ratheran aristocratic look. Their old friend, Monsieur Blackie, had always hadgood manners; but now that he was in his own house, and at his owntable, she was struck by his well-bred air and perfect ease.
"He looks like a viscount," she said to herself, "and yet he isperfectly his old self. Mollie was wiser than all of us, for she foundout that he was worthy of her love." And then Waveney fell into areverie over her strawberries. Her thoughts had strayed to a certaindull, narrow house in Dereham. Thorold Chaytor's grave face andintellectual brow seemed to rise before her. If she had his love, shewould not envy Mollie her rank and riches; she would envy no one. Evennow she had her secret happiness, for the words she had heard thatsorrowful night were for ever stamped on her memory. "Trouble? whenthere is nothing on earth that I would not do for you, my darling!" How,then, could she doubt that she was beloved?
When luncheon was over, Moritz took Mollie to the housekeeper's room andintroduced her to Mrs. Wharton. Gwen accompanied them; and then theywent back to the picture-gallery, and Mollie and Waveney feasted theireyes on the pictures and sculpture. It was pretty to see the girls whenthey recognised poor old "King Canute." Mollie actually kissed thecanvas. "You dear old thing!" she said, apostrophising it. Wretched daubas it was, crude in colouring and defective in execution, Moritz proudlytermed it the gem of the gallery.
"It helped me to win my Mollie," he said to Gwen, who was regarding itdubiously. "I painted many a worse picture when we were at the TinShanty, eh, Gwen?" And her assent to this was so emphatic that Moritzfelt decidedly snubbed; but he rose to the occasion nobly.
"Mr. Ward has not quite worked out his subject," he went on; "but hisidea is good, and I shall always venerate it as the failure of a braveman. 'A gallery of failures.' Would that not be a happy thought, Althea?Suppose you and I start a hospital, refuge, or whatever you like to callit, for diseased works of art? We would buy them cheaply, at half-price,and the poor things should live out their time." And here Moritz lookedround the company for approval.
"How about the survival of the fittest?" asked his sister, scornfully.
"Oh, that will be all right," he returned, easily. "Besides, we shouldhave no very fit specimens, in a gallery of failures. They would be inall stages of disease. But just think, my dear, what an encouragement itwould be to the artists! 'If my failure is remunerative,' the poorbeggars would say to themselves, 'I must just try again, and do betternext time.'"
"You are very absurd, Moritz." But Gwen looked decidedly amused. AndMollie, privately, thought it a clever idea.
When they had finished inspecting all the treasures in the gallery, Gwensummoned them to tea. The tea-table was in the prettiest of the alcoves,which was large enough to hold seven or eight people.
After this they went down to the gardens, and through a small fir-wood,to the Silent Pool. Here the carriage was to meet them.
Mollie and Waveney were enchanted with the Silent Pool. The still, greenpool, surrounded by the dark firs, the beauty, the stillness, and thesolemnity of the spot, inspired them with awe. To Althea it was afavourite and well-remembered place. She had visited it more than once,in the old viscount's time. For it had never been closed to the public.That still pool, with its dark, hidden depths, reminded her of her ownlife, with its calm surface, and troubled under-current. "There are somany lives like that," she thought, as she looked back at the solemnscene. And then she followed the others, down the winding path, to thelittle inn, which was known as the Brentwood Arms. Here Gwendoline badethem an affectionate farewell. And then they drove off to the station.
"It has been the most wonderful day that I have ever spent in my life!"exclaimed Molly, a little breathlessly.
"It has been a happy day to me," returned Moritz, in a low tone. "Therecan only be one day more perfect, and that will be our wedding day,Mollie."
When they reached Waterloo, Althea refused to allow Moritz to accompanythem to the Red House. Mo
llie was tired and over-excited, and must rest.He was to come to them the following evening, to meet Mr. Ward andThorold. There was to be a sort of friendly re-union. It was Noel'sbirthday, too. But there must be no more excitement for the present. AndAlthea was so firm and inexorable that Moritz had to yield.
"I think we are all tired," observed Waveney. "But it has been a lovelyday." And then, in spite of Althea's advice to rest and be quiet, sheand Mollie discussed their delightful picnic. Only, as they drove downHigh Street, and passed a certain house, Waveney became a little silent.The blinds were up, and the lamp was lighted. Waveney distinctly saw atall figure standing by the window. Althea evidently recognized it, too."Thorold has come back early from the Porch House," she said. And thenshe spoke on quite a different subject to Mollie.
The next few weeks were busy ones at the Red House. There were longmornings of shopping, and endless interviews with dressmakers andmilliners; and the all-important business of the _trousseau_ occupiedthe three ladies from morning to night.
Mollie took a child-like pleasure in it all. Prosperity did not spoilher. She was still the same simple, light-hearted Mollie of old, and theone drawback to her perfect happiness was the thought that Waveney couldnot have it too. "I wish I could give you half my _trousseau_," shesaid, quite piteously. But Waveney only laughed at her.
"Don't be a simpleton, Mollie," she returned. "Why, you foolish child,there are actually tears in your eyes! Don't you know that all thesefine things--these satins and silks and laces--would be most incongruousin my position? What could I do with them at Cleveland Terrace?"
"But you will be at Brentwood half your time," retorted Mollie. "Moritzsays he could not have the heart to separate us; and he is so fond ofyou, Wave."
"Yes, dear; but all the same, I must not expect to be as smart as yourladyship." And then Mollie made a face at her.
Moritz had not forgotten his little Samaritan, and Althea had herorders. Besides the beautiful bridesmaid's dress, a tailor-made tweed,and two pretty evening frocks were provided for Waveney; and then,indeed, Mollie was content.
There was so much to do that it was not until the beginning of July thatWaveney and Mollie went back to Cleveland Terrace to spend the last fewweeks with their father and Noel. The wedding was to be from the RedHouse, and it was already arranged that they were to return a weekbefore the marriage.
All this time Moritz had haunted his cousin's house morning, noon, andnight, and had refused to consider himself in the way. Every few daysEverard dined there, and now and then Thorold was invited to meet him.
Everard was now quite at home at the Red House. Almost insensibly he hadrelapsed into the old intimacy with Doreen and Althea. He forgot he wasonly a poor drudge of a drawing-master. He forgot his shabby dress-coat,and pitiful little economies. Brighter days were in store for him; hislittle Mollie was to be the wife of a nobleman, and Waveney was comingback to him to be the light of his home; and there was little doubt inhis mind that Noel would distinguish himself and pass his examination.
"I feel better days are coming," he said once to Althea. She was his oldfriend and confidant; he would often speak to her of his children'sfuture, and her gentle sympathy never failed him.
It was Althea's advice that he sought, when Moritz told his futurefather-in-law that he intended to allow him an income. Everard, who wasas proud as he was poor, was sorely perturbed in his mind when he heardthis.
"What am I to do?" he said, in a vexed voice, when he found himselfalone with Althea that evening. They were all in the gardentogether--Ingram, and Thorold Chaytor, and Joanna, as well as Moritz.They had broken up in little groups, and Everard and Althea had strolleddown a side path behind the Porch House.
"I wish you would give me your advice," he went on, "for I am in aterrible fix. Ralston is the most generous fellow I ever met; he wantsme to give up my teaching and accept an income from him. The fact is,"continued Everard, rather bitterly, "he is unwilling that hisfather-in-law should be only a poor devil of a drawing-master. It isjust his pride, confound him! But, as I tell him, I have my pride, too.I am afraid I hurt his feelings, though he was too kind to tell me so."
"Moritz is very sensitive," returned Althea; "in spite ofeccentricities, he is very soft-hearted; his generosity amounts to avice; he is never happy unless he is giving."
"Oh, that is all very well," replied Everard, in rather a huffy voice."But if I do not choose to be indebted to my son-in-law, surely myfeelings must be considered as well as his."
"True, my dear friend." But Althea smiled as she spoke. "But it seemsto me, if I may speak frankly, that your pride is at fault here. Moritzwishes to be a son to you; he will be your Mollie's husband; he has morethan he can spend--every year he is likely to grow richer, for, as youknow, they have found coal on the Welsh property; he and Mollie will berolling in money, and----" Here she hesitated.
"And Mollie's father will be out at elbows. Why do you not finish yoursentence, Miss Harford?"
"No; I should not have put it that way," returned Althea. "But I thinkit will be rather hard on Moritz, and doubly hard on Mollie, if yourefuse the gift that their filial love offers you. Mollie knows how youloathe teaching. It is the crown of her happiness that her marriage willenable her to help you and Waveney. Moritz intends to give her amagnificent allowance for her own private use, and directly they wereengaged he informed her that he intended to settle an income on herfather. Mr. Ward, you cannot be proud with your own children. Why notaccept your son-in-law's kindness? I am sure you will not repent it."And then Everard yielded.
Mollie and Waveney were overjoyed when they heard that Althea's counselhad prevailed, and Moritz was excessively pleased; he was even disposedto encroach a little on his privileges, only Althea begged him to becautious.
"You and Moritz must bide your time," she said, one day, to the littlebride-elect; "you have both gained a victory, and you must be contentwith that for the present. Your father told Waveney the other day thatnothing would induce him to leave Cleveland Terrace. Your mother diedthere," she continued, in a low voice, "and I suppose that is why he isattached to the house."
"Yes; but it is such a dingy, dull little place," returned Mollie,sadly, "and Moritz meant to buy such a pretty house, and furnish it sobeautifully. But I suppose we shall have to wait."
"Indeed, you must. But cheer up, Mollie; new carpets and curtains, andlight, tasteful papers will soon transform Number Ten, ClevelandTerrace, into a charming abode--indeed, I do not believe you willrecognise it."
"And Ann is to be sent away? You are sure of that, Miss Althea?"
"Yes, and two good servants are to replace her. Waveney will have notrouble with her housekeeping. Now I hear Moritz's voice, and you knowhis lordship objects to be kept waiting!" And at this hint Mollieblushed beautifully and ran away.
Mollie's Prince: A Novel Page 40
