Beechcroft at Rockstone
Page 33
'Not pecuniarily.'
'Oh, it will be quite possible to see to all that! Besides, think of the advantage to her schemes. Oh yes, dear Jenny, it will be a wrench to her, of course, and she will miss me; but, when that is once got over, she will feel that I have acted for the best. Nor will it be such a separation; he means always to spend the summer here, and the winter and spring at Florence or Rocca Marina.' It was grand to hear the Italian syllables roll from Adeline's tongue. 'You know he could take the title if he pleased.'
'I am sure I hope he will not do anything so ridiculous!'
'Oh no, of course not!' But it was plain that the secret consciousness of being Countess of Rocca Marina was an offset against being plain Mrs. White, and Adeline continued: 'There is another thing-I do not quite see how it can be managed about Kalliope otherwise, poor girl!'
It was quite true that the care of Kalliope would be greatly facilitated by Mr. White's marriage; but what was absurd was to suppose that Ada would have made any sacrifice for her sake, or any one else's, and there was something comical as well as provoking in this pose of devotion to the public good.
'You are decided, then?'
'Oh no! I am only showing you what inducements there are to give up so much as I should do here-if I make up my mind to it.'
'There's only one inducement, I should think, valid for a moment.'
'Yes'-bridling a little. 'But, Lily, you always had your romance. We don't all meet with a Jasper at the right moment, and-and'-the Maid of Athens drooped her eyelids, and ingenuously curved her lips. 'I do think the poor man has it very much at heart.'
'Then you ought not to keep him in suspense.'
'And you-you really are not against it, Lily?' (rather in a disappointed tone), as if she expected to have her own value enhanced.
'I think you ought to do whatever is most right and just by him, and everybody else. If you really care for the man enough to overlook his origin, and his occasional betrayals of it, and think he will make you better and happier, take him at once; but don't pretend to call it a sacrifice, or for anybody's sake but for your own; and, any way, don't trifle with him and his suspense.'
Lady Merrifield spoke with unwonted severity, for she was really provoked.
'But, Lily, I must see what the others say-William and Emily. I told him that William was the head of our family.'
'If you mean to be guided by them, well and good; if not, I see no sense in asking them.'
After all, the family commotion fell short of what was expected by either of the sisters. The eldest brother, Mr. Mohun, of Beechcroft Court, wrote to the lady herself that she was quite old enough to know what was for her own happiness, and he had no desire to interfere with her choice if she preferred wealth to station. To Lady Merrifield his letter began: 'It is very well it is no worse, and as Jasper vouches for this being a worthy man, and of substantial means, there is no valid objection. I shall take care to overhaul the settlements, and, if possible, I must make up poor Jane's income.'
The sister, Lady Henry Grey, in her dowager seclusion at Brighton, contented herself with a general moan on the decadence of society, and the levelling up that made such an affair possible. She had been meditating a visit to Rockquay, to see her dear Lilias (who, by the bye, had run down to her at Brighton for a day out of the stay in London), but now she would defer it till this matter was over. It would be too trying to have to accept this stonemason as one of the family.
As to Colonel Mohun, being one of the younger division of the family, there was no idea of consulting him, and he wrote a fairly civil little note to Adeline, hoping that she had decided for the best, and would be happy; while to the elder of the pair of sisters he said: 'So Ada has found her crooked stick at last. I always thought it inevitable. Keep up heart, old Jenny, and hold on till Her Majesty turns me off, and then we will see what is to be done.'
Perhaps this cool acquiescence was less pleasing to Adeline Mohun than a contest that would have proved her value and importance, and her brother William's observation that she was old enough to know her own mind was the cruellest cut of all. On the other hand, there was no doubt of her swain's devotion. If he had been influenced in his decision by convenience or calculation, he was certainly by this time heartily in love. Not only was Adeline a handsome, graceful woman, whose airs and affectations seemed far more absurd to those who had made merry over them from childhood than to a stranger of an inferior grade; but there was a great charm to a man, able to appreciate refinement, in his first familiar intercourse with thorough ladies. Jane began to be touched by the sight of his devotion, and convinced of his attachment, and sometimes wondered with Lady Merrifield whether Adeline would rise to her opportunities and responsibilities, or be satisfied to be a petted idol.
One difficulty in this time of suspense was, that the sisters had no right to take into their confidence the young folks, who were quite sharp-eyed enough to know that something was going on, and, not being put on honour, were not withheld from communicating their discoveries to one another in no measured words, though fortunately they had sense enough, especially under the awe of their father, not to let them go any further than Mysie, who was entertaining because she was shocked at their audacious jokes and speculations, all at first on the false scent of their elder aunt, who certainly was in a state of excitement and uncertainty enough to throw her off the even tenor of her way and excite some suspicion. When she actually brought down a number of the Contemporary Review instead of Friendly Work for the edification of her G.F.S., Gillian tried not to look too conscious when some of the girls actually tittered in the rear; and she absolutely blushed when Aunt Jane deliberately stated that Ascension Day would fall on a Tuesday. So Gillian averred as she walked up the hill with Jasper and Mysie. It seemed a climax to the diversion she and Jasper had extracted from it in private, both wearing Punch's spectacles for the nonce, and holding such aberrations as proof positive. Mysie, on the other hand, was much exercised.
'Do you think she is in love, then?'
'Oh yes! People always do those things in love. Besides, the Sofi hasn't got a single white hair in her, and you know what that always means!'
'I can't make it out! I can't think how Aunt Jane can be in love with a great man like that. His voice isn't nice, you know-'
'Not even as sweet as Bully Bottom's,' suggested Gillian.
'You're a chit,' said Jasper, 'or you'd be superior to the notion of love being indispensable.'
'When people are so very old,' said Mysie in a meditative voice, 'perhaps they can't; but Aunt Jane is very good-and I thought it was only horrid worldly people that married without love.'
'Trust your good woman for looking to the main chance,' said Jasper, who was better read in Trollope and Mrs. Oliphant than his sisters.
''Tis not main chance,' said Gillian. 'Think of the lots of good she would do! What a recreation room for the girls, and what schools she would set up at Rocca Marina! Depend upon it, it's for that!'
'I suppose it is right if Aunt Jane does it,' said Mysie.
'Well done, Mysie! So, Aunt Jane is your Pope!'
'No; she's the King that can do no wrong,' said Gillian, laughing.
'Wrong-I didn't say wrong-but things aren't always real wrong that aren't somehow quite right, said Mysie, with the bewildered reasoning of perceptions that outran her powers of expression.
'Mysie's speeches, for instance,' said Jasper.
'Oh, Japs, what did I say wrong?'
'Don't tease her, Japs. He didn't mean morally, but correctly.'
The three were on their way up the hill when they met Primrose, who had accompanied Mrs. Halfpenny to see Kalliope, and who was evidently in a state of such great discomposure that they all stood round to ask what was the matter; but she hung down her head and would not say.
'Hoots! toots! I tell her she need not make such a work about it,' said Mrs. Halfpenny. 'The honest man did but kiss her, and no harm for her uncle that is to be.'
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p; 'He's a nasty man! And he snatched me up! And he is all scrubby and tobacco-ey, and I won't have him for an uncle,' cried Primrose.
'I hope he is not going to proceed in that way,' said Gillian sotto voce to Mysie.
'People always do snatch up primroses,' said Jasper.
'Don't, Japs! I don't like marble men. I wish they would stay marble.'
'You don't approve of the transformation?'
'Oh, Japs, is it true? Mysie, you know the statue at Rotherwood, where Pig-my-lion made a stone figure and it turned into a woman.'
'Yes; but it was a woman and this is a man.'
Mysie began an exposition of classic fable to her little sister, while Mrs. Halfpenny explained that this came of Christian folk setting up heathen idols in their houses as 'twas a shame for decent folk to look at, let alone puir bairnies; while Jasper and Gillian gasped in convulsions of laughter, and bandied queries whether their aunt were the statue 'Pig-my-lion' had animated, as nothing could be less statuesque than she, whether the reverse had taken place, as Primrose observed, and she had been the Pygmalion to awaken the soul in the man of marble. Here, however, Mrs. Halfpenny became scandalised at such laughter in the open street; and, perceiving some one in the distance, she carried off Primrose, and enjoined the others to walk on doucely and wiselike.
Gillian was on her way to visit Kalliope and make an appointment for her mother to take her out for a drive; but as they passed the gate at Beechcroft out burst Valetta and Fergus, quite breathless.
'Oh, Gill, Gill! Mr. White is in the drawing-room, and he has brought Aunt Ada the most beautiful box you ever saw, with all the stoppers made of gold !'
'And he says I may get all the specimens I like at Rocca Marina,' shouted Fergus.
'Ivory brushes, and such a ring-sparkling up to the ceiling!' added Valetta.
'But, Val, Ferg, whom did you say?' demanded the elders, coming within the shadow of the copper beeches.
'Aunt Ada,' said Valetta; 'there's a great A engraved on all those dear, lovely bottles, and-oh, they smell!'
'Aunt Ada! Oh, I thought--'
'What did you think, Gill?' said Aunt Jane, coming from the grass- plat suddenly on them.
'Oh, Aunt Jane, I am so glad!' cried Gillian. 'I thought'-and she blushed furiously.
'They made asses of themselves,' said Jasper.
'They said it was you,' added Mysie. 'Miss Mellon told Miss Elbury,' she added in excuse.
'Me? No, I thank you! So you are glad, Gillian?'
'Oh yes, aunt! I couldn't have borne for you to do anything-queer'- -and there was a look in Gillian's face that went to Jane's heart, and under other circumstances would have produced a kiss, but she rallied to her line of defence.
'My dear, you must not call this queer. Mr. White is very much attached to your aunt Ada, and I think he will make her very happy, and give her great opportunities of doing good.'
'That's just what Gillian said when she was afraid it was you,' said Mysie. 'I suppose that's it? And that makes it real right.'
'And the golden stoppers!' said Valetta innocently, but almost choking Jasper with laughter, which must be suppressed before his aunt.
'May one know it now?' asked Gillian, sensible of the perilous ground.
'Yes, my dears; you must have been on tenter-hooks all this time, for, of course, you saw there was a crisis, and you behaved much better than I should have done at your age; but it was only a fait accompli this very day, and we couldn't tell you before.'
'When he brought down the golden stoppers,' Jasper could not help saying.
'No, no, you naughty boy! He would not have dared to bring it in before; he came before luncheon-all that came after. Oh, my dear, that dressing-case is perfectly awful! I wouldn't have such a burthen on my mind-for-for all the orphans in London! I hope there are no banditti at Rocca Marina.'
'Only accepted to-day! How did he get all his great A's engraved?' said Jasper practically.
'He could not have had many doubts,' said Gillian. 'Does Kalliope know?'
'I cannot tell; I think he has probably told her.'
'He must have met Primrose there,' said Jasper. 'Poor Prim!' And the offence and the Pig-my-lion story were duly related, much to Aunt Jane's amusement.
'But,' she said, 'I think that the soul in the marble man is very real, and very warm; and, dear children, don't get into the habit of contemning him. Laugh, I suppose you must; I am afraid it must look ridiculous at our age; but please don't despise. I am going down to your mother.
'May I come with you! said Gillian. 'I don't think I can go to Kally till I have digested this a little; and, if you are going to mamma, she won't drive her out.'
Jane was much gratified by this volunteer, though Jasper did suggest that Gill was afraid of Primrose's treatment. He went on with the other three to Clipston, while Gillian exclaimed-
'Oh, Aunt Jane, shall not you be very lonely?'
'Not nearly so much so as if you were not all here,' said her aunt cheerfully. 'When you bemoaned your sisters last year we did not think the same thing was coming on me.'
'Phyllis and Alethea! It was a very different thing,' said Gillian. 'Besides, though I hated it so much, I had got used to being without them.'
'And to tell you the truth, Gill, nothing in that way ever was so bad to me as your own mother going and marrying; and now, you see, I have got her back again-and more too.'
Aunt Jane's smile and softened eyes told that the young niece was included in the 'more too'; and Gillian felt a thrill of pleasure and affection in this proof that after all she was something to the aunt, towards whom her feelings had so entirely changed. She proceeded, however, to ask with considerable anxiety what would be done about the Whites, Kalliope especially; and in return she was told about the present plan of Kalliope's being taken to Italy to recover first, and then to pursue her studies at Florence, so as to return to her work more capable, and in a higher position.
'Oh, how exquisite!' cried Gillian. 'But how about all the others?'
'The very thing I want to see about, and talk over with your mother. I am sure she ought to go; and it will not even be wasting time, for she cannot earn anything.'
Talking over things with Lady Merrifield was, however, impeded, for, behold, there was a visitor in the drawing-room. Aunt and niece exchanged glances of consternation as they detected a stranger's voice through the open window, and Gillian uttered a vituperative whisper.
'I do believe it is that dreadful Fangs;' then, hoping her aunt had not heard-'Captain Henderson, I mean. He threatened to come down after us, and now he will always be in and out; and we shall have no peace. He has got nothing on earth to do '
Gillian's guess was right. The neat, trim, soldierly figure, with a long fair moustache and pleasant gray eyes, was introduced to Miss Mohun as 'Captain Henderson, one of my brother officers,' by Sir Jasper, who stood on the rug talking to him. Looks and signs among the ladies were token enough that the crisis had come; and Lady Merrifield soon secured freedom of speech by proposing to drive her sister to Clipston, while Sir Jasper asked his visitor to walk with him.
'You will be in haste to sketch the place,' he said, 'before the workmen have done their best to demolish its beauty.'
As for Gillian, she saw her aunt hesitating on account of a parochial engagement for that afternoon; and, as it was happily not beyond her powers, she offered herself as a substitute, and was thankfully accepted. She felt quite glad to do anything obliging towards her aunt Jane, and in a mood very unlike last year's grudging service; it was only reading to the 'mothers' meeting,' since among the good ladies there prevailed such a strange incapacity of reading aloud, that this part of the business was left to so few that for one to fail, either in presence or in voice, was very inconvenient. All were settled down to their needlework, with their babies disposed of as best they might be. Mr. Hablot had finished his little lecture, and the one lady with a voice had nearly exhausted it, and there was a slight sensation at the absenc
e of the unfailing Miss Mohun, when Gillian came in with the apologies about going to drive with her mother.
'And,' as she described it afterwards 'didn't those wretched beings all grin and titter, even the ladies, who ought to have had more manners, and that old Miss Mellon, who is a real growth of the hotbed of gossip, simpered and supposed we must look for such things now; and, though I pretended not to hear, my cheeks would go and flame up as red as-that tasconia, just with longing to tell them Aunt Jane was not so ridiculous; and so I took hold of For Half a Crown, and began to read it as if I could bite them all!'
She read herself into a state of pacification, but did not attempt to see Kalliope that day, being rather shy of all that might be encountered in that house, especially after working hours. The next day, however, Lady Merrifield's services were required to chaperon the coy betrothed in an inspection of Cliff House and furniture, which was to be renovated according to her taste, and Gillian was to take that time for a visit to Kalliope, whom she expected to find in the garden. The usual corner was, however, vacant; and Mr. White was heard making a growl of 'Foolish girl! Doesn't know which way her bread is buttered.'
Maura, however, came running up, and said to Gillian, 'Please come this way. She is here.'
'What has she hidden herself for?' demanded Mr. White. 'I thought she might have been here to welcome this-Miss Adeline.'
'She is not very well to-day,' faltered Maura.
'Oh! ay, fretting. Well, I thought she had more sense.'
Gillian followed Maura, who was no sooner out of hearing than she began: 'It is too bad of him to be so cross. Kally really is so upset! She did not sleep all night, and I thought she would have fainted quite away this morning!'
'Oh dear! has he been worrying her?'
'She is very glad and happy, of course, about Miss Ada! and he won't believe it, because he wants her to go out to Italy with them for all next winter.'
'And won't she? Oh, what a pity!'