'Yours affectionately,
'J. GARDNER.
'P.S.--Mrs. Martindale looked very well. I hope she will have no recurrence of faintings.'
'From Jane Gardner,' said Theodora; 'only to put me in mind of the picnic. Will you go, Arthur?'
'I never was more glad to be on her Majesty's service. What an abominable bore it would be!'
'That is what gentlemen always say of picnics,' said Theodora.
'Not at all,' said Percy. 'A real country party of merry happy people, knowing each other well, and full of genuine honest glee, is one of the most enjoyable things that can be.'
'That it is!' cried Violet. 'There was the day we went up Skiddaw, with no one but our cousins and Mr. Fanshawe, and dined on the mountain in sight of the valley of St. John; and the rain came on, and Mr. Fanshawe sat all the time holding an umbrella over Annette and the pigeon-pie.'
'That was worth doing,' said Percy; 'but for a parcel of fine ladies and gentlemen to carry the airs and graces, follies and competitions, born in ball-rooms and nursed in soirees, out into pure country air and daylight, is an insult to the green fields and woods.'
'That is a speech in character of author,' said Theodora.
'In character of rational being.'
'Which you would not have made if the party had not been Georgina Finch's.'
'I had no notion whose it was, or anything about it.'
'It is for her birthday, Tuesday,' said Violet. 'They are to have a steamer to Richmond, walk about and dine there; but I should not think that it would be very pleasant. Mrs. Bryanstone had one of these parties last year to Hampton Court, and she told me that unless they were well managed they were the most disagreeable things in the world; people always were losing each other, and getting into scrapes. She declared she never would have another.'
'Mrs. Bryanstone has no idea of management,' said Theodora.
'I know who has less,' said Arthur. 'Your Georgina will let every one take their chance, and the worse predicaments people get into the louder she will laugh.'
'There is nothing so intolerable as a woman who thinks herself too fashionable for good manners,' said Percy.
'Is any one waiting for an answer?' asked Violet.
'There is none,' said Theodora. 'They know I mean to go.'
'To go!' exclaimed all three, who had thought the question settled by Arthur's refusal.
'Yes, of course; I go with Georgina.'
'With Mark Gardner, and the king of the clothes-brushes, and all their train, in moustaches and parti-coloured parasols!' cried Percy. 'Theodora, I thought you were a sensible woman.'
'I am sorry if I forfeit that claim to your regard.'
'Well, if I was your mother! However, it is devoutly to be hoped that it may rain.'
He then changed the conversation, and no more passed on this subject till, as he wished her good night, he said, in a low voice, 'Think better of it, Theodora.'
'My mind is made up,' was the proud reply. In a few seconds he called Arthur to him on the stairs. 'Arthur,' he said, 'if your sister is set on this wrong-headed scheme, at least don't let her go with no one to look after her. Let her have some respectable person with her, merely for propriety's sake. She fancies me prejudiced, and we have agreed to dispute no more on the woman's goings on; but you have the keeping of her now.'
'I wish Mrs. Finch was at Jericho, and Theodora after her!' exclaimed Arthur, petulantly; 'they will worry my wife to death between them.'
'Then Theodora had better go home,' said Percy, soberly.
'No, no; we can't do without her. She takes good care of Violet, and is very attentive and useful, and I can't have Violet left alone. If we could but get her down off her high horse, and drive that impudent woman out of her head!--if you can't, no one else can.'
'It is very unfortunate,' said Percy. 'There is so much generous feeling and strong affection to prompt her resistance, that it is hard to oppose her, especially as I do believe there is no worse than folly and levity in this friend of hers. I wish these occasions would not arise. Left to herself these people would soon disgust her but for her own sake we must interfere, and that keeps up her partisanship.'
'What is to be done?' was Violet's disconsolate beginning, as soon as she could see Arthur alone.
'Take it easy'--words which she had taught herself to regard as a warning that she was doleful. 'Never mind; if Theodora is so pig- headed as to rush into this scheme, it is no concern of yours. All you have to do is to take care not to be worried.'
Violet had regained a cheerful voice. 'If you were going with her, it would not signify.'
'It would signify pretty much to me to be bored with all that riff- raff. One would think Theodora bewitched.'
'There is hardly any one of our acquaintance.'
'No, the lady has dropped pretty much in the scale.'
'I wish I knew what your father and mother would think of it.'
'They would hate it as much as we do, but they could not prevent it. Nobody can stop Theodora when once she has the bit between her teeth. As I told Percy, if he can't, 'tis past all power. I wonder if he thinks by this time he has caught a Tartar?'
'Did he call you to speak about it?'
'Yes; to say I must by no means let her go without a respectable female to look after her.'
'I don't know these ladies; but if Mrs. Finch would ask Mrs. Bryanstone, she is so good-natured that I dare say she would go.'
'That would be the most tolerable way of doing it; but I would lay you anything you please that nothing but unmitigated Finch will content her.'
'And that is worse than no one.'
'I wish some stop could be put to it. It is worse than Percy knows. She can't speak to a man without flirting, and we shall have her turning some poor fellow's head, like Wingfield's. I don't think it is respectable!'
'It is very strange, so good and religious as she is.'
'Where is the use of her religion if it does not bring down her pride or cure her obstinacy? If it would, I should see some good in the rout she makes about going to church and teaching dirty children.'
'Oh! Arthur, dear, don't say that.'
'It is the truth, though.'
'I think,' said Violet, diffidently, 'that some day the good will conquer the rest. Some day she will feel these things to be wrong and strive against them.'
'Do you mean that she does not know it is wrong to be as wilful and proud as Lucifer?'
'I do not think she knows she has those tendencies.'
Arthur laughed and shook his head. 'One learns one's faults as one grows older, you know,' continued Violet, 'and she is so very kind. Think of her giving up all going out in the evening to stay with me; and you don't know how she waits on baby and me. She is so grand and noble, that kindness from her is delightful, and her face when it softens is so like you! Some book says that high natures have the most trouble with their faults.'
'Then hers ought to be high indeed.'
Violet began the day by telling Arthur that his sister would go to make arrangements with Mrs. Finch, and asked him to tell her of their decision before he returned to Windsor that morning.
'Our decision! What do you mean!'
'Don't you remember about Mrs. Bryanstone?'
'Oh! if that is to be done, you must say it. Ladies must manage their own visiting affairs. I don't understand chaperons and stuff.'
'Arthur, you don't mean me to speak?'
'If it is to be done at all, it is woman's work, and I see no use in it. She will toss her head, and only be more resolved on her own way.'
'Oh, Arthur, one moment! Did you not say it ought to be done?'
'Of course it ought; but it is of no use, and if you are wise, you will not tease yourself.'
'But you said Percy insisted on it.'
'So he did, but if he cannot tackle her himself, I am sure we can't. I'll have nothing to do with it--it is no affair of mine.'
'Then, am I to let her alone?'
'As you choose. I wish she would hear reason, but it is not worth bothering yourself for, when it is of no use.'
'What do you wish me to do? I wish I knew--'
He shut the door behind him, and Violet tried to recover from her dismay. Thankful would she have been for commands not to interfere; but to be left to her own judgment was terrible when she knew that his true opinion coincided with hers. How could she hope to prevail, or not to forfeit the much-prized affection that seemed almost reluctantly to be at last bestowed?
But, cost what it might, Violet never swerved from a duty, and her mind was clear that to permit Theodora to join the party alone without remonstrance, and without the knowledge of her parents, would be improper. She resolved not to confuse herself with fears and anxieties, and strove to dwell on whatever could steady or calm her mind for the undertaking. How wide a difference in moral courage there was between that tall grenadier and his timid delicate wife.
Arthur and Theodora were both down-stairs before her, and the latter was preparing breakfast, when there was a knock. 'Percy!' she thought. 'He shall see how useless it is to interfere!'
'Mr. Albert Moss!'
Arthur threw aside his newspaper, and held out his hand with a fair show of welcome. 'Ha! Moss, how are you? Your sister will be down- stairs directly. Miss Martindale--'
Theodora was resolved against being supercilious, but Mr. Moss's intention of shaking hands obliged her to assert her dignity by a princess-like inclination.
'Good morning,' said Albert. 'I came to town yesterday--slept at my uncle's--have this day in London--much occupied--thought myself sure of you at breakfast.'
'I will tell Mrs. Martindale,' said Theodora, glad to escape that she might freely uplift her eyes at his self-sufficiency, and let her pity for Arthur exhale safely on the stairs.
She met Violet, and was vexed at her start of joy, only consoling herself by thinking that she did not look as if she was his sister. Indeed, after the momentary instinct of gladness, came fears lest Arthur might not be pleased, and Theodora be annoyed; but the familiar home-like voice drove away all except pleasure as soon as she was certified that her husband's brow was smooth. His presence was a restraint, keeping Albert on his best behaviour, so that there was nothing to disturb her present enjoyment of home tidings. That good-humour and ease of his were indeed valuable ingredients of comfort.
He asked Albert to dinner, and desired him to bring Uncle Christopher, if they chose to be entertained by the ladies alone, further offering him a seat in his cab as far as their roads lay together. Highly gratified, Albert proceeded to ask his sister whether she was able to execute a commission for Matilda, the matching of a piece of chenille. Violet readily undertook it, and he said, 'he would explain the occasion on his return.'
When they were gone, the cares of the morning returned upon her, and by the time her household affairs were finished, all her pulses were throbbing at the prospect of the effort to which she was nerving herself. She ordered herself to be quiet, and lay down on the sofa, leaving the door open that Theodora might not go out without her knowledge.
'It is my duty,' repeated she to herself. 'If I turn from it because it is so dreadful to me, I shall not take up my cross! If she will only listen and not be angry!'
Nearly an hour passed, the day seeming to grow warmer and more oppressive, and a nervous headache coming on. Poor Violet! she was still a frightened child, and when she saw Theodora coming down with her bonnet on, the fluttering of her heart made her call so feeble that Theodora supposed her ill, and came to her with kind solicitude that rendered it still harder to say what she knew would be taken as an affront.
With great difficulty she uttered the words, 'I only wanted to speak to you about this expedition to Richmond.'
'Well,' said Theodora, smiling with what was meant for good-humour, but was only scorn, 'you need not distress yourself, my dear, I am ready to hear.'
'Would you get Mrs. Finch to ask Mrs. Bryanstone, and go with her?' Violet could really speak at no more length.
'It would be folly. Mrs. Bryanstone would be out of her element, and only a nuisance to herself and every one else. That will do. You have discharged your conscience.'
'It is not myself alone,' said Violet, sitting up, and gathering force to speak firmly and collectedly, but with her hand on her heart. 'Your brother and I both think it is not right, nor what Lord and Lady Martindale would approve, that you should join this party without some one they know and like.'
You mistake, Violet. This is not like a ball. There is no absurd conventionality, tacking a spinster to a married woman.'
'No, but since. Arthur cannot be with you, it is needful to take measures to prevent any awkwardness for you.'
'Thank you. I'll take care of that.'
'Dear Theodora, I did not mean to vex you; but will you only put yourself in our place for one moment. Your father and mother let you stay here on the understanding that you go out with us, and when we cannot go, do you think we ought to see you put yourself under the escort of a person to whom we believe they would object?'
'I have told you that I know what my own father and mother permit.'
Violet was silent, and pressed her hand on her brow, feeling as if all her prepared arguments and resolutions were chased away by the cool disregard which seemed to annihilate them even in her own eyes. By an effort, however, she cleared her mind, conjured back her steadiness, and spoke, preserving her voice with difficulty from being plaintive. 'You may know what they permit you, but we owe them duties too. Theodora, if you will not take some one with you whom we know they would approve, we must write and ask what Lord Martindale would wish.'
'Arthur will never write,' said Theodora, in defiance; but the answer took her by surprise--'If he does not, I shall.'
'If there is to be such a rout, I will not go at all.'
'Indeed I think it would be the best plan,' said Violet, removing the hand that had been hiding the springing tears, to look up beseechingly, and see whether the project were resigned, and herself spared the letter which she well knew would be left to her lot.
But for those wistful eyes, Theodora would have felt caught in her own trap; for such speeches had often brought governess, mother, and even aunt, to humble entreaties that she would take her own course. She had to recollect her words before she perceived that she had yielded, and that she must abide by them. Anything was better than the humiliation of Violets sending home complaints of her conduct. She was greatly incensed; but a glance at the gentle, imploring face, and the hands trying in vain not to tremble with nervousness, could not but turn away her wrath. It was impossible to manifest displeasure; but to speak a word of concession seemed still more impossible. She impetuously threw off her bonnet, seized a pen, dashed off a few lines, and tossed the note and its envelope into Violet's lap, saying, in her low voice of proud submission, 'There! you will send it,' and left the room. Violet read
'MY DEAR GEORGINA,--My brother is engaged at Windsor, and I cannot join your party to Richmond.
'Yours sincerely,
'TH. A. MARTINDALE.
'Mrs. Martindale is pretty well, thank you.'
Violet almost expected Theodora's next note would announce her return home. She had been forced to give up all the affection so slowly gained, and to wound her proud sister-in-law where she was most sensitive. Should she hold Theodora to this renunciation, and send the note she had extorted, or should she once more ask whether this was in earnest, and beg her to reconsider the alternative?
But Violet was convinced that Theodora intended to hear no more about the matter, and that nothing would be such an offence as to be supposed to have acted hastily. She was afraid of renewing the subject, lest her weakness should lose her what she had gained. 'Better,' thought she, 'that Theodora should think me presumptuous and troublesome than that she should mix herself up with these people, and, perhaps, displease Percy for ever. But, oh! if I could but have done it without vexing her, and to-day, t
oo, when she has to bear with Albert.'
Violet felt that she must give way to her headache, trusting that when it had had its will it might allow her to be bright enough to make a fair show before Albert. She lay with closed eyes, her ear not missing one tick of the clock, nor one sound in the street, but without any distinct impression conveyed to her thoughts, which were wandering in the green spots in the park at Wrangerton, or in John's descriptions of the coral reefs of the West Indies. The first interruption was Sarah's bringing down the baby, whom she was forced to dismiss at once.
Again all was still, but the half slumber was soon interrupted, something cold and fragrant was laid on her brow, and, thinking Sarah would not be satisfied without attending to her, she murmured thanks, without opening her eyes. But the hand that changed the cool handkerchief was of softer texture; and, looking up, she saw Theodora bending over her, with the face so like Arthur's, and making every demonstration of kindness and attention--drawing down blinds, administering sal volatile, and doing everything in her service.
Not that Theodora was in the least subdued. She was burning with resentment with every one--with Percy and his prejudice; with the gossiping world; with her friends for making this a trial of power; with Arthur for having put forward his poor young wife when it cost her so much. 'He knew I should not have given way to him! Feebleness is a tyrant to the strong. It was like putting the women and children on the battlements of a besieged city. It was cowardly; unkind to her, unfair on me. She is a witch!'
But candour was obliged to acknowledge that it had not been feebleness that had been the conqueror. Violet had made no demonstration of going into fits; it had been her resolution, her strength, not her weakness, that had gained the victory. Chafe as Theodora might, she could not rid herself of the consciousness that the sister of that underbred attorney--that timid, delicate, soft, shrinking being, so much her junior--had dared to grapple with her fixed determination, and had gained an absolute conquest. 'Tyrant!' thought Theodora, 'my own brother would have left me alone, but she has made him let her interfere. She means to govern us all, and the show of right she had here has overthrown me for once; but it shall not happen again.'
Heartsease or Brother's Wife Page 35
