'I hope they do not know all! Mary would not believe it, that is one comfort!'
'Ah, Louis! there are things that the heart will not believe, but which cut it deeply! However, if that could be any comfort to them, he wishes them to spare nothing here. He tells them they may live at the rate of five thousand pounds a-year, poor dears. Indeed, he and Oliver are in such glory over their Equatorial steam navigation, that I expect next to hear of a crash.'
'You don't look as if it would be a very dreadful sound.'
'If it would only bring my poor Oliver back to me!'
'Yes-nothing would make Jem so civil to him as his coming floated in on a plank, wet through, with a little bundle in one hand and a parrot in the other.'
Mrs. Frost gave one of her tender laughs, and filled up the picture. 'Jane would open the door, Jane would know Master Oliver's black eyes in a moment-'No, no. _I_ must see him first! If he once looked up I could not miss him, whatever colour he may have turned. I wonder whether he would know me!'
'Don't you know that you grow handsomer every year, Aunt Kitty?'
'Don't flatter, sir.'
'Well, I most go to my aunt.'
He tarried to hear the welcome recital of all the kind deeds of the house of Conway. He presently found Lady Conway awaiting him in the drawing-room, and was greeted with great joy. 'That is well! I hoped to work on your father by telling him I did not approve of young men carrying industry too far-'
'That is not my habit.'
'Then it is your excuse for avoiding troublesome relations! No, not a word! I know nothing about the secret that occupied Isabel at Mrs. Ponsonby's select party. But I really wanted you. You are more au fait as to the society here than the Ponsonbys and Dynevors. Ah! when does that come off?'
'What is to come off?'
'Miss Ponsonby and Mr. Dynevor. What a good creature he is!'
'I cannot see much likelihood of it, but you are more on the scene of action.'
'She could do much better, with such expectations, but on his account I could not be sorry. It is shocking to think of that nice young sister being a governess. I think it a duty to give her every advantage that may tend to form her. With her connexions and education, I can have no objection to her as a companion to your cousins, and with a few advantages, though she will never be handsome, she might marry well. They are a most interesting family. Isabel and I are most anxious to do all in our power for them.'
'Clara is obliged,' said Louis, with undetected irony, but secret wonder at the dexterity with which the patronage must have been administered so as not to have made the interesting family fly off at a tangent.
Isabel made her appearance in her almost constant morning dress of soft dove-coloured merino entirely unadorned, and looking more like a maiden in a romance than ever. She had just left Adeline standing on the steps of a stone cross, exhorting the Provencals to arm against a descent of Moorish corsairs, and she held out her hand to Fitzjocelyn much as Adeline did, when the fantastic Viscount professed his intention of flying instead of fighting, and wanted her to sit behind him on his courser.
Lady Conway pronounced her council complete, and propounded the fete which she wished to give on the 12th of January in honour of Louisa's birthday. Isabel took up a pencil, and was lost in sketching wayside crosses, and vessels with lateen sails, only throwing in a word or two here and there when necessary. Dancing was still, Lady Conway feared, out of the question with Fitzjocelyn.
'And always will be, I suspect. So much for my bargain with Clara to dance with her at her first ball!'
'You like dancing?' exclaimed Isabel, rejoiced to find another resemblance to the fantastic Viscount.
'Last year's Yeomanry ball was the best fun in the world!'
'There, Isabel,' said Lady Conway, 'you ought to be gratified to find a young man candid enough to allow that he likes it! But since that cannot be, I must find some other plan-'
'What cannot be?' exclaimed Louis. 'You don't mean to omit the dancing-'
'It could not be enjoyed without you. Your cousins and friends could not bear to see you sitting down-'
Isabel's lips were compressed, and the foam of her waves laughed scornfully under her pencil.
'They must get accustomed to the melancholy spectacle,' said Louis. 'I do not mean to intermit the Yeomanry ball, if it take place while I am at home. The chaperons are the best company, after all. Reconsider it, my dear aunt, or you will keep me from coming at all.'
Lady Conway was only considering of tableaux, and Louis took fire at the notion: he already beheld Waverley in his beloved Yeomanry suit, Isabel as Flora, Clara as Davie Gellatley-the character she would most appreciate. Isabel roused herself to say that tableaux were very dull work to all save the actors, and soon were mere weariness to them. Her stepmother told her she had once been of a different mind, when she had been Isabel Bruce, kneeling in her cell, the ring before her. 'I was young enough then to think myself Isabel,' was her answer, and she drew the more diligently because Fitzjocelyn could not restrain an interjection, and a look which meant, 'What an Isabel she must have been!'
She sat passive while Lady Conway and Louis decked up a scene for Flora MacIvor; but presently it appeared that the Waverley of the piece was to be, according to Louis, not the proper owner of the Yeomanry uniform, but James Frost. His aunt exclaimed, and the rehearsals were strong temptation; but he made answer, 'No-you must not reckon on me: my father would not like it.'
The manful childishness, the childish manfulness of such a reply, were impenetrable. If his two-and-twenty years did not make him ashamed of saying so, nothing else could, and it covered a good deal. He knew that his father's fastidious pride would dislike his making a spectacle of himself, and thought that it would be presuming unkindly on to-day's liberty to involve himself in what would necessitate terms more intimate than were desired.
The luncheon silenced the consultation, which was to be a great secret from the children; but afterwards, when it was resumed, with the addition of James Frost, Fitzjocelyn was vexed to find the tableaux discarded; not avowedly because he excluded himself from a share, but because the style of people might not understand them. The entertainment was to be a Christmas-tree-not so hackneyed a spectacle in the year 1848 as in 1857-and Louis launched into a world of couplets for mottoes. Next came the question of guests, when Lady Conway read out names from the card-basket, and Fitzjocelyn was in favour of everybody, till Jem, after many counter-statements, assured Lady Conway that he was trying to fill her rooms with the most intolerable people in the world.
'My aunt said she wanted to give pleasure.'
'Ah! there's nothing so inconvenient to one's friends as good nature. Who cares for what is shared indiscriminately?'
'I don't think I can trust Fitzjocelyn with my visiting-list just yet,' said Lady Conway. 'You are too far above to be sensible of the grades beneath, with your place made for you.'
'Not at all,' said Louis. 'Northwold tea-parties were my earliest, most natural dissipation; and I spoke for these good people for my own personal gratification.'
'Nay, I can't consent to your deluding Lady Conway into Mrs. Walby.'
'If there be any one you wish me to ask, my dear Fitzjocelyn-' began Lady Conway.
'Oh no, thank you; Jem is quite right. I might have been playing on your unguarded innocence; but I am the worst person in the world to consult; for all the county and all the town are so kind to me, that I don't know whom I could leave out. Now, the Pendragon there will help you to the degree of gentility that may safely be set to consort together.'
'What an unkind fling!' thought Isabel.
Louis took leave, exclaiming to himself on the stairs, 'There! if comporting oneself like a donkey before the object be a token, I've done it efiectually. Didn't I know the exclusiveness of the woman? Yet, how could I help saying a word for the poor little Walbys? and, after all, if they were there, no one would speak to them but Aunt Kitty and I. And Isabel, I am sure she scorned the
fastidious nonsense; I saw it in her eye and lip.'
After a quarter of an hour spent in hearing her praises from Miss Faithfull, he betook himself to Mrs. Ponsonby's, not quite without embarrassment, for he had not been alone with the mother and daughter since August.
'I am glad you did not come before,' said Mary, heartily; 'I have just done:' and she returned to her writing-table, while her mother was saying,
'We like it very much.'
'You have not been copying that wretched concern!' exclaimed Louis. 'Why, Mary, you must have been at it all night. It is a week's work.'
'Copying is not composing,' said Mary.
'But you have mended it, made it consecutive! If I had guessed that my father meant to trouble any one with it!'
'If you take pains with it, it may be very valuable,' said Mrs. Ponsonby. 'We have marked a few things that you had better revise before it goes to Oakstead.'
'Goes to Oakstead!' said Louis, faintly.
'Your father talks of sending it, to see if Sir Miles does not think it might tell well in one of the Reviews.'
'I hope not. I should lose all my faith in anonymous criticism, if they admitted such a crude undergraduate's omnium gatherum! Besides, what an immense task to make it presentable!'
'Is that the root of your humility?'
'Possibly. But for very shame I must doctor it, if Mary has wasted so much time over it. It does not look so bad in your hand!'
'It struck me whether you had rendered this Spanish story right.'
'Of course not. I never stuck to my dictionary.'
A sound dose of criticism ensued, tempered by repetitions of his father's pleasure, and next came some sympathy and discussion about the farm and Marksedge, in which the ladies took their usual earnest part, and Mary was as happy as ever in hearing of his progress. He said no word of their neighbours; but he could not help colouring when Mary said, as he wished her good-bye, 'We like the party in the House Beautiful so much! Miss Conway is such an acquisition to me! and they are doing all you could ever have wished for Clara.'
Mary was glad that she had said it. Louis was not so glad. He thought it must have been an effort, then derided his vanity for the supposition.
CHAPTER XVI. THE FRUIT OF THE CHRISTMAS-TREE
Age, twine thy brows with fresh spring flowers, And call a train of laughing hours; And bid them dance, and bid them sing: And thou, too, mingle in the ring. WORDSWORTH
The 12th of January was the last day before James and Louis meant to return to Oxford, Jem taking Clara on from thence to school. It was to be the farewell to Christmas-one much enjoyed in Dynevor Terrace. Fitzjocelyn's absence was almost a relief to Clara; she could not make up her mind to see him till she could hope their last encounter had been forgotten; and in the mean time, her anticipations were fixed on the great 12th. She was aware of what the entertainment would consist, but was in honour bound to conceal her knowledge from Virginia and Louisa, who on their side affected great excitement and curiosity, and made every ostentation of guessing and peeping. Gifts were smuggled into the house from every quarter-some to take their chance, some directed with mottoes droll or affectionate. Clara prepared a few trifles, in which she showed that school had done something for her fingers, and committed her little parcels to her brother's care; and Miss Mercy was the happiest of all, continually knocking at the locked door of the back drawing-room with gilded fir cones, painted banners, or moss birds'-nests, from Miss Salome.
Miss King and Isabel had undertaken the main business. When roused from her pensive stillness, Isabel could be very eager, active, and animated; and she worked with the exhilaration that she could freely enjoy when unrestrained by perceiving that she was wanted to produce an effect. What woman's height and hand could not perform fell to the share of James, who, with his step-ladder and dexterous hands, was invaluable. Merrily, merrily did the three work, laughing over their suspended bonbons, their droll contrivances, or predicting the adaptations of their gifts; and more and more gay was the laugh, the tutor more piquant, the governess more keen and clever, the young lady more vivacious, as the twilight darkened, and the tree became more laden, and the streamers and glass balls produced a more brilliant effect.
Proudly, when the task was accomplished, did they contemplate their work, and predict the aspect of their tinsel and frippery when duly lighted up. Then, as they dispersed to dress, James ran home, and hastily tapped at his sister's door.
'What is the matter?' she cried. 'Have the tassels come off my purse?'
'Nothing of the kind, but-' he came quite in, and looked round restlessly, then hastily said, 'You gave me nothing for Miss Conway.'
'I wished it very much,' said Clara, 'but I could not bear to do anything trumpery for her. Oh, if one could give her anything worth having!'
'Clara, I had thought-but I did not know if you would like to part with it-'
'I had thought of it too,' said Clara; 'but I thought you would not like it to be given away.'
Pulling out a drawer, she opened an odd little box of queer curiosities, whence she took a case containing an exquisite ivory carving, a copy of the 'Madonna della Sedia,' so fine that a magnifier alone could fully reveal the delicacy and accuracy of the features and expression. It was mounted as a bracelet clasp, and was a remnant of poor Mr. Dynevor's treasures. It had been given to Mrs. Henry Frost, and had descended to her daughter.
'Should you be willing?' wistfully asked James.
'That I should! I have longed to give her what she would really care for. She has been so very kind-and her kindness is so very sweet in its graciousness! I shall always be the happier for the very thinking of it.'
'I am glad-' began Jem, warmly; but, breaking off, he added-'This would make us all more comfortable. It would lessen the weight of obligation, and that would be satisfactory to you.'
'I don't know. I like people to be so kind, that I can't feel as if I would pay them off, but as if I could do nothing but love them.'
'You did not imagine that I rate this as repayment!'
'Oh! no, no!'
'No! it is rather that nothing can be too precious-' then pausing- 'You are sure you are willing, Clary?'
'Only too glad. I like it to be something valuable to us as well as in itself. If I only had a bit of black velvet, I could set it up.'
In ten minutes, Jem had speeded to a shop and back again, and stood by as Clara stitched the clasp to the ribbon velvet; while there was an amicable dispute, he insisting that the envelope should bear only the initials of the true donor, and she maintaining that 'he gave the black velvet.' She had her way, and wrote, 'From her grateful C. F. D. and J. R. F. D.;' and as James took the little packet, he thanked her with an affectionate kiss-a thing so unprecedented at an irregular hour, that Clara's heart leapt up, and she felt rewarded for any semblance of sacrifice.
He told his grandmother that he had agreed with his sister that they could do no otherwise than present the ivory clasp; and Mrs. Frost, who had no specially tender associations with it, was satisfied to find that they had anything worth offering on equal terms.
She was to be of the party, and setting forth, they, found the House Beautiful upside down-even the Faithfull parlour devoted to shawls and bonnets, and the two good old sisters in the drawing-room; Miss Salome, under the protection of little Louisa, in an easy chair, opposite the folding doors. Small children were clustered in shy groups round their respective keepers. Lady Conway was receiving her guests with the smile so engaging at first sight, Isabel moving from one to the other with stately grace and courtesy, Virginia watching for Clara, and both becoming merged in a mass of white skirts and glossy heads, occupying a wide area. Mrs. Frost was rapturously surrounded by half-a-dozen young men, Sydney Calcott foremost, former pupils enchanted to see her, and keeping possession of her all the rest of the evening. She was a dangerous person to invite, for the Northwold youth had no eyes but for her.
The children were presently taken down to tea in the dining-
room by Miss King and Miss Mercy; and presently a chorus of little voices and peals of laughter broke out, confirming the fact, whispered by Delaford to his lady, that Lord Fitzjocelyn had arrived, and had joined the downstairs party.
While coffee went round in the drawing-room, Isabel glided out to perform the lighting process.
'Oh, Mr. Dynevor!' she exclaimed, finding him at her side, 'I did not mean to call you away.'
'Mere unreason to think of the performance alone,' said James, setting up his trusty ladder. 'What would become of that black lace?'
'Thank you, it may be safer and quicker.'
'So far the evening is most successful,' said Jem, lighting above as she lighted below.
'That it is! I like Northwold better than any place I have been in since I left Thornton Conway. There is so much more heartiness and friendliness here than in ordinary society.
'I think Fitzjocelyn's open sympathies have conduced-'
Isabel laughed, and he checked himself, disconcerted.
'I beg your pardon,' she said; 'I was amused at the force of habit. If I were to say the Terrace chimneys did not smoke, you would say it was Lord Fitzjocelyn's doing.'
'Do not bid me do otherwise than keep him in mind.'
Down fell the highest candle: the hot wax dropping on Isabel's arm caused her to exclaim, bringing Jem down in horror, crying, 'I have hurt you! you are burnt!'
'Oh no, only startled. There is no harm done, you see,' as she cracked away the cooled wax-'not even a mark to remind me of this happy Christmas.'
'And it has been a happy Christmas to you,' he said, remounting.
'Most happy. Nothing has been so peaceful or satisfactory in my wandering life.'
'Shall I find you here at Easter?'
'I fear not. Mamma likes to be in London early; but perhaps she may leave the school-room party here, as Louisa is gaining so much ground, and that would be a pledge of our return.'
'Too much joy,' said James, almost inaudibly.
'I hope Walter may spend his holidays here,' she pursued. 'It is a great thing for him to be with any one who can put a few right notions into his head.'
Dynevor Terrace (Vol. I) Page 25
