Dynevor Terrace (Vol. I)

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  Jem abstained from, as usual, proposing Fitzjocelyn for his example, but only said that Walter was very susceptible of good impressions.

  'And most heartily we thank you for all you have done for him,' said Isabel, doubting whether Walter's mother appreciated the full extent of it; 'indeed, we have all a great deal to thank you for. I hope my sisters and I may be the better all our lives for the helps and explanations you have given to us. Is that the last candle? How beautiful! We must open.'

  'Miss Conway-'

  'Yes'-she paused with her hand on the key.

  'No, no-do not wait,' taking the key himself. 'Yet-yes, I must-I must thank you for such words-'

  'My words?' said Isabel, smiling. 'For thanking you, or being happy here?'

  'Both! both! Those words will be my never-failing charm. You little guess how I shall live on the remembrance. Oh, if I could only convey to you what feelings you have excited-'

  The words broke from him as if beyond his control, and under the pressing need of not wasting the tapers, he instinctively unlocked the door as he spoke, and cut himself short by turning the handle, perhaps without knowing what he was about.

  Instantly Lady Conway and Miss King each pushed a folding leaf, Isabel and James drew back on either side, and the spectators beheld the tall glistening evergreen, illuminated with countless little spires of light, glancing out among the dark leaves, and reflected from the gilt fir-cones, glass balls, and brilliant toys.

  'Sister! sister!' cried Miss Mercy, standing by Miss Faithfull's chair, in the rear of the throng, and seizing her hand in ecstasy; 'it is like a dream! like what we have read of! Oh, the dear little children! So very kind of Lady Conway! Could you have imagined-?' She quite gasped.

  'It is very pretty, but it was a nicer Christmas-tree last year at Lady Runnymede's,' said Louisa, with the air of a critic. 'There we had coloured lamps.'

  'Little fastidious puss!' said Louis, 'I thought you keeping in the background out of politeness; but I see you are only blasee with Christmas-trees. I pity you! I could no more be critical at such a moment than I could analyse the jewels in Aladdin's cave.'

  'Oh, if you and Miss Faithfull talk, Cousin Fitzjocelyn, you will make it seem quite new.'

  'You will deride the freshness of our simplicity,' said Louis, but presently added, 'Miss Salome, have we not awakened to the enchanted land? Did ever mortal tree bear stars of living flame? Here are realized the fabled apples of gold-nay, the fir-cones of Nineveh, the jewel-fruits of Eastern story, depend from the same bough. Yonder lamps shine by fairy spell.'

  'Now, Cousin Fitzjocelyn, do you think I suppose you so silly-'

  'Soft! The Dryad of the Enchanted Bower advances. Her floating robes, her holly crown, beseem her queenly charms.'

  'As if you did not know that it is only Isabel!'

  'Only! May the word be forgiven to a sister! Isabel! The name is all-expressive.'

  'She is looking even more lovely than usual,' said Miss Faithfull. 'I never saw such a countenance.'

  'She has a colour to-night,' added Miss Mercy, 'which does, as you say, make her handsomer than ever. Dear! dear! I hope she is not tired. I am so sorry I did not help her to light the tree!'

  'I do not think it is fatigue,' said her sister. 'I hope it is animation and enjoyment-all I have ever thought wanting to that sweet face.'

  'You are as bad as my prosaic cousin,' said Louis, 'disenchanting the magic bower and the wood-nymph into fir, wax, and modern young ladyhood.'

  'There, cousin, it is you who have called her a modern young lady.'

  Before Louisa had expressed her indignation, there was a call for her.

  'The Sovereign of the Bower beckons,' said Louis. 'Favoured damsel, know how to deserve her smiles. Fairy gifts remain not with the unworthy.'

  As he put her forward, some one made way for her. It was Mary, and he blushed at perceiving that she must have heard all his rhodomontade. As if to make amends, he paused, and asked for Mrs. Ponsonby.

  'Much more comfortable to-night, thank you;' and the pleasant, honest look of her friendly eyes relieved him by not reproaching him.

  'I wish she were here. It is a prettier, more visionary sight than I could have conceived.'

  'I wish she could see it; but she feared the crowd. Many people in a room seem to stifle her. Is Lord Ormersfield here?'

  'No, it would not be his element. But imagine his having taken to walking with me! I really think he will miss me.'

  'Really?' said Mary, amused.

  'It is presumptuous; but he does not see well at night, and is not quite broken in to his spectacles. Mary, I hope you will walk over to see after him. Nothing would be so good for him as walking you back, and staying to dinner with you. Go right into the library; he would be greatly pleased. Can't you make some book excuse? And you have the cottages to see. The people inaugurated the boilers with Christmas puddings.'

  'Mr. Holdsworth told us how pleased they were. And the Norrises?'

  'Mrs. Norris is delighted; she has found a woman to wash, and says it will save her a maid. The people can get milk now: I assure you they look more wholesome already! And Beecher has actually asked for two more houses in emulation. And Richardson found himself turned over to me!'

  'Oh, that's right.'

  'I've been at the plans all the afternoon. I see how to contrive the fireplace in the back room, that we could not have in the first set, and make them cheaper, too. My father has really made a point of that old decrepit Hailes being moved from Marksedge; and Mary, he, and Richardson mean Inglewood to be made over to me for good. I am to put in a bailiff, and do as I can with it-have the profits or bear the losses. I think I have an idea-'

  In spite of her willingness to hear the idea, Mary could not help asking, 'Have you sent off the Police article?'

  'Hush, Mary; it is my prime object to have it well forgotten.'

  'Oh! did not Sir Miles like it?'

  'He said it wanted liveliness and anecdote. So the Santissima Hermandad, and all the extraneous history, were sent to him; and then he was well content, and only wanted me to leave out all the Christian chivalry-all I cared to say-'

  'You don't mean not to finish? Your father was so pleased, Isabel so much struck! It is a pity-'

  'No, no; you may forgive me, Mary-it is not pure laziness. It was mere rubbish, without the point, which was too strong for the two politicians; rubbish, any way. Don't tell me to go on with it; it was a mere trial, much better let it die away. I really have no time; if I don't mind my own business, I shall be a plucked gosling; and that would go to his, lordship's heart. Besides, I must get these plans done. Do you remember where we got the fire-bricks for the ovens?'

  Mary was answering, when Walter came bursting through the crowd. 'Where is he? Fitzjocelyn, it is your turn.'

  'Here is a curious specimen for our great naturalist,' said Mrs. Frost, a glow in her cheeks, and her voice all stifled mirth and mischief.

  It was a large nest of moss and horsehair, partly concealed under the lower branches, and containing two huge eggs streaked and spotted with azure and vermilion, and a purple and yellow feather, labelled, 'Dropped by the parent animal in her flight, on the discovery of the nest by the crew of H.M.S. Flying Dutchman. North Greenland, April 1st, 1847. Qu.? Female of Equus Pegasus. Respectfully dedicated to the Right Honourable Viscount Fitzjocelyn.'

  'A fine specimen,' said the Viscount at once, with the air of a connoisseur, by no means taken by surprise. 'They are not very uncommon; I found one myself about the same date in the justice-room. I dare say Mr. Calcott recollects the circumstance.'

  'Oh, my dear fellow,' exclaimed Sydney, instead of his father; 'you need not particularize. You always were a discoverer in that line.'

  'True,' said Louis, 'but this is unique. North Greenland-ah! I thought it was from a Frosty country. Ha, Clara?'

  'Not I; I know nothing of it,' cried Clara, in hurry and confusion, not yet able to be suspected of taking liberties with him.


  'No?' said Louis, turning about his acquisition; 'I thought I knew the female that laid these eggs. The proper name is, I fancy, Glacies Dynevorensis-var. Catharina-perhaps-'

  Walter and Louisa had brought their mother to see the nest, the point of which she comprehended as little as they; and not understanding how much amusement was betokened by her nephew's gravity, she protested that none of her party had devised it, nor even been privy to it, and that Mr. Dynevor must bear the blame, but he was very busy detaching the prizes from the tree, and hastily denied any concern with it. Aunt Catharine was obliged to console Lady Conway, and enchant Louis by owning herself the sole culprit, with no aid but Miss Mercy's. Together they had disposed the nest in its right locality, as soon as the Earl's absence was secure.

  'I had not courage for it before him,' she laughed. 'As for this fellow, I knew he would esteem it a compliment.'

  'As a tribute to his imagination?' said Isabel, who, in her mood of benevolence, could be struck with the happy understanding between aunt and nephew revealed by such a joke, so received.

  'It would be a curious research,' said Louis, 'whether more of these nidifications result from over-imagination or the want of it.'

  'Often from want of imagination, and no want of cowardice,' said Isabel.

  'That sort of nest has not illuminated eggs like these,' said Louis. 'They are generally extremely full of gunpowder, and might be painted with a skull and crossbones. I say, Clara, has Aunt Kitty considered the consequences? She has sacrificed her ostrich eggs! I can never part with these original productions of her genius.'

  He exhibited his mare's nest with his own gay bonhommie to all who were curious, and presently, when every one's attention had been again recalled to the wonders which Isabel was distributing, and he had turned aside to dispose of his treasure, he heard a sound of soliloquy half aloud, 'I wonder whether she has it!' from Clara, who stood a little apart.

  'What?' asked Louia.

  'My ivory clasp with the Madonna,' said Clara. 'Jem and I thought it the only thing worthy of Miss Conway.'

  'Hem!' said Louis; 'it is not your fault, Clara; but it would be graceful to learn to receive a favour.'

  'A favour, but not a grand thing like this,' said Clara, showing a beautiful little case of working implements.

  'Hardly worth, even intrinsically, your mother's bracelet,' said Louis. 'But I am not going to talk treason to the family doctrine, though it is very inconvenient to your friends.'

  'Then you think we ought not to have done it?'

  'That depends on what I can't decide.'

  'What's that?'

  'Whether you give it out of love or out of pride.'

  'I think we gave it out of one, and excused it by the other.'

  'Very satisfactory. To reward you, here is something for you to do. I shall never get at Aunt Kitty to-night. I see the midshipman, young Brewster, will not relinquish her; so will you or will she administer this letter to the Lady of Eachalott?'

  'You don't mean that is Tom Madison!' exclaimed Clara. 'Why, it is like copper-plate. No more Fitsgoslings!'

  'No, indeed! Is he not a clever fellow? He has just reached the stage of civilization that breaks out in dictionary words. I have been, in return, telling him the story of the Irish schoolmaster who puzzled the magistrate's bench by a petition about a small cornuted animal, meaning a kid. But I should think it would be very edifying to Charlotte to see herself commemorated as the individual at the Terrace, and his grandfather as his aged relative. He sends the old man ten shillings this time, for he is promoted. Don't you think I may be proud of him? Is Mary gone home? She must hear about him.'

  As he turned away in search of Mary, Clara felt a soft hand on her shoulder, and Isabel beckoned her to follow into the back drawing- room, where the tree was burnt out and deserted.

  'I may thank _you_,' said Isabel, in a low, sweet voice, pressing her hand.

  'And Jem,' said Clara; 'he thought of it first.'

  'It is the most beautiful Christmas gift; but I do not like for you to part with it, my dear.'

  'We both wished it, and grandmamma gave leave. We longed for you to have something we prized like this, for it belonged to my mamma. It is Jem's present too, for he went out and bought the black velvet.'

  'Clasp it on for me, dear Clara. There!' and Isabel kissed the fingers which obeyed. 'It shall never leave my arm.'

  Clara's face burnt with surprise and pleasure amounting to embarrassment, as Isabel expressed hopes of meeting again, and engaged her to write from school. She looked for her brother to take his share of thanks; but he was determinately doing his duty in cutting chicken and cake for those who desired supper, and he did not come in their way again till all the guests were gone, and good-night and good-bye were to be said at once.

  Lady Conway was warm in expressing her hopes that Walter would enjoy the same advantages another holidays, and told Mr. Dynevor she should write to him. But Jem made little answer, nothing like a promise. Clara thought he had become stiff from some unknown affront, perhaps some oppressive present, for he seemed to intend to include all the young ladies in one farewell bow. But Isabel advanced with outstretched hand and flushing cheek, and her murmured 'Thank you' and confiding pressure drew from him such a grasp as could not easily be forgotten.

  Clara's heart was all the lighter because she was sure that Fitzjocelyn had forgiven, and, what was more, forgotten. She had spoken naturally to him once more, and was ready for anything now- even though they had missed all confidential discussions upon school.

  She gave Charlotte Tom Madison's letter. The little maiden took it, and twirled it about rather superciliously. 'What business had my young Lord,' she thought, 'to fancy she cared for that poor fellow? Very likely he was improved, and she was glad of it, but she knew what was genteel now. Yes, she would read it at once; there was no fear that it would make her soft and foolish-she had got above that!'

  CHAPTER XVII. THE RIVALS.

  'Which king, Bezonian?'-Henry IV.

  Sir Roland of Provence remained in suspense whether to be a novice or an irrevocably pledged Hospitalier. The latter was most probable; and when Adeline's feelings had been minutely analysed, Miss Conway discovered that she had better not show her morning's work to her sisters.

  Clara and Louis pronounced Jem to be as savage as a bear all through the journey. Clara declared it was revenge for having been civil and amiable all through the vacation; and Louis uttered a theatrical aside, that even _that_ could not have been maintained if he had not occasionally come to Ormersfield to relieve himself a little upon their two lordships.

  Laugh as he might, Fitzjocelyn was much concerned and perplexed by his cousin's ill-humour, when it appeared more permanent than could be puffed off in a few ebullitions. Attempts to penetrate the gloom made it heavier, and Louis resolved to give it time to subside. He waited some days before going near James, and when he next walked to his college found him engaged with pupils. He was himself very busy, and had missed his cousin several times before he at length found him alone.

  'Why, Jem, old fellow, what are you about? You've not been near my rooms this term. Are you renouncing me in anticipation of my plucking?'

  'You won't be plucked unless you go out of your senses for the occasion.'

  'No thanks to your advice and assistance if I am not. But it would conduce to my equanimity, Jem, to know whether we are quarrelling, as in that case I should know how to demean myself.'

  'I've no quarrel with you. You have far more reason-But,' added Jem, catching himself up, 'don't you know I have no leisure for trifling? The Ordination is the second week in March.'

  'The Ordination!'

  'Ay-you know it! My fellowship depends on it.'

  'I never liked to contemplate it.' He sat down and mused, while James continued his occupation. Presently he said, 'Look here. Sir Miles Oakstead asked me if I had any clever Oxford friend to recommend. If he comes into office, he-'

  'I'll be no gre
at man's hanger-on.'

  'This matter is not imminent. You are barely four-and-twenty. Wait a year or two; even a few months would-'

  'You have tried my forbearance often enough,' broke in James; 'my object is-as you very well know-to maintain myself and mine without being liable to obnoxious patronage. If you think I should disgrace the office, speak out!'

  Louis, without raising his eyes, only answered with a smile.

  'Then, what do you mean? As to your notions of a vocation, ninety- nine out of a hundred are in my case. I have been bred up to this- nothing else is open-I mean to do my duty; and surely that is vocation-no one has a right to object-'

  'No one; I beg your pardon,' meekly said Louis, taking up his stick to go; but both knew it was only a feint, and James, whose vehemence was exhausting itself, resumed, in an injured tone, 'What disturbs you? what is this scruple of yours!-you, who sometimes fancy you would have been a curate yourself!'

  'I have just inclination enough to be able to perceive that you have none.'

  'And is every one to follow his bent?'

  'This is not a step to be taken against the grain, even for the best earthly motives. Jem! I only beg you to ask advice. For the very reason that you are irreproachable, you will never have it offered.'

  'The present time, for instance?' said James, laughing as best he might.

  'That is nothing. I have no faith in my own judgment, but, thinking as I do of the profession and of you, I cannot help believing that my distaste for seeing you in it must be an instinct.'

  'Give me your true opinion and its grounds candidly, knowing that I would not ask another man living.'

  'Nor me, if I did not thrust it on you.'

  'Now for it! Let us hear your objection.'

  'Simply this. I do not see that anything impels you to take Holy Orders immediately, except your wish to be independent, and irrevocably fixed before your uncle can come home. This seems to me to have a savour of something inconsistent with what you profess. It might be fine anywhere else, but will it not bear being brought into the light of the sanctuary? No, I cannot like it. I have no doubt many go up for ordination far less fit than you, but-Jem, I wish you would not. If you would but wait a year!'