Collected Works of Frances Trollope

by Frances Milton Trollope

  Yes!... They were diamonds! diamonds rich and rare, that seemed to look up sparkling into her eyes, and cry, “Behold us!” Had Sophia been of a caressing temper she certainly would have kissed them; but as she was not, she drew them slowly and sedately from their cotton bed, and weighed them in her calculating grasp.

  Most people, if they set to thinking about it, can say what moment, through the years that they have passed, was the happiest they have known. Some will declare that it was when they first learned to know, how sweet was that love which meets return. But not so, Sophia. If she answered truly to such a challenge, she must avow to the latest hour of her existence, that it was the gratification of a tender passion which could meet no return, that caused her the most delicious sensations she had ever known. She did not expect her diamonds to love her; it was enough for her if they returned bright flashes to her eager gaze.... and this they did. Again and again she changed their position as the light fell on them, and again and again they sent off new showers of rainbow light to bless her eyes. Never before had she been so nearly overpowered by emotion. She experienced a sort of ecstasy that almost made her giddy, and she was actually obliged to sit down in order tore-cover herself.

  But Sophia had great strength of mind; and this first overpowering rush of feeling past, she did not again lose her self-command. After pressing for a minute or two her hands upon her heart, as if to still its too rapid pulsations, she arose with recovered calmness, replaced the new-found treasure in the honoured shrine Wherein she had found it, slowly, carefully, and surely relocked the cabinet, and drawing à long luxurious breath that spoke in eloquent silence of happiness assured and tremors sunk to rest, she unlocked her door, looked at the recovered calmness of her steady features in the glass, and rang the bell for her maid, that she might change her dress for dinner.

  When, a few moments before the dinner was announced, she as usual joined her guests in the east parlour, no feeling of weakness caused her to betray that her mind was in any degree in a different state from that it had been When they met at breakfast. If anything, there might perhaps have been a shade of deeper gravity than usual upon her small features, but, on the whole, there was nothing to excite attention. As was usual with her now, her appetite seemed altogether to have left her, but she made no complaint of indisposition, and when Major Heathcote observed upon her not having so good an appetite as formerly, she quietly replied, “I have taken a little luncheon this morning, and I think that very often does spoil the appetite.”

  It was the custom of Miss Martin Thorpe to take the nice cup of coffee that she loved so well, in the calm retirement of her own boudoir, and to remain there, afterwards, during pretty nearly the whole evening. But on this day she managed differently. She went up stairs indeed, as usual, upon leaving the dining-room, but remained only long enough to swallow her coffee, and then returned to the family party assembled in the east parlour.... No coffee ever made its appearance there.... Miss Martin Thorpe remembered that it had not been the daily custom to have it at Bamboo Cottage, and, therefore, very considerately took this favourite beverage, to which she had now accustomed herself, alone, that her doing so might not in any troublesome manner interfere with their habits.

  The Heathcote family looked a little startled at her sudden reappearance among them, and Florence broke off in the very middle of a fairy tale which she was repealing for about the hundredth time, with Frederic standing at her knees and Stephen perched upon them. On the appearance of her cousin she judiciously led them both out of the room, and finished the dearly beloved story in the presence of the good Mrs. Barnes, and seated in her parlour.

  Nothing could be more favourable to the object for which Miss Martin Thorpe had quitted her favourite boudoir than this retreat of Florence, for it was her purpose now to mention to her guardian and his lady her intention of making her first appearance in a Herefordshire ball-room the following week; to request their attendance on the occasion; and to state her opinion of the absurdity of permitting a girl so young as Florence to accompany them.

  “A ball!” exclaimed Mrs. Heathcote, in a tone that seemed to testify that the balls, formerly so much enjoyed, had not quite faded from her recollection. “Dear me! I am sure I never thought of such a thing. And how far is it off, my dear?.... Will it be a long drive?”

  “Not very long, ma’am. County families, at a much greater distance, attend the Hereford balls constantly.”

  “Well.... I am sure I have no objection, and indeed I think it is quite right and proper that you should enjoy yourself. Don’t you think so, Major?”

  “Oh yes, certainly. There can be no possible objection to Sophia’s going to the county balls if she likes it. I only wish that we some of us knew a few of the gentlemen. I am afraid it will be rather awkward at first, about getting partners. For in her situation, so young as she is, and just come into such a fine property, she must not dance with anybody that may chance to ask her. Indeed I should not quite like that my Florence should do that.”

  “As to partners, Major Heathcote,” said the young lady, “I do not think that there will be any difficulty in my obtaining such as will be proper for me. I shall not wish, on this occasion, at least, to dance with any but gentlemen connected with the old established families of the county. But as to my cousin Florence... do you not think that she is much too young to go?”

  “Why, I don’t think it would do her any harm. What do you say, Poppsy?”

  “Harm?.... what harm should it do her?.... I am sure, Sir...” Here Mrs. Heathcote fortunately stopped short — another word would have plunged her into very considerable difficulties, for there was nothing that the young Florence seemed to dread so much as that Miss Martin Thorpe should discover her engagement with Sir Charles Temple. Why she dreaded this so much she might herself, perhaps, have found it difficult to explain.... perhaps it was that, conscious of being more sensitive on that point to “the touch of joy or woe,” than on any other, she did not feel disposed to risk the “trembling” which might be likely to ensue, did she permit that tender point to come in contact with the not very gentle handling which her cousin was apt to bestow on most things. —

  Major Heathcote laughed aside at the false step which his lady’s tongue had so nearly made, and at the sudden halt by which she bad saved herself; but feeling that she required a little help to recover herself completely, he very cleverly said, “Sir?.... do not call me sir, Poppsy, it sounds so like being angry with me. Besides, my dear, I don’t mean to say that I have the least objection to Florence’s having this pleasure if she wishes for it — none in the world.”

  His wife gave him a very grateful sort of smile, and said no more.

  “And do you really think it proper that so very young a person as my cousin Florence should go to this ball?” said Miss Martin Thorpe, with a degree of gravity which made her look almost solemn.

  “Yes, indeed, I do think it particularly proper,” replied Mrs. Heathcote, stoutly; “and I certainly shall not go without taking her.”

  Sophia very rarely did anything without thinking what its consequence might be; and now it appeared evident to her that the consequence of any further opposition, on her part, to letting Florence be one of her party to the ball would be disagreeable, for which reason she let the subject drop.

  A ball in the country is a great event for all ladies; it was so to Mrs. Heathcote, and her half-frightened young step-daughter; but we must leave them by themselves to their consultations in the banqueting-room, and in Flora’s room with the friendly housekeeper, while we follow Sophia, the real heroine of our tale, through some of the intricate preliminary measures, preceding the important evening. —

  On the morning following that on which the diamonds were discovered, Mr and Miss Brandenberry made their quiet way to the boudoir at rather an earlier hour than usual. Sophia, however, was already expecting them, and rather anxiously; for, in the first place, she was quite aware that they must have perceived something vague and un
satisfactory in her manner of receiving what had been said respecting the jewels; and, in the second place, she was also aware that she had treated the rapidly increasing tenderness of Mr. Brandenberry with much more harshness than was in her opinion at all necessary. Marrying Mr. Brandenberry, who had neither money nor land, worth speaking of, to add to her own... who had no title — and no magnificent old mansion, like Temple, to reward her generosity, in case she ever did decide upon trusting her happiness in the power of the tightest settlement that ever bound a woman’s own fortune to a woman’s own self... marrying Mr. Brandenberry was one thing — but permitting him to devote himself to her for a year or two of doubtful hope, was another.

  Of the first, which she would have considered as an act of unmitigated insanity, she, of course, never thought for an instant; but of the last, she did think a good deal. In a quiet way, it certainly rather amused her to hear him say, and to see him do, so many lover-like things, such as she had read of in some of her romantic mamma’s books, She really did not dislike it at all: she had never had any love made to her before; and she saw no objection whatever to a person who was sure of having a great many offers of marriage, permitting the first gentleman who had happened really to fall in love with her, to let her see a little of the manner in which such genuine passion showed itself. It could not make the matter at all worse for poor Mr. Brandenberry, and would certainly be rather advantageous than otherwise for her, Under impressions such as these, she gave a very kind reception both to the brother and sister; and though she was rather a novice in the art of looking tender, she did her best to look, at any rate, exceedingly gentle. Mr. Brandenberry was not a man to overlook a crescendo movement of this nature; nor was his sister either at all likely to overlook it, and gratefully did both the one and the other Mess, admire, and praise every word she uttered, every smile she smiled, and every look she looked. The harmony that reigned amongst them was ineffable.

  Having mutually enjoyed this state of things for some time, without anything of very essential importance having been said by any one, Miss Martin Thorpe referred to the conversation of the day before, by saying, with rather less equality of cold composure than usually marked her manner of speaking, “Do you recollect, Miss Brandenberry, what I said yesterday about the old-fashioned setting of diamonds?”

  “Do I?... Oh yes!... do you ever say anything in the presence of Richard and myself, that we either of us ever forget?”

  “Well, then, if you remember it so well, I am afraid you will think me very changeable and capricious, when I tell you I have altered my mind. I have been looking over my diamonds, and I really think that, considering how difficult it is to make a black dress look smart, the best thing I can do will be to wear some of them.”

  “How delighted I am to hear you say so!” replied her enthusiastic friend. “Richard and I have been talking all the morning about the effect of diamonds when placed in hair that curls naturally. Richard says that every diamond so placed, becomes worth two.... and he says, too... But, oh! goodness gracious! how angry he looks! only just look at him, Miss Martin Thorpe — that’s all!.... Never fear, Richard.... I love you a great deal too well to betray any secret of yours, though I am but a thoughtless girl, and do rattle away sometimes rather faster than I ought to do, perhaps. But we must leave off talking in this way, or he will certainly run out of the room. Tell me, then, dearest Miss Martin Thorpe, in what manner were you thinking to wear your beautiful diamonds? mamma says, she well remembers them, every one, and that they are perfectly superb.”

  “I hardly know in what manner it will be best to use them,” replied Sophia; “but if Mr. Brandenberry will excuse our going away from him, I would ask you to be so kind as to go with me into the next room, where I have locked them all up in a drawer, and when you see them I dare say you will be able to give me some advice.”

  “Come, then, dearest Miss Martin Thorpe! I perfectly long to see them — and I know Richard will have enough to think of, if he is left in this room — for Richard and I often say to one another, if we happen to be shown in here when you are somewhere else, that the very looking at the things is almost like the happiness of talking to you. — It is all so beautiful and elegant, and so exactly like yourself.”

  Miss Martin Thorpe then led the way to her sleeping apartment, followed by her delighted friend; the drawer was opened, and certainly displayed some very good diamonds set in a variety of forms for the hair, shoulders, breast, and so forth, together with necklace, bracelets, and earrings, none of them in the newest taste, but all more or less elegant, and in perfectly good order.

  “Oh goodness! what beautiful jewels!” exclaimed Miss Brandenberry, her projecting eyes looking as if they were ready to start from her head, and complete the collection. “Think how you will look with all these about you! — all, all, all! I would not have you leave out a single one of them. You have no idea, my dear Miss Martin Thorpe, what an immense effect this will produce upon a first appearance. Our county is rather particular about jewels. I have always heard my mother say that nobody was considered quite tip-top who had not got diamonds. So of course you will not spoil the first impression by leaving any of them at home?”

  “If I wear any of them,” said Sophia with an air of indifference, “I may as well wear all. There will be no more trouble in it.” And as she spoke she began handling the different articles, as if to examine their clasps and pins.

  “Let me dress you in them!’ cried Miss Brandenberry, fervently. “Oh, do! do! — I know so well how they ought to look! Though I am not a great many years older than you, I have been at a great many more county balls, you know! Will you sit down and let me dress you?” —

  “You may do what you like, my dear Miss Brandenberry. If it will amuse you, I will sit down while you put them on, as you think they ought to be worn. Only I am afraid your brother will think that I am very rude to leave him for so long.”

  “Never mind my brother, dear Miss Martin Thorpe,” said the delighted Margaret, drawing off her gloves, and seizing a comb from the toilet table. “He is not likely to think anything that you do, very wrong, poor fellow.... There, just sit so, for half a moment. Oh! these beautiful short stiff natural curls are made on purpose for diamonds; how they do set it off, to be sure!... But we must have a band of black velvet, or something of that sort to keep them steady. Have you got anything of the kind?”

  “I dare say I have,” replied the heiress: “but my maid will know better than I; shall I ring for her?”

  “No, no, no, not for the world!... That would spoil all my pleasure, for of course she would fancy that nobody must touch them but herself.... Just let me look here, may I?” and without waiting for an answer the graceful handmaiden pulled out drawer after drawer of the careful heiress’s neatly arranged stores, till at length she discovered a thick waist-belt of black ribbon, and bound it round and round Miss Martin Thorpe’s little bullet head. Upon this foundation, which she declared to be most satisfactorily firm and substantial, Miss Brandenberry deposited exactly as many of the various sized, and various shaped ornaments as she could manage to fasten on, and completed the labour of love, by placing, as well as the nature of a morning dress would permit, the necklace’ and bracelets where they ought to be. But at this stage of the business a terrible embarrassment presented itself. Miss Martin Thorpe had never had her ears bored, and there lay the long glittering appendages, as ingeniously expansive, as if they had been fabricated by that boldest of all trinket-fanciers, a North American Indian — there they lay, the last-left tenants of the satin case, with no possibility of their being appended to the thick tips of the vexed Sophia’s ears.

  A moment or two was lost in the expression of useless regrets by Miss Brandenberry, when suddenly her countenance cleared up, and she joyously exclaimed, “I know what we will do! I will just: get a needle, and a bit of black sewing-silk, and tack them upon the band, so as to make them hang down as close to the ears as possible. Nobody in the world will ever be ab
le to find it out.” — The implements required being near at hand, no time was lost in putting this last and most skilful touch to the immovable heiress’? head-dress; and then, Miss Brandenberry clapped her hands, and’ almost shouted in approbation of her own taste and skill, and of the exquisitely becoming effect they had produced.

  “You must let Richard see you!.... Poor fellow! You must indeed! It would be too, too cruel to refuse him! If you could but only guess how you look!.... I never did, no, never in my life, see anything to be compared to the becomingness of that headdress, just as it is now! Come to the glass, and look at yourself, my dear, dear, Miss Martin Thorpe, and then you can judge for yourself.”

  Miss Martin Thorpe cautiously rose, as if fearful that, at every step she made, a jewel might be lost; and, placing herself before the looking-glass, most certainly agreed with her delighted friend, and even confessed that she did think diamonds made a beautiful head-dress. The earrings, too, appeared to her most exquisitely elegant and well-placed, for the thoughtful Margaret, with a little fond, caressing touch, held the head of her friend in such straight and immovable equilibrium before the glass, that the sewing-silk loops by which they were suspended were quite invisible.

  “Now then, let us just step in, for one moment, to poor, dear Richard!” said the fond sister, opening the door of communication. Sophia said a word or two about its being rather foolish to do that, but she made no positive resistance, so, in the next moment, Mr. Brandenberry was basking in the blase of luminaries which he admired with quite as much devotion as the demure-looking owner of them herself.

  “Now, Richard! Tell me honestly and sincerely what you think of that?” said Miss Brandenberry, crossing her arms before her and drawing herself up, as if preparing to watch the effect she knew must follow.