CHAPTER XI. A FESTIVAL AND A PARTING
My grandfather and I were seated at table together. It was early June,the birds were singing in the garden, and the sweet odours of theflowers were wafted into the room.
"Richard," says he, when Scipio had poured his claret, "my illnesscheated you out of your festival last year. I dare swear you deemyourself too old for birthdays now."
I laughed.
"So it is with lads," said Mr. Carvel; "they will rush into manhood asheedless as you please. Take my counsel, boy, and remain young. Do notcross the bridge before you have to. And I have been thinking that weshall have your fete this year, albeit you are grown, and Miss Dolly isthe belle of the province. 'Tis like sunshine into my old heart to seethe lads and lasses again, and to hear the merry, merry fiddling. I willhave his new Excellency, who seems a good and a kindly man, and Lloydand Tilghman and Dulany and the rest, with their ladies, to sit with me.And there will be plenty of punch and syllabub and sangaree, I warrant;and tarts and jellies and custards, too, for the misses. Ring for Mrs.Willis, my son."
Willis came with her curtsey to the old gentleman, who gave his orderthen and there. He never waited for a fancy of this kind to grow cold.
"We shall all be children again, on that day, Mrs. Willis," says he."And I catch any old people about, they shall be thrust straight in thetown stocks, i' faith."
Willis made another curtsey.
"We missed it sorely, last year, please your honour," says she, anddeparts smiling.
"And you shall have your Patty Swain, Richard," Mr. Carvel continued."Do you mind how you once asked the favour of inviting her in the placeof a present? Oons! I loved you for that, boy. 'Twas like a Carvel.And I love that lass, Whig or no Whig. 'Pon my soul, I do. She hathdemureness and dignity, and suits me better than yon whimsical baggageyou are all mad over. I'll have Mr. Swain beside me, too. I'll warrantI'd teach his daughter loyalty in a day, and I had again your years andyour spirit!"
I have but to close my eyes, and my fancy takes me back to that birthdayfestival. Think of it, my dears! Near threescore years are gonesince then, when this old man you call grandfather, and some--blessme!--great-grandfather, was a lusty lad like Comyn here. But his hand issteady as he writes these words and his head clear, because he hath notgreatly disabused that life which God has given him.
How can I, tho' her face and form are painted on my memory, tell youwhat fair, pert Miss Dorothy was at that time'! Ay, I know what youwould say: that Sir Joshua's portrait hangs above, executed but the yearafter, and hung at the second exhibition of the Royal Academy. As I lookupon it now, I say that no whit of its colour is overcharged. And thereis likewise Mr. Peale's portrait, done much later. I answer that thesegreat masters have accomplished what poor, human art can do. But Naturehath given us a better picture. "Come hither, Bess! Yes, truly, you haveDolly's hair, with the very gloss upon it. But fashions have changed,my child, and that is not as Dolly wore it." Whereupon Bess goes to theportrait, and presently comes back to give me a start. And then we gohand in hand up the stairs of Calvert House even to the garret, where anold cedar chest is laid away under the eaves. Bess, the minx, well knowsit, and takes out a prim little gown with the white fading yellow, andwhite silk mits without fingers, and white stockings with clocks, anda gauze cap, with wings and streamers, that sits saucily on the blacklocks; and the lawn-embroidered apron; and such dainty, high-heeledslippers with the pearls still a-glisten upon the buckles. Away sheflies to put them on. And then my heart gives a leap to see my Dorothyback again,--back again as she was that June afternoon we went togetherto my last birthday party, her girlish arms bare to the elbow, and thelace about her slender throat. Yes, Bess hath the very tilt of her chin,the regal grace of that slim figure, and the deep blue eyes.
"Grandfather, dear, you are crushing the gown!"
And so the fire is not yet gone out of this old frame.
Ah, yes, there they are again, those unpaved streets of old Annapolisarched with great trees on either side. And here is Dolly, holding herskirt in one hand and her fan in the other, and I in a brave blue coat,and pumps with gold buttons, and a cocked hat of the newest fashion. Ihad met her leaning over the gate in Prince George Street. And, whatwas strange for her, so deep in thought that she jumped when I spoke hername.
"Dorothy, I have come for you to walk to the party, as we used when wewere children."
"As we used when we were children!" cried she. And flinging wide thegate, stretched out her hand for me to take. "And you are eighteen yearsto-day! It seems but last year when we skipped hand in hand to Marlboro'Street with Mammy Lucy behind us. Are you coming, mammy?" she called.
"Yes, mistis, I'se comin'," said a voice from behind the golden-rosebushes, and out stepped Aunt Lucy in a new turban, making a curtsey tome. "La, Marse Richard!" said she, "to think you'se growed to be afine gemman! 'Taint but t'other day you was kissin' Miss Dolly on deplantation."
"It seems longer than that to me, Aunt Lucy," I answered, laughing atDolly's blushes.
"You have too good a memory, mammy," said my lady, withdrawing herfingers from mine.
"Bress you, honey! De ole woman doan't forgit some things."
And she fell back to a respectful six paces.
"Those were happy times," said Dorothy. Then the little sigh became alaugh. "I mean to enjoy myself to-day, Richard. But I fear I shall notsee as much of you as I used. You are old enough to play the host, now."
"You shall see as much as you will."
"Where have you been of late, sir? In Gloucester Street?"
"'Tis your own fault, Dolly. You are changeable as the sky,--to-daysunny, and to-morrow cold. I am sure of my welcome in GloucesterStreet."
She tripped a step as we turned the corner, and came closer to my side.
"You must learn to take me as you find me, dear Richard. To-day I am ina holiday humour."
Some odd note in her tone troubled me, and I glanced at her quickly. Shewas a constant wonder and puzzle to me. After that night at the theatremy hopes had risen for the hundredth time, but I had gone to PrinceGeorge Street on the morrow to meet another rebuff--and Fitzhugh. So Ihad learned to interpret her by other means than words, and now her moodseemed reckless rather than merry.
"Are you not happy, Dolly?" I asked abruptly.
She laughed. "What a silly question!" she said. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I believe you are not."
In surprise she looked up at me, and then down at the pearls upon hersatin slippers.
"I am going with you to your birthday festival, Richard. Could we wishfor more? I am as happy as you."
"That may well be, for I might be happier."
Again her eyes met mine, and she hummed an air. So we came to the gate,beside which stood Diomedes and Hugo in the family claret-red. A coachwas drawn up, and another behind it, and we went down the leafy walk inthe midst of a bevy of guests.
We have no such places nowadays, my dears, as was my grandfather's. Theground between the street and the brick wall in the rear was a greatstretch, as ample in acreage as many a small country-place we have inthese times. The house was on the high land in front, hedged in by oldtrees, and thence you descended by stately tiers until you came to thelevel which held the dancers. Beyond that, and lower still, alilied pond widened out of the sluggish brook with a cool and rusticspring-house at one end. The spring-house was thatched, with windowslooking out upon the water. Long after, when I went to France, I wasreminded of the shy beauty of this part of my old home by the secludedpond of the Little Trianon. So was it that King Louis's Versailles hadspread its influence a thousand leagues to our youthful continent.
My grandfather sat in his great chair on the sward beside the fiddlers,his old friends gathering around him, as in former years.
"And this is the miss that hath already broken half the bachelor heartsin town!" said he, gayly. "What was my prediction, Miss Dolly, when youstepped your first dance at Carvel Hall?"
"Indeed, y
ou do me wrong, Mr. Carvel!"
"And I were a buck, you would not break mine, I warrant, unless it weretit for tat," said my grandfather; thereby putting me to more confusionthan Dolly, who laughed with the rest.
"'Tis well to boast, Mr. Carvel, when we are out of the battle," criedMr. Lloyd.
Dolly was carried off immediately, as I expected. The doctor andWorthington and Fitzhugh were already there, and waiting. I stood by Mr.Carvel's chair, receiving the guests, and presently came Mr. Swain andPatty.
"Heigho!" called Mr. Carvel, when he saw her; "here is the young ladythat hath my old affections. You are right welcome, Mr. Swain. Scipio,another chair! 'Tis not over the wall any more, Miss Patty, with ourflowered India silk. But I vow I love you best with your etui."
Patty, too, was carried off, for you may be sure that Will Fotheringayand Singleton were standing on one foot and then the other, waiting forMr. Carvel to have done. Next arrived my aunt, in a wide calash and awider hoop, her stays laced so that she limped, and her hair wonderfullyand fearfully arranged by her Frenchman. Neither she nor Grafton wasslow to shower congratulations upon my grandfather and myself. Mr.Marmaduke went through the ceremony after them. Dorothy's mother drew measide. As long as I could remember her face had been one that revealed alife's disappointment. But to-day I thought it bore a trace of a deeperanxiety.
"How well I recall this day, eighteen years ago, Richard," she said."And how proud your dear mother was that she had given a son to CaptainJack. She had prayed for a son. I hope you will always do your parentscredit, my dear boy. They were both dear, dear friends of mine."
My Aunt Caroline's harsher voice interrupted her.
"Gadzooks, ma'am!" she cried, as she approached us, "I have never inmy life laid eyes upon such beauty as your daughter's. You will have totake her home, Mrs. Manners, to do her justice. You owe it her, ma'am.Come, nephew, off with you, and head the minuet with Miss Dolly!"
My grandfather was giving the word to the fiddlers. But whether a desireto cross my aunt held me back, or a sense of duty to greet the guestsnot already come, or a vague intuition of some impending news drawn fromMrs. Manners and Dorothy, I know not. Mr. Fitzhugh was easily persuadedto take my place, and presently I slipped unnoticed into a shadedseat on the side of the upper terrace, whence I could see the changingfigures on the green. And I thought of the birthday festivals Dolly andI had spent here, almost since we were of an age to walk. Wet June days,when the broad wings of the house rang with the sound of silver laughterand pattering feet, and echoed with music from the hall; and merryJune days, when the laughter rippled among the lilacs, and pansies andpoppies and sweet peas were outshone by bright gowns and brighter faces.And then, as if to complete the picture of the past, my eye fell uponour mammies modestly seated behind the group of older people, AuntHester and Aunt Lucy, their honest, black faces aglow with suchunselfish enjoyment as they alone could feel.
How easily I marked Dorothy among the throng!
Other girls found it hard to compress the spirits of youth within thedignity of a minuet, and thought of the childish romp of former years.Not so my lady. Long afterwards I saw her lead a ball with the firstsoldier and gentleman of the land, but on that Tuesday she carriedherself full as well, so well that his Excellency and the gentlemenabout him applauded heartily. As the strains died away and the couplesmoved off among the privet-lined paths, I went slowly down the terrace.Dorothy had come up to speak to her mother, Dr. Courtenay lingeringimpatient at her side. And though her colour glowed deeper, and the windhad loosed a wisp of her hair, she took his Excellency's complimentsundisturbed. Colonel Sharpe, our former governor, who now made his homein the province, sat beside him.
"Now where a-deuce were you, Richard?" said he. "You have missed aspleasing a sight as comes to a man in a lifetime. Why were you not hereto see Miss Manners tread a minuet? My word! Terpsichore herself couldscarce have made it go better."
"I saw the dance, sir, from a safe distance," I replied.
"I'll warrant!" said he, laughing, while Dolly shot me a wayward glancefrom under her long lashes. "I'll warrant your eyes were fast on herfrom beginning to end. Come, sir, confess!"
His big frame shook with the fun of it, for none in the colony couldbe jollier than he on holiday occasions: and the group of ladies andgentlemen beside him caught the infection, so that I was sore put to it.
"Will your Excellency confess likewise?" I demanded.
"So I will, Richard, and make patent to all the world that she hath theremains of that shuttlecock, my heart."
Up gets his Excellency (for so we still called him) and makes Dolly alow reverence, kissing the tips of her white fingers. My lady drops amock curtsey in return.
"Your Excellency can do no less than sue for a dance," drawled Dr.Courtenay.
"And no more, I fear, sir, not being so nimble as I once was. I resignin your favour, doctor," said Colonel Sharpe.
Dr. Courtenay made his bow, his hat tucked under his arm. But he hadmuch to learn of Miss Manners if he thought that even one who had beengovernor of the province could command her. The music was just begunagain, and I making off in the direction of Patty Swain, when I wasbrought up as suddenly as by a rope. A curl was upon Dorothy's lips.
"The dance belongs to Richard, doctor," she said.
"Egad, Courtenay, there you have a buffer!" cried Colonel Sharpe, asthe much-discomfited doctor bowed with a very ill grace; while I, in nosmall bewilderment, walked off with Dorothy. And a parting shot of thedelighted colonel brought the crimson to my face. Like the wind or Aprilweather was my lady, and her ways far beyond such a great simpleton asI.
"So I am ever forced to ask you to dance!" said Dolly.
"What were you about, moping off alone, with a party in your honour,sir?"
"I was watching you, as I told his Excellency."
"Oh, fie!" she cried. "Why don't you assert yourself, Richard? There wasa time when you gave me no peace."
"And then you rebuked me for dangling," I retorted.
Up started the music, the fiddlers bending over their bows with flushedfaces, having dipped into the cool punch in the interval. Away flungmy lady to meet Singleton, while I swung Patty, who squeezed my hand inreturn. And soon we were in the heat of it,--sober minuet no longer, butromp and riot, the screams of the lasses a-mingle with our own laughter,as we spun them until they were dizzy. My brain was a-whirl as well, andpresently I awoke to find Dolly pinching my arm.
"Have you forgotten me, Richard?" she whispered. "My other hand, sir. Itis I down the middle."
Down we flew between the laughing lines, Dolly tripping with her headhigh, and then back under the clasped hands in the midst of a fireof raillery. Then the music stopped. Some strange exhilaration was inDorothy.
"Do you remember the place where I used to play fairy godmother, andwind the flowers into my hair?" said she.
What need to ask?
"Come!" she commanded decisively.
"With all my heart!" I exclaimed, wondering at this new caprice.
"If we can but slip away unnoticed, they will never find us there," shesaid. And led the way herself, silent. At length we came to the dampshade where the brook dived under the corner of the wall. I stooped togather the lilies of the valley, and she wove them into her hair as ofold. Suddenly she stopped, the bunch poised in her hand.
"Would you miss me if I went away, Richard?" she asked, in a low voice.
"What do you mean, Dolly?" I cried, my voice failing. "Just that," saidshe.
"I would miss you, and sorely, tho' you give me trouble enough."
"Soon I shall not be here to trouble you, Richard. Papa has decided thatwe sail next week, on the Annapolis, for home."
"Home!" I gasped. "England?"
"I am going to make my bow to royalty," replied she, dropping a deepcurtsey. "Your Majesty, this is Miss Manners, of the province ofMaryland!"
"But next week!" I repeated, with a blank face. "Surely you cannot beready for the Annapolis!"
/> "McAndrews has instructions to send our things after," said she. "There!You are the first person I have told. You should feel honoured, sir."
I sat down upon the grass by the brook, and for the moment the sapof life seemed to have left me. Dolly continued to twine the flowers.Through the trees sifted the voices and the music, sounds of happinessfar away. When I looked up again, she was gazing into the water.
"Are you glad to go?" I asked.
"Of course," answered the minx, readily. "I shall see the world, andmeet people of consequence."
"So you are going to England to meet people of consequence!" I criedbitterly.
"How provincial you are, Richard! What people of consequence have wehere? The Governor and the honourable members of his Council, forsooth!There is not a title save his Excellency's in our whole colony, andVirginia is scarce better provided."
"In spite of my feeling I was fain to laugh at this, knowing well thatshe had culled it all from little Mr. Marmaduke himself.
"All in good time," said I. "We shall have no lack of noted menpresently."
"Mere two-penny heroes," she retorted. "I know your great men, such asMr. Henry and Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams."
I began pulling up the grass savagely by the roots.
"I'll lay a hundred guineas you have no regrets at leaving any of us, myfine miss!" I cried, getting to my feet. "You would rather be a lady offashion than have the love of an honest man,--you who have the hearts oftoo many as it is."
Her eyes lighted, but with mirth. Laughing, she chose a little bunch ofthe lilies and worked them into my coat.
"Richard, you silly goose!" she said; "I dote upon seeing you in atemper."
I stood between anger and God knows what other feelings, now startingaway, now coming back to her. But I always came back.
"You have ever said you would marry an earl, Dolly," I said sadly. "Ibelieve you do not care for any of us one little bit."
She turned away, so that for the moment I could not see her face, thenlooked at me with exquisite archness over her shoulder. The low tones ofher voice were of a richness indescribable. 'Twas seldom she made use ofthem.
"You will be coming to Oxford, Richard."
"I fear not, Dolly," I replied soberly. "I fear not, now. Mr. Carvel istoo feeble for me to leave him."
At that she turned to me, another mood coming like a gust of wind on theChesapeake.
"Oh, how I wish they were all like you!" she cried, with a stamp of herfoot. "Sometimes I despise gallantry. I hate the smooth compliments ofyour macaronies. I thank Heaven you are big and honest and clumsy and--"
"And what, Dorothy?" I asked, bewildered.
"And stupid," said she. "Now take me back, sir."
We had not gone thirty paces before we heard a hearty bass voicesinging:
"'It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, with a ho, with a hey nonino.'"
And there was Colonel Sharpe, straying along among the privet hedges.
And so the morning of her sailing came, so full of sadness for me. Whynot confess, after nigh threescore years, that break of day found mepacing the deserted dock. At my back, across the open space, was theirregular line of quaint, top-heavy shops since passed away, theirsightless windows barred by solid shutters of oak. The good shipAnnapolis, which was to carry my playmate to broader scenes, lay amongthe shipping, in the gray roads just quickening with returning light.How my heart ached that morning none shall ever know. But, as the sunshot a burning line across the water, a new salt breeze sprang up andfanned a hope into flame. 'Twas the very breeze that was to blow Dorothydown the bay. Sleepy apprentices took down the shutters, and polishedthe windows until they shone again; and chipper Mr. Denton Jacques, whodid such a thriving business opposite, presently appeared to wish me abright good morning.
I knew that Captain Waring proposed to sail at ten of the clock; butafter breakfasting, I was of two minds whether to see the last of MissDorothy, foreseeing a levee in her honour upon the ship. And so itproved. I had scarce set out in a pungy from the dock, when I perceiveda dozen boats about the packet; and when I thrust my shoulders throughthe gangway, there was the company gathered at the mainmast. They madea gay bit of colour,--Dr. Courtenay in a green coat laced with fineMechlin, Fitzhugh in claret and silk stockings of a Quaker gray, and theother gentlemen as smartly drest. The Dulany girls and the Fotheringaygirls, and I know not how many others, were there to see their friendoff for home.
In the midst of them was Dorothy, in a crimson silk capuchin, for wehad had one of our changes of weather. It was she who spied me as I wasdrawing down the ladder again.
"It is Richard!" I heard her cry. "He has come at last."
I gripped the rope tightly, sprang to the deck, and faced her as shecame out of the group, her lips parted, and the red of her cheeks vyingwith the hood she wore. I took her hand silently.
"I had given you over, Richard," she said, her eyes lookingreproachfully into mine. "Another ten minutes, and I should not haveseen you."
Indeed, the topsails were already off the caps, the captain on deck, andthe men gathered at the capstan.
"Have you not enough to wish you good-by, Dolly?" I asked.
"There must be a score of them," said my lady, making a face. "But Iwish to talk to you."
Mr. Marmaduke, however, had no notion of allowing a gathering in hisdaughter's honour to be broken up. It had been wickedly said of him,when the news of his coming departure got around, that he feared Dorothywould fall in love with some provincial beau before he could get herwithin reach of a title. When he observed me talking to her, he hurriedaway from the friends come to see his wife (he had none himself),and seizing me by the arm implored me to take good care of my deargrandfather, and to write them occasionally of the state of his health,and likewise how I fared.
"I think Dorothy will miss you more than any of them, Richard," said he."Will you not, my dear?"
But she was gone. I, too, left him without ceremony, to speak to Mrs.Manners, who was standing apart, looking shoreward. She started when Ispoke, and I saw that tears were in her eyes.
"Are you coming back soon, Mrs. Manners?" I asked.
"Oh, Richard! I don't know," she answered, with a little choke in hervoice. "I hope it will be no longer than a year, for we are leaving allwe hold dear for a very doubtful pleasure."
She bade me write to them, as Mr. Marmaduke had, only she was sincere.Then the mate came, with his hand to his cap, respectfully to informvisitors that the anchor was up and down. Albeit my spirits were low,'twas no small entertainment to watch the doctor and his rivals at theiradieus. Courtenay had at his command an hundred subterfuges to outwithis fellows, and so manoeuvred that he was the last of them over theside. As for me, luckily, I was not worth a thought. But as the doctorleaned over her hand, I vowed in my heart that if Dorothy was to begained only in such a way I would not stoop to it. And in my heart Idoubted it. I heard Dr. Courtenay hint, looking meaningly at her cloak,that some of his flowers would not have appeared amiss there.
"Why, doctor," says my lady aloud, with a side glance at me, "the wisdomof Solomon might not choose out of twenty baskets."
And this was all the thanks he got for near a boat-load of roses! Whenat length the impatient mate had hurried him off, Dolly turned to me. Itwas not in me to say more than:
"Good-by, Dorothy. And do not forget your old playmate. He will neverforget you."
We stood within the gangway. With a quick movement she threw open hercloak, and pinned to her gown I saw a faded bunch of lilies of thevalley.
I had but the time to press her hand. The boatswain's pipe whistled, andthe big ship was already sliding in the water as I leaped into my pungy,which Hugo was holding to the ladder. We pulled off to where the otherswaited.
But the Annapolis sailed away down the bay, and never another glimpse wecaught of my lady.
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