CHAPTER TWELVE.
PANDORA.
In the projecting oriel window of a very pleasant sitting-room, whoseinside seat was furnished with blue velvet cushions, sat a girl ofseventeen years, dressed in velvet of the colour then known aslion-tawny, which was probably a light yellowish-brown. It was trimmed,or as she would have said, turned up, with satin of the same colour, wascut square, but high, at the throat, and finished by gold embroiderythere and on the cuffs. A hood of dark blue satin covered her head, andcame down over the shoulders, set round the front with small pearls in agolden frame shaped somewhat like a horseshoe. She was leaning her headupon one hand, and looking out of the window with dreamy eyes thatevidently saw but little of the landscape, and thinking so intently thatshe never perceived the approach of another girl, a year or two hersenior, and similarly attired, but with a very different expression inher lively, mischievous eyes. The hands of the latter came down on theshoulders of the meditative maiden so suddenly that she started andalmost screamed. Then, looking up, a faint smile parted her lips, andthe intent look left her eyes.
"Oh! is it you, Gertrude?"
"Dreaming, as usual, Pan? Confess now, that you wist not I was in thechamber."
"I scarce did, True." The eyes were growing grave and thoughtful again.
"Sweet my lady!--what conneth she, our Maiden Meditation? Doth sheessay to find the philosopher's stone?--or be her thoughts of the trueknight that is to bend low at her feet, and whisper unto her some daythat he loveth none save her? I would give a broad shilling for thefirst letter of his name."
"You must give it, then, to some other than me. Nay, True; my fantasiesbe not of thy lively romancing sort. I was but thinking on a littlemaid that I saw yester-even, in our walk with Aunt Grena."
"What, that dainty little conceit that came up to the house with herbasket of needlework that her mother had wrought for Aunt Grena? Shewas a pretty child, I allow."
"Oh no, not Patience Bradbridge. My little maid was elder than she, andlay on a day-bed within a compassed window. I marvelled who she were."
"Why, you surely mean that poor little whitefaced Christabel Hall!She's not pretty a whit--without it be her hair; she hath fair hair thatis not over ill. But I marvel you should take a fantasy to her; thereis nought taking about the child."
"You alway consider whether folks be pretty, Gertrude."
"Of course I do. So doth everybody."
"I don't."
"Oh, you! You are not everybody, Mistress Dorrie."
"No, I am but one maid. But I would fain be acquaint with that child.What said you were her name? All seems strange unto me, dwelling solong with Grandmother; I have to make acquaintance with all the folkswhen I return back home."
"Christabel Hall is her name; she is daughter to Roger Hall, the managerat our works, and he and she dwell alone; she hath no mother."
"No mother, hath she?--and very like none to mother her. Ah, now Iconceive her looks."
"I marvel what you would be at, Pandora. Why, you and I have no mother,but I never mewled and moaned thereafter."
"No, Gertrude, I think you never did."
"Aunt Grena hath seen to all we lacked, hath not she?"
"Aunt is very kind, and I cast no doubt she hath seen to all youlacked." Pandora's tone was very quiet, with a faint pathos in it.
"Why, Dorrie, what lacked you that I did not?" responded Gertrude,turning her laughing face towards her sister.
"Nothing that I could tell you, True. What manner of man is this RogerHall?"
"A right praisable man, Father saith, if it were not for one disorder inhim, that he would fain see amended: and so being, Dorrie, I scarcethink he shall be a-paid to have you much acquaint with his little maid,sithence he hath very like infected her with his foolish opinions."
"What, is he of the new learning?"
Gertrude failed to see the sudden light which shot into Pandora's eyes,as she dropped them on the cushion in the endeavour to smooth anentangled corner of the fringe.
"That, and no less. You may guess what Father and Aunt reckon thereof."
"Father was that himself, Gertrude, only five years gone, when I went todwell in Lancashire."
"Pan, my dear heart, I do pray thee govern thy tongue. It maybesignifies but little what folks believe up in the wilds and forestsyonder, and in especial amongst the witches: but bethink thee, we behere within a day's journey or twain of the Court, where every man'seyes and ears be all alive to see and hear news. What matters it whathapped afore Noah went into the ark? We be all good Catholics now, atthe least. And, Pan, we desire not to be burned; at all gates, I don't,if you do."
"Take your heart to you, sister; my tongue shall do you none ill. I cankeep mine own counsel, and have ere now done the same."
"Then, if you be so discreet, you can maybe be trusted to makeacquaintance with Christie. But suffer not her nor Roger to win youfrom the true Catholic faith."
"I think there is little fear," said Pandora quietly.
The two sisters were nieces of Mr Justice Roberts, and daughters of MrRoberts of Primrose Croft, who was owner of the works of which RogerHall was manager. Theirs was one of the aristocratic houses of theneighbourhood, and themselves a younger branch of an old county familywhich dated from the days of Henry the First. The head of that house,Mr Roberts of Glassenbury, would almost have thought it a condescensionto accept a peerage. The room in which the girls sat was handsomelyfurnished according to the tastes of the time. A curtain of rich shotsilk--"changeable sarcenet" was the name by which they knew it--screenedoff the window end of it at pleasure; a number of exceedinglystiff-looking chairs, the backs worked in tapestry, were ranged againstthe wall opposite the fire; a handsome chair upholstered in blue velvetstood near the fireplace. Velvet stools were here and there about theroom, and cushions, some covered with velvet, some with crewel-work,were to be seen in profusion. They nearly covered the velvet settle, atone side of the fire, and they nestled in soft, plumy, inviting fashion,into the great Flanders chair on the other side. In one corner was "achest of coffins"--be not dismayed, gentle reader! the startling phraseonly meant half-a-dozen boxes, fitting inside each other in graduatedsizes. Of course there was a cupboard, and equally of course thewhite-washed walls were hung with tapestry, wherein a green-kirtledDiana, with a ruff round her neck and a farthingale of sufficientbreadth, drew a long arrow against a stately stag of ten, which, shortof outraging the perspective, she could not possibly hit. A door nowopened in the corner of the room, and admitted a lady of some fortyyears, tall and thin, and excessively upright, having apparently beenmore starched in her mind and carriage than in her dress. Pandoraturned to her.
"Aunt Grena, will you give me leave to make me acquainted with MasterHall's little maid--he that manageth the cloth-works?"
Aunt Grena pursed up her lips and looked doubtful; but as that was herusual answer to any question which took her by surprise, it was notaltogether disheartening.
"I will consult my brother," she said stiffly.
Mr Roberts, who was a little of the type of his brother the Justice,having been consulted, rather carelessly replied that he saw no reasonwhy the maid should not amuse herself with the child if she wished it.Leave was accordingly granted. But Aunt Grena thought it necessary toadd to it a formidable lecture, wherein Pandora was warned of allpossible and impossible dangers that might accrue from the satisfactionof her desire, embellished with awful anecdotes of all manner ofmisfortunes which had happened to girls who wanted or obtained their ownway.
"And methinks," concluded Mistress Grena, "that it were best I took youmyself to Master Hall's house, there to see the maid, and make sure thatshe shall give you no harm."
Gertrude indulged herself in a laugh when her aunt had departed.
"Aunt Grena never can bear in mind," she said, "that you and I, Pan, areabove six years old. Why, Christie Hall was a babe in the cradle when Iwas learning feather-stitch."
"La
ugh not at Aunt Grena, True. She is the best friend we have, and thekindliest."
"Bless you, Dorrie! I mean her no ill, dear old soul! Only I believeshe never was a young maid, and she thinks we never shall be. And I'lltell you, there was some mistake made in my being the elder of us. Itshould have been you, for you are the soberer by many a mile."
Pandora smiled. "I have dwelt with Grandmother five years," she said.
"Well, and haven't I dwelt with Aunt Grena well-nigh nineteen years?No, Pan, that's not the difference. It lieth in the nature of us two.I am a true Roberts, and you take after our mother's folks."
"Maybe so. Will you have with us, True, to Master Hall's?"
"I? Gramercy, no! I'm none so fond of sick childre."
"Christie is not sick, so to speak, Bridget saith; she is but lame andweak."
"Well, then she is sick, so _not_ to speak! She alway lieth of a couch,and I'll go bail she whines and mewls enough o'er it."
"Nay, Bridget saith she is right full of cheer, and most patient,notwithstanding her maladies. And, True, the poor little maid is alonethe whole day long, save on holy-days, when only her father can be withher. Wouldst thou not love well to bring some sunshine into her littlelife?"
"Did I not tell you a minute gone, Pandora Roberts, that you and I werecast in different moulds? No, my Minorite Sister, I should not loveit--never a whit. I want my sunshine for mine own life--not to brightensick maids and polish up poor childre. Go your ways, O best ofPandoras, and let me be. I'll try over the step of that new minuetwhile you are gone."
"And would you really enjoy that better than being kind to a sick child?O True, you do astonish me!"
"I should. I never was cut out for a Lady Bountiful. I could not doit, Dorrie--not for all the praises and blessings you expect to get."
"Gertrude, _did_ you think--"
"An't like you, Mistress Pandora, the horses be at the door, andMistress Grena is now full ready."
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