_Chapter XII_
The second of her Thursday evenings found Miss Marjoribanks, thoughsecure, perhaps more anxious than on the former occasion. The charm ofthe first novelty was gone, and Lucilla did not feel quite sure that hersubjects had the good sense to recognise all the benefits which she wasgoing to confer upon them. "It is the second time that counts," she saidin confidence to Mrs Chiley. "Last Thursday they wanted to see thedrawing-room, and they wanted to know what sort of thing it was to be.Dear Mrs Chiley, it is to-night that is the test," said Lucilla, givinga nervous pressure to her old friend's hand; at least a pressure thatwould have betokened the existence of nerves in any one else but MissMarjoribanks, whose magnificent organisation was beyond any suspicion ofsuch weakness. But, nevertheless, Mrs Chiley, who watched her withgrandmotherly interest, was comforted to perceive that Lucilla, as onthe former occasion, had strength of mind to eat her dinner. "She wantsa little support, poor dear," the old lady said in her heart; for shewas a kinder critic than the younger matrons, who felt instinctivelythat Miss Marjoribanks was doing what they ought to have done. She tookher favourite's arm in hers as they went upstairs, and gave Mr Cavendisha kindly nod as he opened the door for them. "He will come and give youhis assistance as soon as ever he can get away from the gentlemen,"said Mrs Chiley, in her consolatory tone; "but, good gracious, Lucilla,what is the matter?" The cause of this exclamation was a universal humand rustle as of many dresses and many voices; and, to tell the truth,when Miss Marjoribanks and her companion reached the top of the stairs,they found themselves lost in a laughing crowd, which had taken refugeon the landing. "There is no room, Lucilla. Lucilla, everybody inCarlingford is here. Do make a little room for us in the drawing-room,"cried this overplus of society. If there was an enviable woman inCarlingford at that moment, it certainly was Miss Marjoribanks, standingon the top of her own stairs, scarcely able to penetrate through thethrong of her guests. Her self-possession did not forsake her at thissupreme moment. She grasped Mrs Chiley once again with a littlesignificant gesture which pleased the old lady, for she could not butfeel that she was Lucilla's only _confidante_ in her brilliant butperilous undertaking. "_They_ will not be able to get in when they comeupstairs," said Miss Marjoribanks; and whether the faint inflection inher voice meant exultation or disappointment, her old friend could nottell.
But the scene changed when the rightful sovereign entered the gay butdisorganised dominion where her subjects attended her. Before any oneknew how it was done, Miss Marjoribanks had re-established order, and,what was still more important, made room. She said, "You girls have nobusiness to get into corners. The corners are for the people that cantalk. It is one of my principles always to flirt in the middle of thecompany," said Lucilla; and again, as happened so often, ignorant peoplelaughed and thought it a _bon mot_. But it is needless to inform themore intelligent persons who understand Miss Marjoribanks, that it wasby no means a _bon mot_, but expressed Lucilla's convictions with theutmost sincerity.
Thus it happened that the second Thursday was more brilliant andinfinitely more gratifying than the first had been. For one thing, shefelt sure that it was not to see the new furniture, nor to criticisethis new sort of entertainment, but with the sincerest intention ofenjoying themselves, that all the people had come; and there are momentswhen the egotism of the public conveys the highest compliment that canbe paid to the great minds which take in hand to rule and to amuse it.The only drawback was, that Barbara Lake did not show the same modestyand reticence as on the former occasion. Far from being sensiblysilent, which she had been so prudent as to be on Miss Marjoribanks'sfirst Thursday, she forgot herself so far as to occupy a great deal ofMr Cavendish's valuable time, which he might have employed much moreusefully. She not only sang by herself when he asked her, having broughtsome music with her unseen by Lucilla, but she kept her seat upon thestool before the piano ever so long afterwards, detaining him, and, asMiss Marjoribanks had very little doubt, making an exhibition ofherself: for Barbara, having received one good gift from nature, hadbeen refused the other, and could not talk. When Lucilla, arrested inthe midst of her many occupations, heard her protegee's voice risingalone, she stopped quite short with an anxiety which it was touching tobehold. It was not the jealousy of a rival cantatrice which inspiredMiss Marjoribanks's countenance, but the far broader and grander anxietyof an accomplished statesman, who sees a rash and untrained handmeddling with his most delicate machinery. Lucilla ignored everythingfor the moment--her own voice, and Mr Cavendish's attentions, and everymerely secondary and personal emotion. All these details were swallowedup in the fear that Barbara would not acquit herself as it was necessaryfor the credit of the house that she should acquit herself; that sheshould not sing well enough, or that she should sing too much. Once moreMiss Marjoribanks put her finger upon the pulse of the community as sheand they listened together. Fortunately, things went so far well thatBarbara sang her very best, and kept up her prestige: but it wasdifferent in the second particular; for, unluckily, the contralto knew agreat many songs, and showed no inclination to stop. Nothing remainedfor it but a bold _coup_, which Lucilla executed with all her naturalcoolness and success.
"My dear Barbara," she said, putting her hands on the singer's shouldersas she finished her strain, "that is enough for to-night. Mr Cavendishwill take you downstairs and get you a cup of tea; for you know there isno room to-night to serve it upstairs." Thus Miss Marjoribanks provedherself capable of preferring her great work to her personal sentiments,which is generally considered next to impossible for a woman. She didwhat perhaps nobody else in the room was capable of doing: she sent awaythe gentleman who was paying attention to her, in company with the girlwho was paying attention to him; and at that moment, as was usual whenshe was excited, Barbara was splendid, with her crimson cheeks, and theeyes blazing out from under her level eyebrows. This Miss Marjoribanksdid, not in ignorance, but with a perfect sense of what she was about.It was the only way of preventing her Evening from losing itsdistinctive character. It was the Lamp of sacrifice which Lucilla hadnow to employ, and she proved herself capable of the exertion. But itwould be hopeless to attempt to describe the indignation of old MrsChiley, or the unmitigated amazement of the company in general, whichwas conscious at the same time that Mr Cavendish was paying attention toMiss Marjoribanks, and that he had been flirting in an inexcusablemanner with Miss Lake. "My dear, I would have nothing to do with thatbold girl," Mrs Chiley said in Lucilla's ear. "I will go down and lookafter them if you like. A girl like that always leads the gentlemenastray, you know. I never liked the looks of her. Let me go downstairsand look after them, my dear. I am sure I want a cup of tea."
"You shall have a cup of tea, dear Mrs Chiley," said MissMarjoribanks--"some of them will bring you one; but I can't let you takeany trouble about Barbara. She had to be stopped, you know, or she wouldhave turned us into a musical party; and as for Mr Cavendish, he is thebest assistant I have. There are so few men in Carlingford who canflirt," said Lucilla regretfully. Her eyes fell as she spoke upon youngOsmond Brown, who was actually at that moment talking to Mr Bury'scurate, with a disregard of his social duties painful to contemplate.Poor Osmond started when he met Miss Marjoribanks's reproachful eye.
"But then I don't know how," said the disconcerted youth,--and heflushed, poor boy, being only eighteen, and not much more than aschoolboy. As for Lucilla, who had no intention of putting up with thatsort of thing, she sent off the curate summarily for Mrs Chiley's cup oftea.
"I did not mean you, my dear Osy," she said, in her motherly tone. "Whenyou are a little older we shall see what you can do; but you are not atall disagreeable for a boy," she added encouragingly, and took Osmond'sarm as she made her progress down the room with an indulgence worthy ofher maturer years; and even Mrs Centum and Mrs Woodburn and the MissBrowns, who were, in a manner, Lucilla's natural rivals, could not butbe impressed with this evidence of her powers. They were like the Tuscanchivalry in the ballad, who could scarce forbear a cheer at the sighto
f their opponent's prowess. Perhaps nothing that she could have donewould have so clearly demonstrated the superiority of her genius to herfemale audience as that bold step of stopping the music, which began tobe too much, by sending off the singer downstairs under charge of MrCavendish. To be sure the men did not even find out what it was thatawoke the ladies' attention; but then, in delicate matters of socialpolitics, one never expects to be understood by _them_.
Barbara Lake, as was to be expected, took a very long time over her cupof tea; and even when she returned upstairs she made another pause onthe landing, which was still kept possession of by a lively stream ofyoung people coming and going. Barbara had very little experience, andshe was weak enough to believe that Mr Cavendish lingered there to havea little more of her society all to himself; but to tell the truth, hissentiments were of a very different description. For by this time itmust be owned that Barbara's admirer began to feel a little ashamed ofhimself. He could not but be conscious of Lucilla's magnanimity; and, atthe same time, he was very well aware that his return with his presentcompanion would be watched and noted and made the subject of comment agreat deal more amusing than agreeable. When he did take Barbara in atlast, it was with a discomfited air which tickled the spectators beyondmeasure. And as his evil luck would have it, notwithstanding the longpause he had made on the landing, to watch his opportunity of enteringunobserved, Miss Marjoribanks was the first to encounter the returningcouple. They met full in the face, a few paces from the door--exactly,as Mrs Chiley said, as if it had been Mr and Mrs Cavendish on theirwedding visit, and the lady of the house had gone to meet them. As forthe unfortunate gentleman, he could not have looked more utterlydisconcerted and guilty if he had been convicted of putting the spoonsin his pocket, or of having designs upon the silver tea-service. Hefound a seat for his companion with all the haste possible; and insteadof lingering by her side, as she had anticipated, made off on theinstant, and hid himself like a criminal in the dark depths of a groupof men who were talking together near the door. These were men who werehopeless, and good for nothing but to talk to each other, and whom MissMarjoribanks tolerated in her drawing-room partly because their wives,with an excusable weakness, insisted on bringing them, and partlybecause they made a foil to the brighter part of the company, and servedas a butt when anybody wanted to be witty. As for Lucilla, she made noeffort to recall the truant from the ranks of the Incurables. It was theonly vengeance she took upon his desertion. When he came to take leaveof her, she was standing with her hand in that of Mrs Chiley, who wasalso going away. "I confess I was a little nervous this evening," MissMarjoribanks was saying. "You know it is always the second that is thetest. But I think, on the whole, it has gone off very well. MrCavendish, you promised to tell me the truth; for you know I have greatconfidence in your judgment. Tell me sincerely, do you think it has beena pleasant evening?" Lucilla said, with a beautiful earnestness, lookinghim in the face.
The guilty individual to whom this question was addressed felt disposedto sink into the earth, if the earth, in the shape of Mr Holden'sbeautiful new carpet, would but have opened to receive him; but, afterall, that was perhaps not a thing to be desired under the circumstances.Mr Cavendish, however, was a man of resources, and not disposed to giveup the contest without striking a blow in his own defence.
"Not so pleasant as last Thursday," he said. "I am not fit to be alady's adviser, for I am too sincere; but I incline to think it is thethird that is the test," said the future M.P.; and Lucilla made him, asMrs Chiley remarked, the most beautiful curtsey; but then nothing couldbe more delightful than the manner in which that dear girl behavedthrough the whole affair.
"If everybody would only help me as you do!" said Miss Marjoribanks."Good-night; I am so sorry you have not enjoyed yourself. But then it issuch a consolation to meet with people that are sincere. And I think, onthe whole, it has gone off very well for the second," said Lucilla,"though I say it that should not say it." The fact was, it had gone offso well that the house could hardly be cleared of the amiable andsatisfied guests. A series of the most enthusiastic compliments werepaid to Lucilla as she stood in state in the middle of the room, andbade everybody good-bye. "Next Thursday," she said, with the benevolentgrace of an acknowledged sovereign. And when they were all gone, MissMarjoribanks's reflections, as she stood alone in the centre of herdomains, were of a nature very different from the usual reflectionswhich the giver of a feast is supposed to make when all is over. Butthen, as everybody is aware, it was not a selfish desire for personalpleasure, nor any scheme of worldly ambition, which moved the mind ofLucilla. With such motives it is only natural that the conclusion, "Allis vanity," should occur to the weary entertainer in the midst of hiswithered flowers and extinguished lights. Such ideas had nothing incommon with the enlightened conceptions of Miss Marjoribanks. Perhaps itwould be false to say that she had suffered in the course of this secondThursday, or that a superior intelligence like Lucilla's could permititself to feel any jealousy of Barbara Lake; but it would be vain todeny that she had been _surprised_. And any one who knows MissMarjoribanks will acknowledge that a great deal was implied in thatconfession. But then she had triumphed over the weakness, andtriumphantly proved that her estimate of the importance of her work wentfar beyond the influence of mere personal feeling. In thesecircumstances Lucilla could contemplate her withered flowers withperfect calmness, without any thought that all was vanity. But then thefact was, Miss Marjoribanks was accomplishing a great public duty, andat the same time had the unspeakable consolation of knowing that she hadproved herself a comfort to her dear papa. The Doctor, it is true, afterlooking on for a little with a half-amused consciousness that his ownassistance was totally unnecessary, had gradually veered into a corner,and from thence had finally managed to escape downstairs to his belovedlibrary. But then the sense of security and tranquillity with which heestablished himself at the fire, undisturbed by the gay storm that ragedoutside, gave a certain charm to his retirement. He rubbed his hands andlistened, as a man listens to the wind howling out of doors, when he isin shelter and comfort. So that, after all, Lucilla's sensation ofhaving accomplished her filial duties in the most effective manner wasto a certain extent justified, while at the same time it is quitecertain that nobody missed Dr Marjoribanks from the pleasant assemblyupstairs.
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