At His Gates: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)

by Mrs. Oliphant

  CHAPTER IX.

  'It is vanity, my dear, vanity. You must not set your mind upon it,'said Mrs Haldane.

  'Oh, but it was delightful,' said Norah, 'it was wonderful! if you hadbeen there yourself you would have liked it as much as I did. Everybodylooked so nice, and everybody _was_ so nice, Mrs Haldane. A thing thatmakes every one kind and pleasant and smiling must be good, don't youthink so? We were all as amiable, as charming, as fascinating as ever wecould be.'

  'And whom did you dance with?' said Miss Jane.

  'I danced with everybody. It is quite true. You cannot think how kindthe people were. When we went in first,' said Norah, with a laugh and ablush, 'I saw so many strange faces, I was afraid I should have nodancing at all; so I whispered to Charlie Dalton, 'Do take me out forthe next dance, Charlie!' and he nodded to say yes. I suppose it wasdreadfully wrong and ignorant; but I did so want to have a good dance!'

  'Well, then, that is one,' said practical Miss Jane, beginning to counton her fingers.

  'Oh, no! it is not one at all. Mr Rivers came and asked me, and I forgotall about Charlie. He forgot too, I suppose; for I did not dance withhim the whole evening. And then there was Ned, and young Mr Howard, andCaptain Douglas, and Mrs Dalton's brother, and--I told you, everybody;and, to be very grand, Lord Merewether himself at the end.'

  'Lord Merewether!' Miss Jane was deeply impressed, and held the fingeron which she had counted this potentate for a full minute. 'Then, Norah,my dear, you had the very best of the great county folks.'

  'Yes,' said Norah, 'it was very nice; only he was a little--stupid. Andthen Ned again, and Mr Rivers; Mr Rivers was always coming; mamma mademe say I was engaged. It did not turn out to be a fib, for somegentleman always came to ask me; but one always shows it in one's facewhen one says a thing that is not quite true.'

  'Oh, Norah!' said Mrs Haldane, 'is not that just what I told you? Do youthink anything can be good or right for a young girl in a Christianland that makes you say what is not quite true? There may be no harm inthe dancing by itself, though in my day we were of a different way ofthinking; but to tell--lies----'

  'Not lies, mother,' said Stephen. 'When Norah told Mr Rivers she wasengaged, he understood, of course, that she did not want to dance withhim.'

  'Well,' said Norah slowly, 'I don't know. To tell the very, very truth,I did want very much to dance with him. He dances like an angel--atleast, I don't know how an angel dances--Oh, please don't look soshocked, Mrs Haldane; I did not mean any harm. He is just simplydelightful to dance with. But mamma thought something--I don't knowwhat. It is etiquette, you know; a girl must not dance very often withone man.'

  'And who is this Mr Rivers?' said Stephen. 'Is he as delightful in otherways?'

  'Don't you remember?' said Norah. 'It is so funny nobody seems toremember but me. When we came here first, he was here too, and mamma andI met him one day at our old home in London. Mr Stephen, I am sure Ihave told you; the boy, I used to call him, that was on our side.'

  'Ah, I remember now,' said Stephen; 'and he seems to be on your sidestill, from what you say. But who is he, Norah, and what is he, and whydid he want to dance so often with you?'

  'As for that,' said Norah, laughing, 'I suppose he liked me too; therewas not any other reason. He is so handsome!--just exactly like the heroin a novel. The moment I saw him I said to myself, "Here is the hero."He is almost too handsome: dark, with hair that curls all over his head,and the most beautiful dark eyes. You never saw such beautiful eyes! Oh,I am not speaking because I like him. I think I should almost like himbetter if he was not quite so--don't you know? If I were writing anovel, I should take him for the hero. I should make everybody fall inlove with him--all the ladies, one after another. When one sees a manlike that in real life,' said Norah, with gravity, 'it puts one directlyon one's guard.'

  'Are you on your guard, Norah?' said Stephen, with a smile. Theincipient fun in his eyes was, however, softened by a tenderer alarm, awistful curiosity. The child! Since poor Drummond used to call her so,regarding her as the child _par excellence_--the type and crown ofchildhood--this was the name that had seemed most appropriate to Norah.And it meant so much--not only Robert's child, who was gone, and hadleft her to the love of his friends, but the very embodiment of youthand innocence--the fresh, new life, to be made something better of thanany of the older lives had been. Should she, too, fall just into thecommon snare--just into the vulgar pitfalls, as everybody did? Thethought disturbed her self-appointed guardian--her father's friend.

  'Me!' said Norah, and her colour rose, and she laughed, with a light inher eyes which had not been there before. It was not the glance ofrising excitement, as Stephen feared, but only a merry glow of youthfultemerity--that daring which loves to anticipate danger. 'Oh, what fun itwould be! But no, Mr Stephen; oh, no! that was not what I meant in theleast. I am not that sort of girl. Mr Rivers,' she added, with a certainsolemnity, 'had something to do with that bank, you know. I don't knowwhat he had to do with it. He is Lord Rivers's son, and it is to talkover that that he is coming to see mamma.'

  'Oh, to talk over that!' said Stephen, half amused.

  'Yes, to talk it over,' said Norah, with great gravity; and then shemade a sudden leap from the subject. 'The Merewethers are all stayingat the great house--the Marchioness herself, and Lord Merewether, andthe girls; I think they are very nice girls. But, oh! Miss Jane, I musttell you one thing; she had on her diamonds. I never saw diamondsbefore. They are like light. They change, and they glimmer, and theymake little rainbows. I never saw anything so beautiful! They are like aquantity of dewdrops when the sun is shining--only you never could getdewdrops to keep still in one place.'

  'And I suppose they are worth a mint of money,' said Miss Jane, with asigh of admiration. 'I have never seen them but in the shops, Norah; butI don't think I should like to wear as much as would keep half-a-dozenpoor families round my neck.'

  Norah paused doubtfully, not feeling equal to this question.

  'I suppose they belong to the family, and she dare not sell them, andthen, perhaps--Would God have made diamonds if He did not mean people towear them?' she asked, with hesitation. 'Oh, do you know, I think Ishould like so much to wear them, if they were mine!'

  'Ah, my dear,' said old Mrs Haldane, 'see how vanity comes into themind. Yesterday you had never thought of diamonds; now you wouldlike--you know you would like--to have them; and from that to trying toget them is but a step, Norah, but a step--if you don't mind.'

  'I could only try to get them by stealing them,' said Norah; 'and, afterall, I don't care so much as that. Besides, girls don't wear diamonds.But I'll tell you what I should like. I should like to take those lovelythings of the Marchioness's, and put them upon mamma.'

  'There, I told you!' said the old lady. 'Norah, don't go to these placesany more. You have begun to covet them in your heart.'

  'Oh, how beautiful mamma would look in them!' cried Norah. 'Mr Stephen,is it vanity to admire one's mother? I suppose it must be really; for ifthere is anything in the world that belongs to you, of course it is yourmother. I think mamma is beautiful: even in her black silk, made square,and not so fresh as it once was, she was the most beautiful in theroom--I don't mean pretty, like us girls. And if I could have put herinto black velvet instead, with lovely lace, like Mrs Burton's, and theMarchioness's diamonds--oh!' cried Norah, expanding in her proudimagination, 'she would have been like a queen!'

  'Oh, Norah, Norah!' cried Mrs Haldane, shaking her head.

  'And so she would,' said Stephen. 'Norah is quite right.'

  He spoke low, and there was a melancholy tone in his voice. He wasthinking sadly how she had been buried like himself in the middle of herdays--shut out from all those triumphs and glories which are pleasant toa woman. A less human-hearted man in Stephen Haldane's position would nodoubt have pronounced it happy for Helen that she was thus preservedfrom vanity and vain-glory. But he had learned to feel for all thedeprivations of life. This was what he was really thinking, but not whathe
was supposed to think. Miss Jane gave a glance of her eye at him fromher sewing, half-indignant, half-sorrowful. She had fancied something ofthe sort often, she said to herself. Stephen, poor Stephen! who couldnever have a wife, or any other love different from her own. She thoughtthat the other woman whom she had admitted in all the confidence offriendship had stolen from him her brother's heart.

  'Well, and if she had,' said Miss Jane, with some sharpness, 'what goodwould that have done her? I never heard that to be like a queen madeanybody the happier yet.'

  'I was not thinking of what made her happier,' said Norah, comingbehind Miss Jane's chair, and stealing an arm round her neck, 'but ofwhat would make _me_ happier. Shouldn't you like to have everything thatwas nice for Mrs Haldane and Mr Stephen, even if they didn't want it?Oh, I know you would! and so should I.'

  'You coaxing child! you would make one swear black was white! What hasthat to do with lace and diamonds?' said Miss Jane; but she wasvanquished, and had no more to say.

  'Mary and Katie were in white tarletane,' said Norah. 'They looked sopretty! Clara looked very much the same. You can't have much better thanfresh white tarletane, you know; only she had the most beautiful silkunderneath, and heaps of ornaments. She is so big she can stand a greatdeal of decoration; but it would not have done for any of us littlethings. How anxious I used to be to grow big!' Norah went on. 'Now, onthe whole, I think it is best not; one does not take up so much room;one does not require so much stuff for a dress; one can do without agreat many things. If I had been as big as Clara, now, for instance, Inever could have done with those little bits of bracelets and mamma'sone string of pearls.'

  'So you see good comes from evil,' said Stephen, with a smile.

  'Oh, Stephen, don't talk so to encourage the child! With yourupbringing, Norah, and with all the advantages you have had, to give upyour mind to such follies! If I were your poor mamma----'

  'She is saying nothing wrong, mother,' said Miss Jane. 'It _is_ a greatgain to Norah, you know, that she is little, and can get a pretty dressout of twelve yards of stuff, when Clara Burton takes twenty. That isthrift, and not vanity. I am very glad you are little, Norah; big womenare always in the way. That Clara Burton, for instance--if she were in asmall house she would fill it all up; there would not be room for anyone else. What does Mr Rivers see in her, I wonder? She is not half sonice as some people I know.'

  'Mr Rivers?' said Norah.

  'Yes, my dear. They say it is almost a settled thing between the twofamilies. She will have quantities of money, and he will be Lord Riverswhen his father dies. They say that is why he is here.'

  It did not matter anything to Norah. She did not care; why should she?Her very admiration of him had been linked with a gibe. He was toohandsome; he was a man out of a book. Nevertheless, she looked at MissJane for a moment aghast. 'The boy that was on our side!' she said toherself.

  'Who are _they_, and what do they know about it?' said Stephen. 'Peopledon't make such arrangements now-a-days. If this were intended, you maybe sure nothing at all would be said.'

  Stephen made this little speech partly out of a real regard for Norah'scheerfulness, which he thought was affected, and partly to rouse her toself-defence.

  'But it would be quite nice,' said Norah, recovering her dismay. 'Oh,how funny it would be to think of one of us being married! It should beClara the first; she is the youngest, but she is the biggest, and shewas always the one who would be first, you know. She is very, veryhandsome, Miss Jane. You never were fond of Clara; that is why you don'tsee it. It would be the very thing!' cried Norah, clapping her hands.'She is not one of the girls that would go and make him vain, falling inlove with him. She will keep him in his right place; she will not lethim be the hero in the novel. The only thing is, I am a littledisappointed--though it is very foolish and stupid; for of course allthat is over long ago, and Clara is like my sister; and if Mr Burton waswicked, I hope he has repented. But still, you know, I have alwaysthought of Mr Rivers as one that was on our side.'

  'Hush, child!' cried Miss Jane. 'Don't be the one to keep up oldquarrels. That is all over now, and we have no sides.'

  'So I suppose,' said Norah; 'but I feel a little as if he were adeserter. I wonder if Clara likes him. I wonder if----It is all so veryfunny! One of us girls! But I must go now to mamma. Mr Stephen, I willcome back in the evening, and tell you what mamma thinks, and if MrRivers had anything to tell her--that is, if he comes to-day.'

  And Norah ran away unceremoniously, without leave-taking. She was thechild of both the households. Sometimes she went and came a dozen timesin a day, carrying always a little stream of youth, and life, andfreshness into the stagnant places. Stephen laid down his book with asmile at the sight of her; he took it up now with a little sigh. He hadsat there all these six years, a motionless, solemn figure, swept asidefrom the life of man, and Norah's comings and goings had been as sweetto him as if she had been his own child. Now he feared that a newchapter of life was opening, and it moved him vaguely, with anexpectation which was mingled with pain; for any change must bring painto him. To others there would be alternations--threads twisted of darkand bright, of good and evil; but to him in his chair by the window, nochange, he felt, could bring anything but harm.

  'Oh, mamma,' said Norah, rushing into the drawing-room at the other sideof the house, 'fancy what I have just heard! They say it is all butsettled that Clara is to marry Mr Rivers. They say that is why he ishere.'

  'It is very likely, dear,' said Helen. 'I thought something of that kindmust be intended from what I saw last night.'

  'What did you see, mamma? How odd I should never have thought of it! Ifeel a little disappointed,' said Norah; 'because, you know, I alwaysmade up my mind that he was on our side.'

  'We don't want him on our side,' said Mrs Drummond, with a decisionwhich surprised her daughter. 'And, Norah, I am glad you have spoken tome. Be sure you don't forget this when you meet Mr Rivers: he is veryagreeable, and he seems very friendly; but you must take care never tosay anything, or to let him say anything, that you would not wish Clarato hear.'

  Norah paused, and looked at her mother with considerablebewilderment. 'How very strange of you to say this, mamma! How verydisagreeable--never to say anything, nor let him say anything! But Ishould hate to have Clara, or any one, listening to all I say. I willnot talk to him at all. I will close my lips up tight, and never say aword. I suppose that will be best.'

  'Not to-day, however,' said Mrs Drummond; 'for I see him coming, Norah.You must be as you always are--neither opening your mouth too much, norclosing it up too tight.'

  'I hate the _juste milieu_,' said naughty Norah; but at that moment thedoor-bell rang, and, before she could speak again, Mr Rivers was shownin, looking more like the hero of a novel than ever. He was tall,slender, well-proportioned. He had those curls about his temples whichgo to a girl's heart. He had the most ingratiating nose, thebeautifullest eyes. 'For one thing,' said Norah to herself savagely,'Clara will not go and fall in love with him and make him vain!' Clarahad too great an opinion of herself; she was not likely to be any man'sworshipper. There was consolation in that.

  'It is a long time since we met,' Mr Rivers said; 'but you must pardonme for thrusting myself upon you all at once, Mrs Drummond. I have neverforgotten what passed when I saw you last. I doubt whether I ought tospeak of it after all these years.'

  'Perhaps it is better not,' said Helen.

  'Perhaps; but I should like to say one thing--just one thing. I do notknow if you thought my father to blame. He is a quiet man; he nevermakes any public appearance; he was a sufferer only. He had nothing todo with the bank. He was one of those who were wronged, not of those whodid the wrong.'

  'I have always known that,' said Mrs Drummond; and then there was apause. ('He is on our side still,' Norah thought to herself; but hermother changed the subject abruptly.) 'The children have all grown upsince you were here. Time has made more change upon them than upon you.'

  'Do you think so?' said the
hero. 'I am not sure. Time has made a greatdeal of difference in me. I am not half so sure of the satisfactorinessof life and the good qualities of the world as I used to be. I supposeit is a sign that age is coming on; whereas these young people, thesefairy princes and princesses, who were babies when I was here----'

  At this point Norah was seized with one of those irrestrainable,seductive laughs which lead the spirit astray. 'Oh, I beg your pardon,'she said; 'but I was puzzled to think how poor dear Ned could be a fairyprince! He is such a dear fellow, and I am so fond of him; but PrinceCharmant, mamma!'

  'If he is a dear fellow, and you are fond of him, I should think it didnot matter much whether he looked like Prince Charmant or not,' said MrRivers; and then he added, with a smile--'There are other kinds ofprinces besides Charmant. Riquet, with the tuft, for instance; and hewith the long nose----'

  Now Ned, poor fellow, had a long nose. He had not grown up handsome, andNorah was strongly conscious of the fact. She felt that she had been thefirst to laugh at him, and yet she hated this stranger for following herexample. She grew very red, and drew herself up with the air of anoffended queen.

  'They all got _charmant_ at the last,' she said stiffly; 'that is betterthan beginning by being _charmant_, and turning out very disagreeable inthe end.'

  Mrs Drummond gave her daughter a warning glance. 'It was a pretty partylast night,' she said; 'I hope you liked it. We thought it very grand;we have so little gaiety here.'

  'Was it gaiety?' said the young man. 'I suppose it was; but a ball isalways rather a solemn affair to me, especially when you are staying inthe house. The horror that comes over you lest you have danced with someone you ought not to have danced with, or left some one whom you ought.I broke away for a little while last night when I saw you, and went infor simple pleasure--but duty always drags one back at the end.'

  'Duty at a ball! Why it is all pleasure,' cried Norah. 'It may befoolish and frivolous, or it may even be--wrong; but I never was sohappy in my life.'

  Then the hero of romance turned upon her, and smiled. 'You told me itwas your first ball,' he said; 'and that, I suppose, would naturallymake it look like Paradise.'

  'It was very nice,' said Norah. His smile and his look drove her backinto the shelter of commonplace. Somehow when he looked at her, herenergy seemed to turn into exaggeration, and her natural fervour intopretence. Then she plunged into the heart of a new subject with all achild's temerity. 'Don't you think Clara is very handsome?' she said.

  Mr Rivers did not shrink from a reply. 'She is very handsome--if sheknew how to dress.'

  'Dress! why, she had the loveliest dress----'

  'It was all white and puffy--like yours,' he said. 'Fancy that girlhaving no more perception than to dress herself like you! What has sheto do with shadows, and clouds, and mystery? She should be in heavysilks or satins, like the Juno she is.'

  Norah did not quite make out what this meant; whether it was the highestadmiration or a covert sneer. She took it for granted it must be theformer. 'Yes; I know she is like a Juno,' she said, somewhat doubtfully;adding, with a slightly faltering tone, 'and she is very nice too.'

  'She is your cousin, Norah,' said Mrs Drummond quietly; and then thechild grew redder than ever, and felt herself put on her defence.

  'I did not mean to gossip, mamma. I don't know what Mr Rivers likes totalk about. When any one is quite a stranger, how can you tell, unlessyou are very, very clever, what to talk about? And then I have been withMr Stephen, telling them all about the ball. It is in my head. I can'tthink of anything else. How pretty the Merewether girls are! Oh, I begyour pardon. I did not mean to go back to the same subject. But I had totell _them_ everything--what people were there, and whom I danced with,and----'

  'Mr Stephen always encourages your chatter,' said Helen, with a smile.

  'What a sensible man Mr Stephen must be! May I know who he is?' saidyoung Rivers; and thus a new topic presented itself. Stephen Haldane'sname and his story brought up an unintentional reference to themisfortunes which linked the two households together, and which hadgiven Cyril Rivers a certain hold upon them. When this chance wasafforded him, he told them, very simply and shortly, what sacrifices hisfather had made; how he had mortgaged some of his property, and soldsome, and was living very quietly now, in retirement, till his childrenwere all educated. 'I am sent out into the world, to see how it looksafter the waters have abated,' he said, laughing. 'I have got to findout how the land lies, and if there is any green showing above theflood; but I don't know whether I am most likely to turn out the ravenor the dove.'

  'Oh, I should like to find an olive leaf for you to fly back with,' saidNorah, obeying her first impulse, in her foolish way. Mrs Drummondlooked at him very gravely, without any of her daughter's enthusiasm.

  'Mr Rivers must find the olive leaf in some warmer corner,' she said.'They don't grow in our garden, Norah. We have none to give.'

  'That is true,' said the heedless girl; 'but, if the olive would do, MrRivers, there is one in the conservatory at the great house--a poor,little, wee, stunted thing; but there is one, I know.'

  Did she mean it? or was it mere innocence, heedlessness? It was notwonderful if Cyril Rivers was puzzled, for even Mrs Drummond could notmake quite sure.