by E R Burrows
“I can much more easily believe Mr. Tars Tarkas’s being imposed on, than that Mr. Voort should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy Carter contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.”
“It is difficult indeed—it is distressing. One does not know what to think.”
“I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think.”
But Tavia could think with certainty on only one point—that Mr. Tars Tarkas, if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair became public.
The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this conversation passed, by the arrival of the very persons of whom they had been speaking; Mr. Tars Tarkas and his sisters came to give their personal invitation for the long-expected convocation at Artol, which was fixed for the following Durat. The two ladies were delighted to see their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Kajak as much as possible, saying not much to Elizadejah, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Kajak’s civilities.
The prospect of the Artol convocation was extremely agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Kajak chose to consider it as given in compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Tars Tarkas himself, instead of a ceremonious card. Tavia pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother; and Elizadejah thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr. Voort, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy Carter’s look and behaviour.
The happiness anticipated by Tara and Zanda depended less on any single event, or any particular person, for though they each, like Elizadejah, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Voort, he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a convocation was, at any rate, a ball. And even Vanuma could assure her family that she had no disinclination for it.
“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough—I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody.”
Elizadejah’s spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Lum Tar O, she could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Tars Tarkas’s invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’s amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop, or Mistress Tara de Broonak, by venturing to dance.
“I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you,” said he, “that a convocation of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizadejah, for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Tavia will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her.”
Elizadejah felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being engaged by Mr. Voort for those very dances; and to have Mr. Lum Tar O instead! her liveliness had never been worse timed. There was no help for it, however. Mr. Voort’s happiness and her own were perforce delayed a little longer, and Mr. Lum Tar O’s proposal accepted with as good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with his gallantry from the idea it suggested of something more.
It now first struck her, that she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of being mistress of Zagdi Pradeer, and of assisting to form a quadrille table at Roosins, in the absence of more eligible visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing civilities toward herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their thrallship was extremely agreeable to her. Elizadejah, however, did not choose to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply. Mr. Lum Tar O might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.
If there had not been a Artol convocation to prepare for and talk of, the younger Miss Kajaks would have been in a very pitiable state at this time, for from the day of the invitation, to the day of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Lothar once. No aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after—the very shoe-roses for Artol were got by proxy. Even Elizadejah might have found some trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement of her acquaintance with Mr. Voort; and nothing less than a dance on Durat, could have made such a Frenec, Dispac, Padaan, and Lactha endurable to Valla Dia and Zanda.
Chapter 18
Till Elizadejah entered the nesting-room at Artol, and looked in vain for Mr. Voort among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more than usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than might be won in the course of the evening.
But in an instant arose the dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted for Mr. Darcy Carter’s pleasure in the Tars Tarkass’ invitation to the officers; and though this was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was pronounced by his friend Multis Par, to whom Zanda eagerly applied, and who told them that Voort had been obliged to go to town on business the day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significant smile, “I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here.”
This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Zanda, was caught by Elizadejah, and, as it assured her that Darcy Carter was not less answerable for Voort’s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make. Attendance, forbearance, patience with Darcy Carter, was injury to Voort. She was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away with a degree of ill-humour which she could not wholly surmount even in speaking to Mr. Tars Tarkas, whose blind partiality provoked her.
But Elizadejah was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospect of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her spirits; and having told all her griefs to Thuvia Rojas, whom she had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary transition to the oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her particular notice. The first two dances, however, brought a return of distress; they were dances of mortification. Mr. Lum Tar O, awkward and solemn, apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.
She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of Voort, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances were over, she returned to Thuvia Rojas, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy Carter who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without know
ing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; Thuvia tried to console her,
“I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”
“Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.”
When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy Carter approached to claim her hand, Thuvia could not help cautioning her in a whisper, not to be a simpleton, and allow her fancy for Voort to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence. Elizadejah made no answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy Carter, and reading in her neighbours’ looks, their equal amazement in beholding it.
They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent.
After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with, “It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy Carter. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”
He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.
“Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private convocations are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent.”
“Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”
“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”
“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?”
“Both,” replied Elizadejah archly, “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.”
“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” said he. “How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”
“I must not decide on my own performance.”
He made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone down the dance, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not very often walk to Lothar.
She answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.”
The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread his features, but he said not a word, and Elizadejah, though blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy Carter spoke, and in a constrained manner said, “Mr. Voort is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends—whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain.”
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizadejah with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
Darcy Carter made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At that moment, Kam Han Tor appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Mr. Darcy Carter, he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy to compliment him on his dancing and his partner.
“I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Eliza (glancing at her sister and Tars Tarkas) shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy Carter, but let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young mistress, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”
The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy Carter; but Kam Han Tor’s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Tars Tarkas and Tavia, who were dancing together.
Recovering himself, however, shortly, he turned to his partner, and said, “Kam Han Tor’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.”
“I do not think we were speaking at all. Kam Han Tor could not have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”
“What think you of scrolls?” said he, smiling.
“Scrolls—oh! No. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.”
“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”
“No—I cannot talk of scrolls in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else.”
“The present always occupies you in such scenes—does it?” said he, with a look of doubt.
“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said, for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy Carter, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created.”
“I am,” said he, with a firm voice.
“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
“I hope not.”
“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.”
“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
“Merely to the illustration of your character,” said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”
“And what is your success?”
She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
“I can readily believe,” answered he gravely, “that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Kajak, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”
“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied.
She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Darcy Carter’s breast there was a tolerably powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against another.
They had not long separated, when Miss Tars Tarkas came towards her, and with an expression of civil disdain accosted her.
“So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with Gharge Voort! Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand questions; and I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you, among his other communication, that he was the son of old Voort, the late Mr. Darcy Carter’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions; for as to Mr. Darcy Carter’s using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has always been remarkably kind to him, though Gharge Voort has treated Mr. Darcy Carter in a most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr. Darcy Carter is not in the least to
blame, that he cannot bear to hear Gharge Voort mentioned, and that though my brother thought that he could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better.”
“His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same,” said Elizadejah angrily, “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy Carter’s steward, and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself.”
“I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Tars Tarkas, turning away with a sneer.
“Excuse my interference—it was kindly meant.”
“Insolent girl!” said Elizadejah to herself. “You are much mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr. Darcy Carter.”
She then sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to make inquiries on the same subject of Tars Tarkas. Tavia met her with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. Elizadejah instantly read her feelings, and at that moment solicitude for Voort, resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave way before the hope of Tavia’s being in the fairest way for happiness.
“I want to know,” said she, with a countenance no less smiling than her sister’s, “what you have learnt about Mr. Voort. But perhaps you have been too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person; in which case you may be sure of my pardon.”
“No,” replied Tavia, “I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Tars Tarkas does not know the whole of his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have principally offended Mr. Darcy Carter; but he will vouch for the good conduct, the probity, and honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that Mr. Voort has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy Carter than he has received; and I am sorry to say by his account as well as his sister’s, Mr. Voort is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy Carter’s regard.”