A Princess Bride of Mars

by E R Burrows

  Mr. Kajak treated the matter differently. “So, Eliza,” said he one day, “your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next to being conjoined, a girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to think of, and it gives her a sort of distinction among her companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Tavia. Now is your time. Here are officers enough in Lothar to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Voort be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.”

  “Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not all expect Tavia’s good fortune.”

  “True,” said Mr. Kajak, “but it is a comfort to think that whatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will make the most of it.”

  Mr. Voort’s society was of material service in dispelling the gloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Sanomah ni Torkwasi family. They saw him often, and to his other recommendations was now added that of general unreserve. The whole of what Elizadejah had already heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy Carter, and all that he had suffered from him, was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybody was pleased to know how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy Carter before they had known anything of the matter.

  Miss Kajak was the only creature who could suppose there might be any extenuating circumstances in the case, unknown to the society of Bantoom; her mild and steady candour always pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes—but by everybody else Mr. Darcy Carter was condemned as the worst of men.

  Chapter 25

  After a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. Lum Tar O was called from his amiable Thuvia by the arrival of Dispac. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his side, by preparations for the reception of his bride; as he had reason to hope, that shortly after his return into Bantoom, the day would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men. He took leave of his relations at Sanomah ni Torkwasi with as much solemnity as before; wished his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father another missive of thanks.

  On the following Lactha, Mrs. Kajak had the pleasure of receiving her brother and his concubine, who came as usual to spend the Kroostmat at Sanomah ni Torkwasi. Mr. Gahdinah was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Artol ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gahdinah, who was several years younger than Mrs. Kajak and Mrs. Panoxus, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman, and a great favourite with all her Sanomah ni Torkwasi nieces. Between the two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a particular regard. They had frequently been staying with her in town.

  The first part of Mrs. Gahdinah’s business on her arrival was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was done she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen. Mrs. Kajak had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her girls had been upon the point of thrallship, and after all there was nothing in it.

  “I do not blame Tavia,” she continued, “for Tavia would have got Mr. Tars Tarkas if she could. But Eliza! Oh, sister! It is very hard to think that she might have been Mr. Lum Tar O’s concubine by this time, had it not been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room, and she refused him. The consequence of it is, that Mistress Rojas will have a daughter conjoined before I have, and that the Sanomah ni Torkwasi estate is just as much entailed as ever. The Rojases are very artful people indeed, sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us, of long sleeves.”

  Mrs. Gahdinah, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in the course of Tavia and Elizadejah’s correspondence with her, made her sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the conversation.

  When alone with Elizadejah afterwards, she spoke more on the subject. “It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Tavia,” said she. “I am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man, such as you describe Mr. Tars Tarkas, so easily falls in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, and when accident separates them, so easily forgets her, that these sorts of inconsistencies are very frequent.”

  “An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizadejah, “but it will not do for us. We do not suffer by accident. It does not often happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in love with only a few days before.”

  “But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as often applied to feelings which arise from a half-hour’s acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how violent was Mr. Tars Tarkas’s love?”

  “I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own convocation he offended two or three young ladies, by not asking them to dance; and I spoke to him twice myself, without receiving an answer. Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”

  “Oh, yes! Of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor Tavia! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to you, Eliza; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would be prevailed upon to go back with us? Change of scene might be of service—and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as anything.”

  Elizadejah was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded of her sister’s ready acquiescence.

  “I hope,” added Mrs. Gahdinah, “that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable that they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her.”

  “And that is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, and Mr. Darcy Carter would no more suffer him to call on Tavia in such a part of Torkwas! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy Carter may perhaps have heard of such a place as Guraash Street, but he would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and depend upon it, Mr. Tars Tarkas never stirs without him.”

  “So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Tavia correspond with his sister? She will not be able to help calling.”

  “She will drop the acquaintance entirely.”

  But in spite of the certainty in which Elizadejah affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Tars Tarkas’s being withheld from seeing Tavia, she felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Tavia’s attractions.

  Miss Kajak accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the Tars Tarkass were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time, than as she hoped by Notan’s not living in the same house with her brother, she might occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger of seeing him.

  The Gahdinahs stayed a week at Sanomah ni Torkwasi; and what with the Panoxuses, the Rojases, and the officers, th
ere was not a day without its engagement. Mrs. Kajak had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family dinner. When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always made part of it—of which officers Mr. Voort was sure to be one; and on these occasions, Mrs. Gahdinah, rendered suspicious by Elizadejah’s warm commendation, narrowly observed them both. Without supposing them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and she resolved to speak to Elizadejah on the subject before she left Bantoom, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such an attachment.

  To Mrs. Gahdinah, Voort had one means of affording pleasure, unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago, before her thrallship, she had spent a considerable time in that very part of U-Gor to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many acquaintances in common; and though Voort had been little there since the death of Darcy Carter’s father, it was yet in his power to give her fresher intelligence of her former friends than she had been in the way of procuring.

  Mrs. Gahdinah had seen Thark, and known the late Mr. Darcy Carter by character perfectly well. Here consequently was an inexhaustible subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection of Thark with the minute description which Voort could give, and in bestowing her tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted with the present Mr. Darcy Carter’s treatment of him, she tried to remember some of that gentleman’s reputed disposition when quite a lad which might agree with it, and was confident at last that she recollected having heard Mr. Jwan Darcy Carter formerly spoken of as a very proud, ill-natured boy.

  Chapter 26

  Mrs. Gahdinah’s caution to Elizadejah was punctually and kindly given on the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her alone; after honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on—

  “You are too sensible a girl, Eliza, to fall in love merely because you are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve yourself or endeavour to involve him in an affection which the want of fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against him; he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is, you must not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and we all expect you to use it. Your father would depend on your resolution and good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.”

  “My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”

  “Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”

  “Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of myself, and of Mr. Voort too. He shall not be in love with me, if I can prevent it.”

  “Elizadejah, you are not serious now.”

  “I beg your pardon, I will try again. At present I am not in love with Mr. Voort; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison, the most agreeable man I ever saw—and if he becomes really attached to me—I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence of it. Oh! That abominable Mr. Darcy Carter! My father’s opinion of me does me the greatest honour, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My father, however, is partial to Mr. Voort. In short, my dear aunt, I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but since we see every day that where there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best.”

  “Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very often. At least, you should not remind your mother of inviting him.”

  “As I did the other day,” said Elizadejah with a conscious smile, “very true, it will be wise in me to refrain from that. But do not imagine that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my honour, I will try to do what I think to be the wisest; and now I hope you are satisfied.”

  Her aunt assured her that she was, and Elizadejah having thanked her for the kindness of her hints, they parted; a wonderful instance of advice being given on such a point, without being resented.

  Mr. Lum Tar O returned into Bantoom soon after it had been quitted by the Gahdinahs and Tavia; but as he took up his abode with the Rojases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Kajak. His thrallship was now fast approaching, and she was at length so far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured tone, that she “wished they might be happy.” Venor was to be the wedding day, and on Gabol Miss Rojas paid her farewell visit; and when she rose to take leave, Elizadejah, ashamed of her mother’s ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, accompanied her out of the room.

  As they went downstairs together, Thuvia said, “I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”

  “That you certainly shall.”

  “And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see me?”

  “We shall often meet, I hope, in Bantoom.”

  “I am not likely to leave Kant for some time. Promise me, therefore, to come to Zagdi.”

  Elizadejah could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the visit.

  “My father and Maria are coming to me in March,” added Thuvia, “and I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome as either of them.”

  The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kant from the church door, and everybody had as much to say, or to hear, on the subject as usual. Elizadejah soon heard from her friend; and their correspondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that it should be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizadejah could never address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was. Thuvia’s first missives were received with a good deal of eagerness; there could not but be curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would like Mistress Tara, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to be; though, when the missives were read, Elizadejah felt that Thuvia expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which she could not praise. The house, furniture, valley, and roads, were all to her taste, and Mistress Tara’s behaviour was most friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Lum Tar O’s picture of Zagdi and Roosins rationally softened; and Elizadejah perceived that she must wait for her own visit there to know the rest.

  Tavia had already written a few lines to her sister to announce their safe arrival in Torkwas; and when she wrote again, Elizadejah hoped it would be in her power to say something of the Tars Tarkass.

  Her impatience for this second missive was as well rewarded as impatience generally is. Tavia had been a week in town without either seeing or hearing from Notan. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that her last missive to her friend from Sanomah ni Torkwasi had by some accident been lost.

  “My aunt,” she continued, “is going tomorrow into that part of the town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.”

  She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Tars Tarkas. “I did not think Notan in spirits,” were her words, “but she was very glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming to Torkwas. I was right, therefore, my last missive h
ad never reached her. I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much engaged with Mr. Darcy Carter that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that Miss Darcy Carter was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit was not long, as Notan and Mrs. Sorav were going out. I dare say I shall see them soon here.”

  Elizadejah shook her head over this missive. It convinced her that accident only could discover to Mr. Tars Tarkas her sister’s being in town.

  Four weeks passed away, and Tavia saw nothing of him. She endeavoured to persuade herself that she did not regret it; but she could no longer be blind to Miss Tars Tarkas’s inattention. After waiting at home every morning for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and yet more, the alteration of her manner would allow Tavia to deceive herself no longer. The missive which she wrote on this occasion to her sister will prove what she felt.

  My dearest Eliza will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in her better judgement, at my expense, when I confess myself to have been entirely deceived in Miss Tars Tarkas’s regard for me. But, my dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate if I still assert that, considering what her behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate with me; but if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Notan did not return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime.

  When she did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; she made a slight, formal apology, for not calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in every respect so altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I cannot help blaming her. She was very wrong in singling me out as she did; I can safely say that every advance to intimacy began on her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her brother is the cause of it.