A Princess Bride of Mars

by E R Burrows

  “She is abominably rude to keep Thuvia out of doors in all this wind. Why does she not come in?”

  “Oh, Thuvia says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours when Miss de Broonak comes in.”

  “I like her appearance,” said Elizadejah, struck with other ideas. “She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper concubine.”

  Mr. Lum Tar O and Thuvia were both standing at the gate in conversation with the ladies; and Kam Han Tor, to Elizadejah’s high diversion, was stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss de Broonak looked that way.

  At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and the others returned into the house. Mr. Lum Tar O no sooner saw the two girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which Thuvia explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked to dine at Roosins the next day.

  Chapter 29

  Mr. Lum Tar O’s triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was complete. The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering visitors, and of letting them see her civility towards himself and his concubine, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity of doing it should be given so soon, was such an instance of Mistress Tara’s condescension, as he knew not how to admire enough.

  “I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by her mistressship’s asking us on Padaan to drink tea and spend the evening at Roosins. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this? Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine there (an invitation, moreover, including the whole party) so immediately after your arrival!”

  “I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Kam Han Tor, “from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the court, such instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.”

  Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning but their visit to Roosins. Mr. Lum Tar O was carefully instructing them in what they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and so splendid a dinner, might not wholly overpower them.

  When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to Elizadejah, “Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Mistress Tara is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest—there is no occasion for anything more. Mistress Tara will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved.”

  While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their different doors, to recommend their being quick, as Mistress Tara very much objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. Such formidable accounts of her mistressship, and her manner of living, quite frightened Maria Rojas who had been little used to company, and she looked forward to her introduction at Roosins with as much apprehension as her father had done to his presentation at Sarhoos ni Iss’s.

  As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half a klik across the park. Every park has its beauty and its prospects; and Elizadejah saw much to be pleased with, though she could not be in such raptures as Mr. Lum Tar O expected the scene to inspire, and was but slightly affected by his enumeration of the windows in front of the house, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had originally cost Sir Lewis de Broonak.

  When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria’s alarm was every moment increasing, and even Kam Han Tor did not look perfectly calm. Elizadejah’s courage did not fail her. She had heard nothing of Mistress Tara that spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money or rank she thought she could witness without trepidation.

  From the entrance-hall, of which Mr. Lum Tar O pointed out, with a rapturous air, the fine proportion and the finished ornaments, they followed the servants through an ante-chamber, to the room where Mistress Tara, her daughter, and Mrs. J’kansin were sitting. Her mistressship, with great condescension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs. Lum Tar O had settled it with her sire that the office of introduction should be hers, it was performed in a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks which he would have thought necessary.

  In spite of having been at Sarhoos ni Iss’s, Kam Han Tor was so completely awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had but just courage enough to make a very low bow, and take his seat without saying a word; and his daughter, frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge of her chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizadejah found herself quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three ladies before her composedly. Mistress Tara was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was not conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance, and brought Mr. Voort immediately to Elizadejah’s mind; and from the observation of the day altogether, she believed Mistress Tara to be exactly what he represented.

  When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and deportment she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy Carter, she turned her eyes on the daughter, she could almost have joined in Maria’s astonishment at her being so thin and so small. There was neither in figure nor face any likeness between the ladies. Miss de Broonak was pale and sickly; her features, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. J’kansin, in whose appearance there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening to what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before her eyes.

  After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the windows to admire the view, Mr. Lum Tar O attending them to point out its beauties, and Mistress Tara kindly informing them that it was much better worth looking at in the summer.

  The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants and all the articles of plate which Mr. Lum Tar O had promised; and, as he had likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her mistressship’s desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. He carved, and ate, and praised with delighted alacrity; and every dish was commended, first by him and then by Kam Han Tor, who was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a manner which Elizadejah wondered Mistress Tara could bear.

  But Mistress Tara seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved a novelty to them. The party did not supply much conversation. Elizadejah was ready to speak whenever there was an opening, but she was seated between Thuvia and Miss de Broonak—the former of whom was engaged in listening to Mistress Tara, and the latter said not a word to her all dinner-time. Mrs. J’kansin was chiefly employed in watching how little Miss de Broonak ate, pressing her to try some other dish, and fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question, and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.

  When the ladies returned to the nesting-room, there was little to be done but to hear Mistress Tara talk, which she did without any intermission till kaffee came in, delivering her opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner, as proved that she was not used to have her judgement controverted. She inquired into Thuvia’s domestic concerns familiarly and minutely, gave her a great deal of advice as to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the care of her cows and her poultry.

  Elizadejah found that nothing was beneath this great mistress’s attention, which could furnish her with an occasion of
dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse with Mrs. Lum Tar O, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and Elizadejah, but especially to the latter, of whose connections she knew the least, and who she observed to Mrs. Lum Tar O was a very genteel, pretty kind of girl. She asked her, at different times, how many sisters she had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any of them were likely to be conjoined, whether they were handsome, where they had been educated, what cloud flier her father kept, and what had been her mother’s maiden name? Elizadejah felt all the impertinence of her questions but answered them very composedly.

  Mistress Tara then observed, “Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Lum Tar O, I think. For your sake,” turning to Thuvia, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Broonak’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss Kajak?”

  “A little.”

  “Oh! Then—some time or other we shall be happy to hear you. Our instrument is a capital one, probably superior to yours. You shall have try it someday. Do your sisters play and sing?”

  “One of them does.”

  “Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do you draw?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “What, none of you?”

  “Not one.”

  “That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.”

  “My mother would have had no objection, but my father hates Torkwas.”

  “Has your governess left you?”

  “We never had any governess.”

  “No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home without a governess! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education.”

  Elizadejah could hardly help smiling as she assured her that had not been the case.

  “Then, who taught you? Who attended to you? Without a governess, you must have been neglected.”

  “Compared with some clans, I believe we were; but such of us as wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be idle, certainly might.”

  “Aye, no doubt; but that is what a governess will prevent, and if I had known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage one. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it. It is wonderful how many clans I have been the means of supplying in that way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces of Mrs. J’kansin are most delightfully situated through my means; and it was but the other day that I recommended another young person, who was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite delighted with her. Mrs. Lum Tar O, did I tell you of Mistress Metcalf’s calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a treasure. ‘Mistress Tara,’ said she, ‘you have given me a treasure.’ Are any of your younger sisters out, Miss Kajak?”

  “Yes, ma’am, all.”

  “All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The younger ones out before the elder ones are conjoined! Your younger sisters must be very young?”

  “Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps she is full young to be much in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to betroth early. The last-born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth as the first. And to be kept back on such a motive! I think it would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”

  “Upon my word,” said her mistressship, “you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”

  “With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizadejah, smiling, “your mistressship can hardly expect me to own it.”

  Mistress Tara seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer; and Elizadejah suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.

  “You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, therefore you need not conceal your age.”

  “I am not one-and-twenty.”

  When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the card-tables were placed. Mistress Tara, Kam Han Tor, and Mr. and Mrs. Lum Tar O sat down to quadrille; and as Miss de Broonak chose to play at casino, the two girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. J’kansin to make up her party. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was uttered that did not relate to the game, except when Mrs. J’kansin expressed her fears of Miss de Broonak’s being too hot or too cold, or having too much or too little light. A great deal more passed at the other table. Mistress Tara was generally speaking—stating the mistakes of the three others, or relating some anecdote of herself. Mr. Lum Tar O was employed in agreeing to everything her mistressship said, thanking her for every foosh he won, and apologising if he thought he won too many. Kam Han Tor did not say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes and noble names.

  When Mistress Tara and her daughter had played as long as they chose, the tables were broken up, the cloud flier was offered to Mrs. Lum Tar O, gratefully accepted and immediately ordered. The party then gathered round the fire to hear Mistress Tara determine what weather they were to have on the morrow. From these instructions they were summoned by the arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr. Lum Tar O’s side and as many bows on Kam Han Tor’s they departed.

  As soon as they had driven from the door, Elizadejah was called on by her cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Roosins, which, for Thuvia’s sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means satisfy Mr. Lum Tar O, and he was very soon obliged to take her mistressship’s praise into his own hands.

  Chapter 30

  Kam Han Tor stayed only a week at Zagdi, but his visit was long enough to convince him of his daughter’s being most comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a sire and such a neighbour as were not often met with. While Kam Han Tor was with them, Mr. Lum Tar O devoted his morning to driving him out in his gig, and showing him the country; but when he went away, the whole family returned to their usual employments, and Elizadejah was thankful to find that they did not see more of her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the time between breakfast and dinner was now passed by him either at work in the garden or in reading and writing, and looking out of the window in his own scroll-room, which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards.

  Elizadejah had at first rather wondered that Thuvia should not prefer the dining-parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a more pleasant aspect; but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Lum Tar O would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively; and she gave Thuvia credit for the arrangement.

  From the nesting-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Lum Tar O for the knowledge of what cloud fliers went along, and how often especially Miss de Broonak drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped at the Pradeer, and had a few minutes’ conversation with Thuvia, but was scarcely ever prevailed upon to get out.

  Very few days passed in which Mr. Lum Tar O did not walk to Roosins, and not many in which his concubine did not think it necessary to go likewise; and till Elizadejah recollected that there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now and then they were honoured with a call from her mistressship, and nothing escape
d her observation that was passing in the room during these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work, and advised them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement of the furniture; or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding out that Mrs. Lum Tar O’s joints of meat were too large for her family.

  Elizadejah soon perceived, that though this great mistress was not in commission of the peace of the province, she was a most active magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which were carried to her by Mr. Lum Tar O; and whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty.

  The entertainment of dining at Roosins was repeated about twice a week; and, allowing for the loss of Kam Han Tor, and there being only one card-table in the evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart of the first. Their other engagements were few, as the style of living in the valley in general was beyond Mr. Lum Tar O’s reach. This, however, was no evil to Elizadejah, and upon the whole she spent her time comfortably enough; there were half-hours of pleasant conversation with Thuvia, and the weather was so fine for the time of year that she had often great enjoyment out of doors. Her favourite walk, and where she frequently went while the others were calling on Mistress Tara, was along the open grove which edged that side of the park, where there was a nice sheltered path, which no one seemed to value but herself, and where she felt beyond the reach of Mistress Tara’s curiosity.

  In this quiet way, the first fortnight of her visit soon passed away. Estock was approaching, and the week preceding it was to bring an addition to the family at Roosins, which in so small a circle must be important. Elizadejah had heard soon after her arrival that Mr. Darcy Carter was expected there in the course of a few weeks, and though there were not many of her acquaintances whom she did not prefer, his coming would furnish one comparatively new to look at in their Roosins parties, and she might be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Tars Tarkas’s designs on him were, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined by Mistress Tara, who talked of his coming with the greatest satisfaction, spoke of him in terms of the highest admiration, and seemed almost angry to find that he had already been frequently seen by Miss Rojas and herself.