The Master of the Ceremonies
Page 22
beendisposed to slight me and refuse my offices will now be at my feet. Abrilliant match for you, and a high position in the world of fashion."
"Father!"
"Hush, child, and listen. The position of both of you is assured; apeaceful and more prosperous fortune for me! The few trifles I ask for:my snuff, a glass of port--one only--my cutlet, a suit of clothes when Idesire a change, without an insulting reference to an old bill, thedeference of tradespeople, freedom from debt. Claire, at last, atlast!"
"Oh, papa!" cried the girl, with the tears welling over and droppingslowly from her beautiful eyes, while her sweet mouth seemed alla-tremble, and her agitated hands were stretched out to clasp the oldman's arm.
But he waved her off.
"Don't, don't, Claire," he said quickly. "See there. I do detest tohave my coat spotted. It is so foolish and weak."
Claire smiled--a sweet, sad smile--as she drew a clean cambrichandkerchief from the pocket of her apron, shook it out, showing a longslit and a series of careful darns, removed the pearly drop before ithad time to soak the cloth, and exclaimed:
"Then the town has conferred a salary upon you?"
"Pah! As if I would condescend to take it, girl!" cried the old man,drawing himself up more stiffly.
"A legacy?"
The Master of the Ceremonies shook his head.
"A commission for Morton?"
"No, no, no."
"Then--"
The old man waved his cane with a graceful flourish, placed it in thehand that held his snuff-box, opened the latter, and, after tapping it,took a pinch, as if it were a matter calling forth long study ofdeportment to perform, closed the box with a loud snap, and said, in ahaughty, affected tone:
"Half an hour since, on a well-filled parade, I encountered His RoyalHighness and a group of friends."
He paused, and took out a silk handkerchief, embroidered here and therewith purple flowers by his child.
"And then--"
There was a flourish of the handkerchief, and the flicking away ofimaginary specks from the tightly-buttoned coat.
"His Royal Highness--"
"Yes, papa," said Claire piteously, as he looked at her as if asking herattention.
At that moment Morton entered, looking weary and discontented; but,seeing his father's peculiar look, he checked the words he was about tosay, and watched his face as he gave his handkerchief another flourish,replaced it, and took his cane from his left hand to twirl itgracefully.
"His Royal Highness shook hands with me."
"Oh!" exclaimed Morton, while Claire's brow grew more rugged.
"Shook hands with you, father?" said Morton eagerly.
"And asked me for a pinch of snuff."
There was a dead silence in the room as Claire clasped her handstogether and trembled, and seemed about to speak, but dared not; whileMorton screwed up his mouth to whistle, but refrained, looking halfcontemptuously at his father the while.
"Fortune has thrown a magnificent chance in our way."
"I say, dad, what do you mean with your magnificent chance?"
"I have hopes, too, for Claire. I cannot say much yet, but I have greathopes," he continued, ignoring the question of his son.
"Oh, papa!"
"Yes, my child, I have. I can say no more now, but I have hopes."
Claire's careworn face grew more cloudy as she uttered a low sigh.
"But look here, father; what do you mean," repeated Morton, "by yourmagnificent chance?"
The Master of the Ceremonies coughed behind one delicate hand, brushed afew imaginary specks from his sleeve, then took out his snuff-box, andrefreshed himself with a pinch in a very elaborate way.
"You are a man now, Morton, and I will speak plainly to you, as I havebefore now spoken plainly to your sisters. My only hope for the futureis to see you both make good marriages."
"Why, that won't send you to heaven, father," said the lad, grinning.
"I mean my--our--earthly future, sir," said the old man. "This is notime for ribald jest. Remember your duty to me, sir, and follow out mywishes."
"Oh, very well, father," said Morton sulkily.
"But, papa dear, you surely do not think of Morton marrying," saidClaire anxiously.
"And why not, madam, pray? Younger men have married before now, evenprinces and kings, when it was politically necessary, at twelve andfifteen; my memory does not serve me at the moment for names, but letthat pass."
"But have you any fixed ideas upon the subject, papa?"
"My dear Claire! How dense you are! Did I not tell you about Morton'sprovidential rescue of Lady Drelincourt's favourite, and of herimpassioned admiration of his bravery? She saw him at greatdisadvantage then; but I am going to arrange with--er--one of theprincipal tailors, and Morton must now take his place amongst the bestdressed bucks on the Parade. With his manly young person, and a fewtouches in deportment that I can give him, his prospect is sure, I willanswer for it."
"Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!" roared Morton, bursting out into a fit ofuncontrollable laughter.
"Morton!" and the old man turned round fiercely.
"Why, you don't want me to marry that old female Guy Fawkes, father!"
"Morton! my son! you grieve and pain me. How dare you speak like thatof a leader of society--a lady of title, sir--of great wealth. Why, herdiamonds are magnificent. I will be plain with you. You have only toplay your cards well, and in due course others will be issued--MrMorton Denville and the Countess of Drelincourt."
"Why, father, all the fellows would laugh at me."
"Sir, a man with horses, carriages, servants, a town mansion and countryseat, and a large income can laugh at the world."
"Oh, yes, of course, father; but she's fifty or sixty, and I'm nottwenty."
"What has that to do with it, sir! How often do men of sixty marrygirls of seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen?"
"But she paints, and wears false hair."
"Matters of which every gentleman, sir, would be profoundly ignorant asregards a lady of title."
"But, papa dear, surely you are not serious?" said Claire, who hadlistened with horror painted in every feature.
"I was never more serious in my life, child. Lady Drelincourt is notyoung, but she is a most amiable woman, with no other weakness than alove for play."
"And little beasts of dogs," said Morton contemptuously.
"Of course, because there is a void in her womanly heart. That void, myson, you must try and fill."
"Oh, nonsense, father!"
"Nonsense! Morton, are you mad? Are you going to throw away a fortune,and a great position in society? Of course, I do not say that such anevent will follow, but it is time you began to assert your position.You did well the other day on the pier."
"Yes," said Morton with a sneer. "I fished out a dog. Now Dick Linnelldid something worth--"
"Silence, sir! Do not mention his name in my presence, I beg," said theold man sternly; and he left the house.
"Well, I tell you what it is, Sis," said Morton, speaking from thewindow, where he had gone to see his father mince by, "the old dadhasn't been right since that night. I think he's going off his head."
There was no reply, and, turning round, it was to find that he wasalone, for Claire, unable to bear the strain longer, had glided from theroom.
Volume One, Chapter XIX.
MISS CLODE'S HERO.
No one would have called Miss Clode pretty, "but there were traces," asthe Master of the Ceremonies said. She was thin and middle-aged now,but she had once been a very charming woman; and, though theproprietress of the circulating library at Saltinville, a keen observerwould have said that she was a lady.
Richard Linnell entered her shop on the morning after the carriageaccident, and a curious flush came into her little thin face. There wasa light in her eye that seemed to make the worn, jaded face pleasanterto look upon, and it seemed as if something of the little faded woman'strue nature was peeping out.
&n
bsp; She did not look like the little go-between in scores of flirtations andintrigues; but as if the natural love of her nature had come to thesurface, from where it generally lay latent, and her eyes seemed to say:
"Ah, if I could have married, and had a son like that."
It is the fashion, nowadays, for ladies to attempt a strong-minded_role_, and profess to despise the tyrant man; to take to college lifeand professorship; to cry aloud and shout for woman's rights andindependence; for votes and the entry to the school board, vestry, andthe Parliamentary bench; when all the time Nature says in her gentle butinflexible way: "Foolish women; it was not for these things that youwere made to tread