“It is a capital organ,”
“I don’t see how you can tell,” said Wilmott drily, “singing as you were at the top of your voices.”
“Oh, James, you are a cross old thing!” cried Adeline, going to his side.
“Well, you seem to have a service in full swing,” came a voice from the door.
It was Dr. Ramsey. He entered and, after inspecting the new acquisitions, said — “Congratulate me. Lydia Busby and I are to be married.”
Adeline clapped her hands. “Splendid! I’ve seen it coming. Oh, I am glad!”
“A delightful girl,” said Philip. “I congratulate you most sincerely.”
Wilmott came forward and added his more guarded felicitations.
“It will be the first ceremony in the church,” said the doctor. “We want to be married without delay.”
“No,” said Philip. “My son’s christening is to be the first.”
“And we cannot have him christened,” added Adeline, “till my parents arrive from Ireland.”
Dr. Ramsey regarded the Whiteoaks truculently. “Do you mean to say that my marriage must be postponed to give way to your child’s christening?”
“I am sorry,” said Philip. “But I am afraid that is so.”
“Then you consider that you own this church?” exclaimed Dr. Ramsey, his colour mounting.
“Well, not exactly,” said Philip.
“I suppose,” said the doctor, “that Lydia and I can be married somewhere else. There is a church at Stead.”
“No need to get huffy,” said Philip.
“I’m not huffy. I’m simply astonished that I should be asked to postpone my wedding ceremony for the baptism of an infant.”
Adeline folded her arms across her breast and faced the doctor.
“I should think,” she said, “that as you brought the infant into the world, you would show a little consideration for him.”
Dr. Ramsey had nothing to say in reply to this.
Adeline continued — “And, if I know Lydia Busby, she will want time for her preparations and not to be rushed to the altar as though there were need for urgency.”
Again Dr. Ramsey could think of nothing to say.
As they stood staring at each other they little thought that her unborn son was to marry his unborn daughter and that these two were to become the parents of a future master of Jalna.
The embarrassing situation was pushed aside by the entrance of Conway, Sholto, and Mary, from the vestry. Sholto at once mounted the pulpit and, with a sanctimonious expression, intoned: —
“In the beginning God created the Courts.”
“Come down out of that, you young rascal,” said Philip.
But Sholto continued — “And God saw that the Courts were good. And later on God created the Whiteoaks. And the son of the Whiteoaks looked on the daughter of the Courts and he perceived that, though ill-favoured, she was lusty, and he took her to wed.”
Now Mr. Pink also entered from the vestry. He came up behind Sholto and lifted him bodily from the pulpit and deposited him on the floor.
“It is well for you, my boy,” he said, “that the church is not yet consecrated but, as it is, I must severely censure you for making light of the Holy Scriptures.”
“I was just telling him to stop it,” said Philip.
Adeline exclaimed, to cover her brother’s delinquency: —
“Oh, Mr. Pink, you should have come sooner and heard Philip and me singing a hymn!”
Coming to her aid Wilmott added — “The organ has an excellent tone, sir. Should you like to hear me play on it?”
In the vestry a carpenter began loudly to saw and, in the vestibule, another to hammer. Peace was restored.
XXIII
A VARIETY OF SCENES
ADELINE’S PARENTS ARRIVED three weeks later. They were just in time for the ceremony of consecrating the new church. After the service the Bishop spent the night at Jalna. There had been a large dinner party and the neighborhood was happily excited. It was agreed that the church was handsome, the Bishop affable, and that Mr. Court and Lady Honoria were the most perfectly bred, good-humoured and likeable people imaginable.
This praise included Adeline’s brother, Esmond Court, who had accompanied his parents without any previous warning. It seemed that they had had no time to write because Lady Honoria had decided only at the last moment to bring him. As Conway, who was not nearly so attractive, had picked up a quite well-off Canadian girl, Lady Honoria saw no reason why Esmond should not do even better for himself. He was the opposite of his two brothers already at Jalna, being dark and handsome, with a resemblance to Adeline. He made himself very agreeable to Philip but Philip could not help but feeling that six of his wife’s relations in the house at one time was rather a lot.
Some days after his arrival, Renny Court took to his bed with an attack of lumbago. He might have been the first sufferer from that ailment, so loud were his complaints and so convinced was he that it would be the end of him. He constantly demanded applications from without and doses from within so that the house was in a ferment of attendance on him. However, when he at last threw off the attack, his cure was complete. He first appeared downstairs supported on either side by Lady Honoria and Adeline. They progressed along the hall to the dining room with him leaning heavily on them, while he now and again uttered ejaculations of pain. The rest of the family followed with expressions of commiseration. But once he was seated at table with the roast quail on toast in front of him, with a glass of excellent claret by his plate, he was himself again. He was delighted by everything. If he had said things in disparagement of Canada, he now took them back. Jalna was a marvel of achievement. When he was sufficiently recovered to inspect the estate with Philip, he could not say too much in praise of its shipshapeness. There was nothing he liked so much to see as a place in good order and Philip was forced to admit that any suggestions he had to make were excellent.
As for Lady Honoria, the visit was one long happiness to her. To see her daughter so well established, where she had feared to find her in a wilderness, was a joy. To be reunited to her younger sons, even though they gave her so much worry, was a satisfaction. Above all, her grandchildren were a delight to her. Gussie was so intelligent, already so womanly in her ways, that she was a pleasing companion. To be sure, she had a temper but what Court had not? She and Nicholas did a good deal of hair-pulling. But what a darling he was! And Ernest was an enchanting baby. He seemed to know that he was to be the centre of attraction in the next party.
Lady Honoria herself seemed rejuvenated by the acquisition of the new tooth, a miracle of denstistry. She looked more like a sister to Adeline than a mother. In the exhilarating October weather, with the countryside aflame in scarlet and gold, she inspected the flower border and kitchen garden in the making. The little goat, on whose neck she had tied the bell, seemed to remember her for it followed her everywhere. She would collect the most brilliant of the autumn leaves to take back to Ireland with her. She herself originated a design of them for a mantel drape she was embroidering for Adeline. As for the church, Lady Honoria was never tired of doing things for its embellishment. Before she left home, she had embroidered an Easter altar cloth in a design of lilies, and also a beautiful stole for Mr. Pink. Now, out of her own slender purse, she had ordered a crimson cushion and four crimson hassocks for the Whiteoak pew. Sometimes she and little Augusta would go to church together and wander happily about it. Gussie was so good you could trust her anywhere. When the little girl grew up and even when she was an old woman, she could remember this companionship between herself and her grandmother and could recall Lady Honoria’s lovely smile quite clearly.
Jalna was teeming with vitality and Esmond Court had added a large share of it. He had a talent for bringing out the liveliness of others. He was pleased with himself and the world from morning to night, unless he were crossed, when he would display a most violent temper. But it was soon over. Philip had an exhibition of th
is in a fencing contest between Esmond and Mr. Court. Both were expert fencers and were giving an exhibition of their skill in the library. Suddenly something went wrong. It was a question of rules. An argument broke out. The faces of the fencers became masks of fury. Each set about demonstrating his own point of view. The foils flashed. It seemed for a moment that one or the other would be pierced to the vitals. Lady Honoria and Adeline shrieked. Mary turned faint. Recklessly Conway and Sholto flung themselves between the fencers. To Philip’s astonishment the storm subsided as suddenly as it had arisen. With Sholto still clinging to him, Esmond apologized to his father and was forgiven but he was still trembling with anger, while Renny Court’s hard features showed a triumphant gring.
“Oh, Dada,” cried Adeline, “ you were by far the most to blame! You nearly ran Esmond through!”
He made a grimace of annoyance. “Always against me, aren’t you, Adeline? If my son cut me piecemeal you’d declare I was to blame!”
“Well, well,” said his wife. “It’s all over and do put those nasty swords away, children.”
In these days almost all of Adeline’s time was given to preparation for the christening. It tuned out that Lydia Busby was quite willing to wait till that event was past, before marrying. On his part, Dr. Ramsey was anxious to hasten the event, so that he might join the shooting party Philip was organizing for his father-in-law. Renny Court was eager to make such an expedition for the sake of seeing the Northern wilds and such deer, elk, moose, bears, wildcats, or apes as might inhabit them. As his visit drew on he became less complimentary about the country.
Lady Honoria had a friendship of many years with Lord Elgin, now Governor-General of Canada. His duties had brought him to Kingston and, having received a letter from Lady Honoria, he was willing to extend his journey westward in order to renew their friendship and to act as godfather to her grandson. He arrived at Jalna on the day before the christening, a handsome gentleman of strong will who had a liberal and emphatic interest in the country. A few years before he had been the centre of a storm, when he had, as the English Canadians thought, favoured the French. In Montreal he had been attacked with stones and his carriage badly broken and battered. But he had come through the trouble victorious and was now the most popular man in the entire country. He seemed not at all tired by his journey and he and Lady Honoria made lively conversation, talking of mutual friends. All was easy and natural. Even the weather, when the morning of the christening came, was perfect, a summer-like warmth blessing the autumn brilliance of the woods. Carriages conveyed the party from house to church where windows and door stood open and Wilmott, in his best, broadcloth, was already seated at the organ.
The church was half-filled with invited guests, for the Whiteoaks by this time had a large acquaintance. To be sure, the church was small and it did not take a crowd to fill it. Soon the vacant pews were overflowing with the country folk who had come from far and near to have a glimpse of Lord Elgin. Never had there been such a christening in those parts. The centre of it all lay dozing in his mother’s arms, his long, tucked, embroidered and lace-trimmed robe almost touching the floor. His cape, his bonnet, were a marvel of elegance and intricacy. His two pink hands, with fingers extended like starfish, lay helpless as though washed up on the expanse of satin. In addition to Lord Elgin, Colonel Vaughan and Captain Lacey were godfathers and Mrs. Vaughan his godmother. Surely no godmother ever looked more benign than she, in her lavender silk with her prematurely white hair in full waves beneath her flowered bonnet! Adeline placed the infant in her arms and she stood, flanked by the three godfathers, facing Mr. Pink across the font. This font, which was her gift to the church, was a handsome one and Ernest was the first child to be marked with the sign of the cross from its blessed brim. Adeline and Philip, with her parents and brothers, stood in a group near by. Lady Honoria held Gussie by the hand and Gussie’s other hand held Nicholas. The two were dressed alike, in short-sleeved low-necked frocks with pale blue shoulder knots and fringed blue sashes. As a matter of truth they looked so lovely that even the presence of Lord Elgin was overshadowed by them.
Mr. Pink’s sonorous voice now came: —
“Dearly beloved, forasmuch as all men are conceived and born in sin; and that our Saviour Christ saith, none can enter into the Kingdom of God, except he be regenerate and born anew of water and of The Holy Ghost … ” The service proceeded, the congregation taking their part, according to the ancient form. At last Mr. Pink, turning to the godparents, asked the prescribed and searching questions regarding the spiritual convictions of Ernest Whiteoak. Mr. Pink asked of the godparents: —
“Dost thou, in the name of this child, renounce the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of the world, with all covetous desires of the same, and the carnal desires of the flesh, so that thou wilt not follow, nor be led by them?”
And they responded: “ I renounce them all.”
Still Ernest slept.
But when the moment came when Mr. Pink took him into his own arms and, saying his name in full tones, sprinkled him liberally with water from the font, Ernest opened wide his forget-me-not eyes and uttered a loud cry of protest and alarm. When Nicholas saw his little brother so treated, he thrust out his underlip, tears rolled down his cheeks, and he sobbed. Seeing Nicholas weep, Gussie also broke into tears.
Nero, who was patiently waiting in the porch, could not endure the sound of the children’s crying. He pushed open the door with his strong muzzle and put his head into the church. He looked about him with a lowering expression till he saw the white-robed figure at the font with the baby in its arms. Nero advanced into the church, fixing Mr. Pink with his eye and lifting his lip.
“For heaven’s sake, take that brute out!” muttered Philip to Sholto, who sprang forward, grasped Nero by the collar, and dragged him back to the porch. A titter ran through the church. Lady Honoria comforted the children.
Ernest Whiteoak, having renounced the devil and his works and recovered from the shock of baptism, looked about him and smiled. He placed the finger tips of one tiny hand upon the finger tips of the other and regarded the assemblage magnanimously. Wilmott pressed down the loud pedal and all joined their voices to the organ accompaniment. They sang: —
“’Tis done! that new and heavenly birth
Which re-creates the sons of earth,
Has cleansed from guilt of Adam’s sin
A soul which Jesus died to win.”
The hymn swelled onward and upward into the Doxology.
There were white flowers on the altar, and the silver candlesticks presented by Lady Honoria. All the red and gold and green leaves, with bits of blue sky showing between, gave the windows an aspect even richer than that of stained glass. The congregation moved happily down the aisles, the little Pink boys in plaid dresses being barely restrained from capering by their mother’s hand. The church overflowed into the graveyard where as yet there was but a single grave, that of a young bird which Lady Honoria and Gussie had found and buried there. The church bell, presented by Elihu Busby, pealed forth in rejoicing.
At Jalna, the doors between library and dining room were thrown open and long tables were loaded with refreshment. The infant’s health was drunk in punch made from Lady Honoria’s own receipt.
Another and more substantial meal was partaken of by a more intimate party before Lord Elgin left. In addition to the family there were Pinks and the churchwardens and their wives. Elihu Busby could not restrain himself from being critical of the policy of the Governor-General toward French Canada.
“It is no wonder,” he said, “that the English Canadians showed resentment and threw stones at Your Lordship’s carriage!”
Lord Elgin laughed tolerantly. “Well, I have got even with them,” he said. “For I have never yet had that battered vehicle repaired but drive everywhere in it so that the world may see how badly they behaved.”
“I can’t agree,” said Busby, “in your coddling of the French. Make ’em English by forc
e, I say.”
“No, no,” returned Lord Elgin. “I encourage them to use their native ability for the Empire, while assuring them of protection. Who will venture to say that the last hand which waves the British flag on American ground may not be that of a French Canadian?”
Before he left, he disclosed the fact that he was soon to go to India to act as Viceroy. Renny Court exclaimed: —
“Congratulations, sir! Who would not prefer India to this wilderness? Yet here my daughter and son-in-law came of their own free will and already I see the moss collecting on them. Philip’s sword has become a ploughshare and as for Adeline — why, that girl was a beauty once and look at her now! A rough-handed, red-faced country wench!”
“If,” said Lord Elgin, “I meet anyone half so delightful in India, I shall be content.”
The guests were gone. It was afternoon of the following day. Philip and Adeline were strolling hand in hand across the lawn in the tranquil sunlight of declining Indian summer. They had talked over the events of the last day, agreeing that all had passed off well and that Lord Elgin was a man of merit. Now they wanted only to be happy in each other’s company, to look with satisfaction on the home they had built. It stood solid among its trees with an air of being ready for what might come.
“And look,” cried Adeline, “the little Virgina creeper! It has turned bright scarlet just as though it were a grown-up vine!”
And so it had. Its tiny tendrils clung almost fiercely to the bricks as though it were in some way responsible for the staunchness of the house, and every leaf was crimson. Then Philip exclaimed — “See the pigeons, Adeline! They are going south! Gad, what a horde of them!”
A number were flying overhead and these increased till they hung like a swift-moving cloud. The cloud was grey-blue but the wings in it made flashes of fire. Their strength reached from house to church and it was four hours and almost dark before they had passed. Then darkness closed about the house, the candles were lighted and extinguished. With her head on Philip’s shoulder, Adeline slept.
Jalna: Books 1-4: The Building of Jalna / Morning at Jalna / Mary Wakefield / Young Renny Page 34