Heartsease or Brother's Wife

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  'Don't call him so here. Ah! I meant to tell you you must not "Mr. Martindale" me here. John is Mr. Martindale.'

  'And what am I to call you?'

  'By my name, of course.'

  'Arthur! Oh! I don't know how.'

  'You will soon. And if you can help shrinking when my aunt kisses you, it will be better for us. Ha! there is Theodora.'

  'O, where?'

  'Gone! Fled in by the lower door. I wish I could have caught her.'

  Violet held her breath. The grand parterre, laid out in regularly- shaped borders, each containing a mass of one kind of flower, flaming elscholchias, dazzling verbenas, azure nemophilas, or sober heliotrope, the broad walks, the great pile of building, the innumerable windows, the long ascent of stone steps, their balustrade guarded by sculptured sphinxes, the lofty entrance, and the tall powdered footmen, gave her the sense of entering a palace. She trembled, and clung to Arthur's arm as they came into a great hall, where a vista of marble pillars, orange trees, and statues, opened before her; but comfort came in the cordial brotherly greeting with which John here met them.

  'She is frightened out of her senses,' said Arthur.

  John's reply was an encouraging squeeze of the hand, which he retained, leading her, still leaning on her husband's arm, into a room, where an elderly gentleman was advancing; both her hands were placed within his by her supporters on either side, and he kissed her, gravely saying, 'Welcome, my dear.' He then presented her to a formal embrace from a tall lady; and Arthur saying, 'Well, Theodora! here, Violet,' again took her hand, and put it into another, whose soft clasp was not ready, nor was the kiss hearty.

  Presently Violet, a little reassured by Lord Martindale's gentle tones, ventured on a survey. She was on the same sofa with Lady Martindale; but infinitely remote she felt from that form like an eastern queen, richly dressed, and with dark majestic beauty, whose dignity was rather increased than impaired by her fifty years. She spoke softly to the shy stranger, but with a condescending tone, that marked the width of the gulf, and Violet's eyes, in the timid hope of sympathy, turned towards the sister.

  But, though the figure was younger, and the dress plainer, something seemed to make her still more unapproachable. There was less beauty, less gentleness, and the expression of her countenance had something fixed and stern. Now and then there was a sort of agitation of the muscles of the face, and her eyes were riveted on Arthur, excepting that if he looked towards her, she instantly looked out of the window. She neither spoke nor moved: Violet thought that she had not given her a single glance, but she was mistaken, Theodora was observing, and forming a judgment.

  This wife, for whose sake Arthur had perilled so much, and inflicted such acute pain on her, what were her merits? A complexion of lilies and roses, a head like a steel engraving in an annual, a face expressing nothing but childish bashfulness, a manner ladylike but constrained, and a dress of studied simplicity worse than finery.

  Lady Martindale spoke of dressing, and conducted her meek shy visitor up a grand staircase, along a broad gallery, into a large bed-room, into which the western sun beamed with a dazzling flood of light.

  The first use Violet made of her solitude was to look round in amaze at the size and luxury of her room, wondering if she should ever feel at home where looking-glasses haunted her with her own insignificance. She fled from them, to try to cool her cheeks at the open window, and gaze at the pleasure-ground, which reminded her of prints of Versailles, by the sparkling fountain rising high in fantastic jets from its stone basin, in the midst of an expanse of level turf, bordered by terraces and stone steps, adorned with tall vases of flowers. On the balustrade stood a peacock, bending his blue neck, and drooping his gorgeous train, as if he was 'monarch of all he surveyed.'

  Poor Violet felt as if no one but peacocks had a right here; and when she remembered that less than twelve weeks ago the summit of her wishes had been to go to the Wrangerton ball, it seemed to be a dream, and she shut her eyes, almost expecting to open them on Annette's face, and the little attic at home. But then, some one else must have been the fabric of a vision! She made haste to unclose them, and her heart bounded at thinking that he was born to all this! She started with joy as his step approached, and he entered the room.

  'Let us look at you,' he said. 'Have you your colour? Ay, plenty of it. Are you getting tamer, you startled thing?'

  'I hope I have not been doing wrong. Lady Martindale asked me to have some tea. I never heard of such a thing before dinner, but I thought afterwards it might have been wrong to refuse. Was it!'

  He laughed. 'Theodora despises nothing so much as women who drink tea in the middle of the day.'

  'I am so afraid of doing what is unladylike. Your mother offered me a maid, but I only thought of not giving trouble, and she seemed so shocked at my undoing my own trunk.'

  'No, no,' said he, much diverted; 'she never thinks people can help themselves. She was brought up to be worshipped. Those are her West Indian ways. But don't you get gentility notions; Theodora will never stand them, and will respect you for being independent. However, don't make too little of yourself, or be shy of making the lady's maids wait on you. There are enough of them--my mother has two, and Theodora a French one to her own share.

  'I should not like any one to do my hair, if that is not wrong.'

  'None of them all have the knack with it you have, and it is lucky, for they cost as much as a hunter.'

  'Indeed, I will try to be no expense.'

  'I say, what do you wear this evening?'

  'Would my white muslin be fit?'

  'Ay, and the pink ribbons in your hair, mind. You will not see my aunt till after dinner, when I shall not be there; but you must do the best you can, for much depends on it. My aunt brought my mother up, and is complete master here. I can't think how my father'--and he went on talking to himself, as he retreated into his dressing-room, so that all Violet heard was, 'wife's relations,' and 'take warning.'

  He came back to inspect her toilette and suggest adornments, till, finding he was overdoing them, he let her follow her own taste, and was so satisfied with the result, that he led her before the glass, saying, 'There. Mrs. Martindale, that's what I call well got up. Don't you?'

  'I don't mind seeing myself when I have you to look at.'

  'You think we make a handsome couple? Well, I am glad you are tall-- not much shorter than Theodora, after all.'

  'But, oh! how shall I behave properly all dinner-time? Do make a sign if I am doing anything wrong.'

  'Nonsense!'

  'I know I shall make mistakes. Matilda says I shall. I had a letter from her this morning to warn me against "solecisms in etiquette," and to tell me to buy the number of the "Family Friend" about dinner- parties, but I had not time, and I am sure I shall do wrong.'

  'You would be much more likely, if you had Matilda and her prig of a book,' said Arthur, between anger and diversion. 'Tell her to mind her own business--she is not your mistress now, and she shall not teach you affectation. Why, you silly child, should I have had you if you had not been "proper behaved"? You have nothing to do but to remember you are my wife, and as good as any of them, besides being twenty times prettier. Now, are you ready?'

  'Yes, quite; but how shall I find my way here again?'

  'See, it is the third door from the stairs. The rest on this side are spare rooms, except where you see those two green baize doors at the ends. They lead to passages, the wings on the garden side. In this one my aunt's rooms are, and Miss Piper, her white nigger, and the other is Theodora's.'

  'And all these opposite doors?'

  'Those four belong to my father and mother; these two are John's. His sitting-room is the best in the house. The place is altogether too big for comfort. Our little parlour at Winchester was twice as snug as that overgrown drawing-room down-stairs.'

  'Dear little room! I hope we may go back to it. But what a view from this end window! That avenue is the most beautiful thing I have seen yet. It l
ooks much older than the house.'

  'It is. My father built the house, but we were an old county family long before. The old Admiral, the first lord, had the peerage settled on my father, who was his nephew and head of the family, and he and my Aunt Nesbit having been old friends in the West Indies, met at Bath, and cooked up the match. He wanted a fortune for his nephew, and she wanted a coronet for her niece! I can't think how she came to be satisfied with a trumpery Irish one. You stare, Violet; but that is my aunt's notion of managing, and the way she meant to deal with all of us. She has monstrous hoards of her own, which she thinks give her a right to rule. She has always given out that she meant the chief of them for me, and treated me accordingly, but I am afraid she has got into a desperately bad temper now, and we must get her out of it as best we can.'

  This not very encouraging speech was made as they stood looking from the gallery window. Some one came near, and Violet started. It was a very fashionably-dressed personage, who, making a sort of patronizing sweeping bend, said, 'I was just about to send a person to assist Mrs. Martindale. I hope you will ring whenever you require anything. The under lady's maid will be most happy to attend you.'

  'There,' said Arthur, as the lady passed on, 'that is the greatest person in the house, hardly excepting my aunt. That is Miss Altisidora Standaloft, her ladyship's own maid.'

  Violet's feelings might somewhat resemble those of the Emperor Julian when he sent for a barber, and there came a count of the empire.

  'She must have wanted to look at you,' proceeded Arthur, 'or she would never have treated us with such affability. But come along, here is Theodora's room.'

  It was a cheerful apartment, hung with prints, with somewhat of a school-room aspect, and in much disorder. Books and music lay confused with blue and lilac cottons, patterns, scissors, and papers covered with mysterious dots; there were odd-looking glass bottles on the mantel-shelf with odder looking things in them, and saucers holding what Violet, at home, would have called messes; the straw-bonnet lay on the floor, and beside it the Scotch terrier, who curled up his lips, showed his white teeth, and greeted the invaders with a growl, which became a bark as Arthur snapped his fingers at him. 'Ha! Skylark, that is bad manners. Where's your mistress? Theodora!'

  At the call, the door of the inner room opened, but only a little dark damsel appeared, saying, in a French accent, that Miss Martindale was gone to Miss Gardner's room.

  'Is Miss Gardner here?' exclaimed Arthur.

  'She is arrived about half an hour ago,' was the reply. Arthur uttered an impatient interjection, and Violet begged to know who Miss Gardner was.

  'A great friend of Theodora's. I wish she would have kept further off just now, not that she is not a good-natured agreeable person enough, but I hate having strangers here. There will be no good to be got out of Theodora now! There are two sisters always going about staying at places, the only girls Theodora ever cared for; and just now, Georgina, the youngest, who used to be a wild fly-away girl, just such as Theodora herself, has gone and married one Finch, a miserly old rogue, that scraped up a huge fortune in South America, and is come home old enough for her grandfather. What should possess Theodora to bring Jane here now? I thought she would never have forgiven them. But we may as well come down. Here's the staircase for use and comfort.'

  'And here is the hall! Oh !' cried Violet, springing towards it, 'this really is the Dying Gladiator. Just like the one at Wrangerton!'

  'What else should he be like!' said Arthur, laughing. 'Every one who keeps a preserve of statues has the same.'

  She would have liked to linger, recognizing her old friends, and studying this museum of wonders, inlaid marble tables, cases of stuffed humming birds, and stands of hot-house plants, but Arthur hurried her on, saying it was very ill-contrived, a draught straight through it, so that nothing warmed it. He opened doors, giving her a moment's glimpse of yellow satin, gilding and pictures, in the saloon, which was next to the drawing-room where she had been received, and beyond it the dining- room. Opposite, were the billiard-room, a library, and Lord Martindale s study; and 'Here,' said he, 'is where Theodora and I keep our goods. Ha!' as he entered, 'you here, Theodora! Hallo! what's this? A lot of wooden benches with their heels in the air. How is this? Have you been setting up a charity school in my room?'

  'I found the children by the wood were too far from school, so I have been teaching them here. I came to see about taking the benches out of your way. I did not expect you here.'

  'I was showing her our haunts. See, Violet, here's my double barrel, and here are the bows. I forget if you can shoot.'

  'Matilda and Caroline do.'

  'You shall learn. We will have the targets out. Where's the light bow you used to shoot with, Theodora?'

  'It is somewhere,' said Theodora, without alacrity; 'no, I remember, I gave it to Mr. Wingfield's little nephew.'

  'Unlucky! Yours will never do for those little fingers.' Theodora abruptly turned to Violet, and said,' She must be tired of standing there.' Violet smiled with pleasure at being addressed, thanked, and disclaimed fatigue.

  'She is of your sort, and does not know how to be tired,' said Arthur. 'I wondered to hear your bosom friend was here. What brings her about now?'

  'If you call her my bosom friend, you answer the question,' was the proud reply, and it provoked him to carry on the teasing process.

  'I thought she was not THE friend,' he continued; 'I ought to have congratulated you on THE friend's capture. A goldfinch of the South American breed is a rare bird.'

  Theodora drew up her head, and impetuously heaped some school-books together. 'Have you seen the pretty caged bird?'

  'Never.'

  In a soft tone, contrasting with the manner of his last sayings, Arthur invited his wife to come out on the lawn, and walked away with her. She was surprised and uneasy at what had taken place, but could not understand it, and only perceived he would prefer her not seeming to notice it.

  It was all the strange influence of temper. In truth, Theodora's whole heart was yearning to the brother, whom she loved beyond all others; while on the other hand his home attachments centred on her, and he had come to seek her with the fixed purpose of gaining her good-will and protection for his young bride. But temper stepped between. Whether it began from Theodora's jealousy of the stranger, or from his annoyance at her cold haughty manner to his wife, he was vexed, and retaliated by teasing; she answered coldly, in proud suffering at being taunted on a subject which gave her much pain, and then was keenly hurt at his tone and way of leaving her, though in fact she was driving him away. She stood leaning against a pillar in the hall, looking after him with eyes brimming with tears; but on hearing a step approach, she subdued all signs of emotion, and composedly met the eye of her eldest brother. She could not brook that any one should see her grief, and she was in no mood for his first sentences: 'What are you looking at?' and seeing the pair standing by the fountain, 'Well, you don't think I said too much in her favour?'

  'She is very pretty,' said Theodora, as if making an admission.

  'It is a very sweet expression. Even as a stranger, it would be impossible not to be interested in her, if only for the sake of her simplicity.'

  Theodora glanced at Violet's dress, and at the attitude in which she was looking up, as Arthur gathered some roses from a vase; then turned her eyes on John's thoughtful and melancholy countenance, and thought within herself, that every man, however wise, can be taken in by a fair face, and by airs and graces.

  'Poor thing,' continued John, 'it must be very trying; you don't see her to advantage, under constraint, but a few kind words will set her at ease.'

  He paused for an answer, but not obtaining one, said, 'I did not know you expected Miss Gardner to-day.'

  She surprised him, by answering with asperity, prompted by a second attack on this subject, 'I can't help it. I could not put her off,-- what objection can there be?'

  'Nothing, nothing,--I meant nothing personal. It was only that I
would have avoided having spectators of a family meeting like this. I am afraid of first impressions.'

  'My impressions are nothing at all.'

  'Well, I hope you will make friends--I am sure she will repay your kindness.'

  'Do you know that you are standing in a tremendous draught?' interrupted Theodora.

  'And there's my mother on the stairs. I shall go and call them in; come with me, Theodora.'

  But she had turned back and joined her mother.

  He found Violet all smiles and wonder: but she relapsed into constraint and alarm as soon as she entered the drawing-room. Miss Gardner presently came down,--a lady about five or six and twenty, not handsome, but very well dressed, and with an air of ease and good society, as if sure of her welcome. As Violet listened to her lively conversation with Lord Martindale, she thought how impossible it was that she should ever be equally at home there.

  The grandeur of the dining-room was another shock, and the varieties of courses revived her remorse for the cold mutton. She sat between Lord Martindale and John, who talked to her as soon as he thought she could bear the sound of her own voice, and, with Arthur opposite, her situation was delightful compared to the moment when, without either of her protectors, she must go with the imperial Lady Martindale to encounter the dreaded aunt.

  When the time came, Arthur held open the door, and she looked up in his face so piteously, that he smiled, and whispered 'You goose,' words which encouraged her more than their tenor would seem to warrant.

  Warm as it was, the windows were shut, and a shawl was round Mrs. Nesbit's tall, bending, infirm figure. Violet dared not look up at her, and thought, with mysterious awe, of the caution not to shrink if she were kissed, but it was not needed, Lady Martindale only said, 'My aunt, Mrs. Arthur Martindale,' and Mrs. Nesbit, half rising, just took her hand into her long skinny fingers, which felt cold, damp, and uncertain, like the touch of a lizard.

  Violet was conscious of being scanned from head to foot--nay, looked through and through by black eyes that seemed to pierce like a dart from beneath their shaggy brows, and discover all her ignorance, folly, and unfitness for her position. Colouring and trembling, she was relieved that there was another guest to call off Mrs. Nesbit's attention, and watched the readiness and deference with which Miss Gardner replied to compliments on her sister's marriage; and yet they were not comfortable congratulations, thought Violet; at least they made her cheeks burn, and Theodora stood by looking severe and melancholy; but Miss Gardner seemed quite to enter into the sarcastic tone, and almost to echo it, as if to humour the old lady.