Heartsease or Brother's Wife

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  'I don't understand,' said Violet. 'I thought if one saw a duty one must try to practise it.'

  'I wish all the world went upon your principles' said Miss Gardner, with a sigh. 'I am afraid you will find many not half so consistent with their own views as yourself, or Theodora.'

  'Oh! of course one must fail,' said Violet. 'One cannot do half one means, but Theodora seems so strong and resolute.'

  'Ay, no one has been able to cope with her, not even Mrs. Nesbit; who, as a kindred spirit, might have had a chance!'

  'Mrs. Nesbit has had a great deal to do with her education?'

  'I dare say you have found out the real head of the family. I see you are very acute, as well as very guarded.'

  'Oh dear! I hope I have said nothing I ought not,' cried Violet, in a fright.

  'No, indeed, far from it. I was admiring your caution.'

  Violet thought she had done wrong in betraying her dislike; she knew not how; and trying to ascribe all to shyness, said, 'It was so strange and new; I have never been out till now.'

  'Yes, if you will allow me to say so, I thought you got on admirably, considering how trying the situation was.'

  'Oh! I was very much frightened; but they are very kind--Mr. Martindale especially.'

  'Poor Mr. Martindale! I wish he could recover his spirits. He has never held up his head since Miss Fotheringham's death. He is an admirable person, but it is melancholy to see him spending his life in that lonely manner.'

  'It is, indeed. I often wish anything would cheer him!'

  'All the family are devoted to him, if that would comfort him. It is the only point where Lady Martindale is not led by her aunt, that she almost worships him!'

  'I thought Mrs. Nesbit was fond of him.'

  'Did you ever hear that Percy Fotheringham once said of her, "That woman is a good hater"? She detested the Fotheringham family, and Mr. Martindale, for his engagement. No, he is out of her power, and she cannot endure him; besides, he is a rival authority--his father listens to him.'

  'I suppose Mrs. Nesbit is very clever.'

  'She has been one of the cleverest women on earth. She formed her niece, made the match, forced her forward into the very highest society--never were such delightful parties--the best music--every lion to be met with--Lady Martindale herself at once a study for beauty, and a dictionary of arts and sciences--Mrs. Nesbit so agreeable. Ah! you cannot judge of her quite, she is passee, broken, and aged, and, poor thing! is querulous at feeling the loss of her past powers; but there used to be a brilliance and piquancy in her conversation that has become something very different now.'

  Violet thought it most prudent only to remark on Lady Martindale's varied accomplishments.

  'She has carried them on much longer than usual. People generally give them up when they marry, but she has gone on. I am not sure whether it was the wisest course. There is much to be said on both sides. And I have sometimes thought Theodora might have been a little less determined and eccentric, if she had not been left so much to governesses, and if her affections had had more scope for development.'

  Theodora came in, and Violet blushed guiltily, as if she had been talking treason.

  Miss Gardner's object in life, for the present, might be said to be to pick up amusement, and go about making visits; the grander the people the better, adapting herself to every one, and talking a sort of sensible scandal, with a superior air of regret; obtaining histories at one house to be detailed at another, and thus earning the character of being universally intimate. The sentiments of the young bride of Martindale had been, throughout her visit, matter of curiosity; and even this tete-a-tete left them guess work. Theodora's were not so difficult of discovery; for, though Jane had never been the same favourite with her as her more impetuous sister, she had, by her agreeable talk and show of sympathy, broken down much of the hedge of thorns with which Theodora guarded her feelings.

  'I have been talking to Mrs. Martindale,' Jane began, as they went up- stairs together. 'She is a graceful young thing, and Georgina and I will call on her in London. Of course they will be settled there.'

  'I don't know,' said Theodora. 'A notion has been started of his leaving the Guards, and their coming to live at the cottage at Brogden.'

  'Indeed!' exclaimed Miss Gardner.

  'It is not settled, so don't mention it. I doubt how it would answer to set Arthur down with nothing to do.'

  'I doubt, indeed! I have seen a good deal of families living close together.'

  'Nothing shall make me quarrel with Arthur, or his wife. You smile, but it needs no magnanimity to avoid disputes with anything so meek and gentle.'

  'You can't judge of her; a girl of sixteen in a house full of strangers! Give her a house of her own, and she will soon learn that she is somebody. As long as your eldest brother is unmarried, she will expect to be looked upon as the wife of the heir. She will take offence, and your brother will resent it.'

  'And there will be discussions about her,' said Theodora.

  'Depend upon it, 'tis easier to keep the peace at a distance. Fancy the having to call for her whenever you go out to dinner. And oh! imagine the father, mother, and half-dozen sisters that will be always staying there.'

  'No, Arthur has not married the whole family, and never means them to come near her.'

  'There are two words to that question,' said Miss Gardner, smiling. 'Quiet as she seems now, poor thing she has a character of her own, I can see, and plenty of discernment. To be so guarded, as she is, at her age, shows some resolution.'

  'Guarded! has she been saying anything?'

  'No, she is extremely prudent.'

  'Inferring it, then,' exclaimed Theodora. 'Well, her expectations must be high, if she is not satisfied; one comfort is, the Brogden scheme is only John's and papa's. My aunt can't bear it, because it seems quite to give up the chance of John's marrying.'

  'Well, Georgina and I will do the best we can for her. I suppose you wish it to be understood that you approve.'

  'Of course: you can say everything with truth that the world cares for. She is pleasing, and amiable, and all that.'

  'She will be extremely admired.'

  'And her head so much turned as to ruin all the sense there may be in it! I hate the thought of it, and of what is to become of Arthur when he wakes from his trance.'

  'He will find that he has a sister,' said Jane, who had learnt that this was the secret of consolation; and, accordingly, a softer 'Poor Arthur!' followed.

  'And will you write, dear Theodora?'

  'I don't promise. I hardly ever write letters.'

  'And you will not send your love to poor Georgina?'

  'I forgive her for having pained and disappointed me. I hope she will be happy, but I am very much afraid she has not gone the right way to be so.'

  'Am I to tell her so?'

  'I dare say you will, but don't call it my message. If she makes a good use of her means, I shall try to forget the way she obtained them.'

  'I only hope, with your notions, that you will not get into a scrape yourself. I'm a little afraid of that curate.'

  'We both know better,' said Theodora.

  Jane departed, and Violet felt as if she had a friend and protector the less. She was sitting forlorn in the great drawing-room, waiting for Arthur, who was trying horses; presently Theodora came in, and with something of compassion, said, 'I hope you have an entertaining book there.'

  Oh yes, thank you, "La Vie de Philippe Auguste". I like it very much; it is as amusing as "Philip Augustus" itself.'

  'James's novel, you mean?'

  'Have you read it?'

  'His novels are exactly alike,' said Theodora, leaving the room, but checked by the thought that it would be merciful to take her into her room. 'No, nonsense,' said second thoughts; 'I shall have nothing but chatter ever after, if I establish her coming to me when Arthur is out; and if this cottage scheme comes to pass, she will be marching up whenever she has nothing better to do. Give an inch, and
she will take an ell.'

  She was interrupted by a diffident, hesitating call, and, looking back, as she was mounting the stairs, beheld Violet, who changed the appellation into 'Miss Martindale.'

  'Well!' said she, feeling as if her citadel were in jeopardy.

  'Would you--would you be so very kind as to lend me a French dictionary?'

  'Certainly; I'll give you one in a moment,' said Theodora; with so little encouragement as would have deterred a person bent on gaining the entree. Violet stood meekly waiting till she brought the book, and received it with gratitude disproportionate to the favour conferred.

  CHAPTER 5

  Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, And I must know it, else he loves me not.--King Henry IV

  Miss Gardner's departure threw the rest of the party more together, and Theodora did not hold herself as much aloof as before. Indeed she perceived that there were occasions when Arthur seemed to be returning to his preference for her. She had more conversation, and it often fell on subjects of which the bride had no knowledge, while the sister was happy in resuming old habits. Sometimes Violet was entertained; but one day when they were riding, the talk was going on eagerly on some subject of which she knew nothing, while they rode faster than she liked, and she fancied she was insecure in her saddle. Twice she timidly called Arthur; but he was too much absorbed to attend to her, without a degree of scream, which she did not feel would be justified. Each moment she grew more alarmed and miserable, and though at last, when he perceived that she wanted him, he was off his horse in a moment and set all to rights, she completely forgot her distress,--the charm had been broken, she was no longer his first thought.

  The sensation of loneliness often returned during the next few weeks; there was no real neglect, and she would not so have felt it if she had not depended on him alone, and so long enjoyed his exclusive attention. His fondness and petting were the same, but she perceived that he found in his sister a companionship of which she did not feel capable. But to Theodora herself, whenever she succeeded in engrossing Arthur, it seemed a victory of sisterly affection and sense over beauty and frivolity.

  Arthur was anxious to know the family politics, and resumed the habit of depending on his sister for gathering intelligence from Mrs. Nesbit. On her he bestowed his complaints that his father would not see things as he wished, and with her talked over his projects. In truth, he could not bear to disclose to his wife the footing on which he stood,-- looking on her as a mere child, sure to be satisfied, and not requiring to be consulted.

  Theodora gave him tidings of the proposal that he should settle in the village, and finding him undecided, threw all her weight into the opposite scale. She sincerely believed she was consulting his happiness and the harmony of the family by speaking of the irksomeness of living there with nothing to do, and by assisting him in calculating how large an income would be necessary to enable him to keep hunters, go from home, &c., without which he declared it would be intolerable, and as there was little probability of his father allowing him so much, continuing in his profession was the only alternative.

  Violet saw them in frequent consultation, and once John said something to her of his hopes of seeing her at Brogden; then, finding her in ignorance, drew back, but not till he had said enough to make her restless at hearing no more. She would, of course, have preferred living in the country; but when she figured to herself Arthur always with Theodora, and herself shut up in the little parlour she had seen in the rain, she grew extremely disconsolate.

  One morning, unable to read or sit quiet under these anticipations, she went out to dispel them by a turn among the flowers, and a conversation with the peacock. At the corner of the lawn, she heard Arthur's voice- -'Exactly so; two thousand is the very least. Ha, Violet!' as he and Theodora emerged from a shady alley.

  'Oh, I did not mean to interrupt you,' said Violet, confused; 'I only came out for some fresh air.'

  'Unbonneted, too, do you want to get roasted brown?' said Arthur.

  'I never am burnt,' said Violet; 'but I will not be in your way, I'll go.'

  'Nonsense,' said he, drawing her arm into his. 'Come in good time,' and he yawned, tired of the discussion. 'Ha, Mr. Peacock, are you there?'

  'He always follows me,' said Violet. 'Miss Piper showed me where his food is kept, and I can almost get him to eat out of my hand.'

  Theodora walked off, thinking there was an end of her brother's sense, and Violet looked after her rather sadly, thinking, while exhibiting to Arthur her friendship with the peacock, 'he consults her, he only plays with me. Perhaps it is all I am good for; but I wish we were at Winchester.'

  As Theodora went up-stairs, she saw her eldest brother standing at the south window of the gallery. He called to her, saying, 'Here's a pretty picture, Theodora.'

  In front of the sparkling crystal arches of the fountain stood Violet, bending forward, and holding out her hand full of grain to invite the beautiful bird, which now advanced, now withdrew its rich blue neck, as in condescension, then raised its crested head in sudden alarm, its train sweeping the ground in royal splendour. Arthur, no unpicturesque figure in his loose brown coat, stood by, leaning against the stand of one of the vases of plants, whose rich wreaths of brightly coloured blossoms hung down, making a setting for the group; and while Violet by her blandishments invited the peacock to approach, he now and then, with smiling slyness, made thrusts at it with her parasol, or excited Skylark to approach.

  'A pretty scene, is it not?' said John.

  'Like a Sevres china cup,' Theodora could not help saying.

  'Fountain and peacock, and parasol for shepherd's crook, forming a French Arcadia,' said John, smiling. 'I suppose it would hardly make a picture. It is too bright.'

  Theodora only answered by a sigh, and was turning away, when John added, 'I am glad she has him at last, I was afraid she had a long solitary morning while you were out with him. I saw you walking up and down so long.'

  'He was talking over his plans,' said Theodora, with an assumption of sullen dignity.

  'I have been wishing to speak to you about that very thing,' said John. 'I think you may be in danger of putting yourself between him and his wife.'

  It was a new thing to her to hear that this was a danger, but, in an offended manner, she replied, 'I can hardly be accused of that. He ceases all rational talk about his most important concerns to go to child's play with her.'

  'But why keep her out of the rational talk?'

  'That is his concern. He knows what she is capable of, I suppose.'

  'I doubt whether he does,' said John; 'but I don't want to interfere with his behaviour, only to give you a caution. It is natural that you should wish to have him what he was before. I knew his marriage was a great blow to you.'

  'I knew he would marry,' said Theodora, coldly; for she could not bear compassion. 'It is the common course of things.'

  'And that the wife should be first.'

  'Of course.'

  'Then would it not be better to bear that in mind, and make up your mind to it, rather than try to absorb his confidence?'

  'He is not bound to consult no one but that child. You would not drive him back to her if he came to you for advice.'

  'I should not pass her over; I should assume that her opinion was to be respected.'

  'I can't be untrue.'

  'Then try to make it valuable.'

  'He wants no help of mine to make him fond of her!' cried Theodora. 'Does not he dote on her, and make himself quite foolish about her complexion and her dress!'

  'That is a different thing. She cannot be always a toy; and if you want to do the most inestimable service to Arthur, it would be by raising her.'

  'Trying to educate a married sister-in-law! No, thank you!'

  'I don't see what is to become of them,' said John, sadly. 'He will be always under some influence or other, and a sensible wife might do everything for him. But she is a child; and he is not the man to form her character. He would have
spoilt her already if she did not take his admiration, for mere affection; and just at the age when girls are most carefully watched, she is turned out into the world without a guide! If he ceases to be happy with her, what is before them? You think he will fall back on you; but I tell you he will not. If you once loosen the tie of home, and he seeks solace elsewhere, it will be in the pursuits that have done him harm enough already.'

  'He has given up his race-horses,' said Theodora.

  The luncheon-bell interrupted them; but as they were going down, John added, 'I hope I have said nothing to vex you. Indeed, Theodora, I feel much for your loss.'

  'I am not vexed,' was her haughty reply, little guessing how, in her pursuit of the brother who had escaped her, she was repelling and slighting one who would gladly have turned to her for sisterly friendship. His spirits were in that state of revival when a mutual alliance would have greatly added to the enjoyment of both; but Theodora had no idea of even the possibility of being on such terms. He seemed like one of an elder generation--hardly the same relation as Arthur.

  'So, Lady Elizabeth comes,' said Lady Martindale, as they entered the room.

  'Is she coming to stay here!' asked John.

  'Yes; did you not hear that we have asked her to come to us for the Whitford ball?'

  'Oh, are we in for the Whitford ball?' said Theodora, in a tone of disgust that checked the delighted look on Violet's face.

  'Yes, my dear; your papa wishes us to go.'

  'What a bore!' exclaimed Theodora.

  'Yes,' sighed Lady Martindale; 'but your papa thinks it right.'

  'A necessary evil--eh, Violet?' said Arthur.

  'I hope you don't mind it?' said Violet, looking anxiously at him.

  'Ah, you will enjoy it,' said her ladyship, graciously regarding her folly.

  'Oh, yes, thank you,' said Violet, eagerly.

  'Have you been to many balls?'

  'Only to one;' and she blushed deeply, and cast down her eyes.

  'And so the Brandons are coming to stay! For how long, mamma?' proceeded Theodora.

  'From Wednesday to Saturday,' said Lady Martindale. 'I have been writing cards for a dinner-party for Wednesday; and your father says there are some calls that must be returned; and so, my dear, will you be ready by three?'