'You don't mean me, mamma?' said Theodora, as nobody answered.
'No; you are a resolute rebel against morning visits. You have no engagement for this afternoon, my dear?'
Violet started, saying, 'I beg your pardon; I did not know you meant me. Oh, thank you! I am very much obliged.'
'I suppose you will not go with us, Arthur?'
He looked as if he did not like it, but caught a beseeching glance from his wife, and was beginning to consent, when Theodora exclaimed, 'Oh, Arthur, don't; it will be such a famous opportunity for that ride.'
'Very well; you know where my cards are, Violet!'
'Yes,' she answered, submissively, though much disappointed, and in dread of the drive and of the strangers.
'Really, I think you had better go, Arthur,' said John, greatly displeased at Theodora's tone. 'It is the sort of occasion for doing things regularly.'
'Indeed, I think so,' said Lady Martindale; 'I wish Arthur would go with us this once. I doubt if it will be taken well if he does not.'
'You will find no one at home. His going won't make a bit of difference,' said Theodora, who now regarded keeping him as a matter of power.
'Surely your ride might wait,' said her mother. 'No, it won't, mamma. It is to see that old man, Mary's father.'
'What Mary, my dear?'
'The scullery-maid. I want to speak to him about her confirmation; and the only way is over Whitford Down--all manner of leaping places, so we must go without Violet.'
Violet feared there was little hope for her, for Arthur looked much invited by the leaping places, but John made another effort in her favour, and a great one for him.
'Suppose you accept of me for your escort, Theodora?' Every one looked astonished, Lady Martindale positively aghast.
'Were you ever on Whitford Down, John ' said Arthur.
'Why, yes,--in old times; I know the place, I believe.'
'You talk of knowing it, who never hunted!' said Arthur. 'No, no; you are a great traveller, John, but you don't know the one horse-track on Whitford Down that does not lead into a bog--'
'Theodora does, I dare say.'
'Yes, I know it, but it is too far for you, John, thank you, and not at all what would suit you. I must give it up, if Arthur prefers playing the disconsolate part of a gentleman at a morning call.'
'Do you really dislike going without me?' asked Arthur, and of course nothing was left for Violet to say but, 'O, thank you, pray don't stay with me. Indeed, I had much rather you had your ride.'
'You are sure?'
'O yes, quite. I shall do very well' and she smiled, and tried to make a show of ease and confidence in his mother, by looking towards her, and asking upon whom they were to call.
Lady Martindale mentioned several ladies who had left their cards for Mrs. Arthur Martindale, adding that perhaps it would be better to leave a card at Rickworth Priory.
'Is that where Lady Elizabeth Brandon lives?' asked Violet.
'Yes,' said Lady Martindale. 'It belongs to her daughter. Lady Elizabeth is a highly excellent person, for whom Lord Martindale has a great regard, and Miss Brandon is one of Theodora's oldest friends.'
'Hum!' said Theodora.
'My dear, she is a very nice amiable girl--just your own age, and admirably brought up.'
'Granted,' said Theodora.
'I cannot see that Emma Brandon wants anything but style and confidence,' proceeded Lady Martindale, 'and that I believe to be entirely poor Lady Elizabeth's fault for keeping her so much in retirement. That German finishing governess, Miss Ohnglaube, whom we were so sorry to lose, would have been the person to teach her a little freedom and readiness of manner. I wish we could have kept her a little longer.'
'I told Lady Elizabeth about her,' said Theodora; but Lady Martindale, without hearing, said she must go to her aunt, and renewing injunctions to Violet to be ready by three, left the room.
'You did not astonish her weak mind with the ghost story?' said Arthur.
'With its cause.'
'You would not have thought, Violet,' continued Arthur, 'that we had a ghost in the north wing.'
'What was it?' said Violet. 'You don't mean really?'
'Only a Turk's-head broom, with phosphorus eyes, and a sheet round the handle,' said Theodora. 'It had a grand effect when Arthur stood on the second landing-place, and raised it above the balusters--a sort of bodilessness rising from vacancy.'
'Didn't she faint?' said Arthur.
'No, I was afraid she would, and then it would have been all over with us; but I dragged her safe into the school-room, and there she was so hysterical that I nearly relented.'
'Then was it all in play?' said Violet.
'In earnest,' said Arthur. 'It was the only way of getting quit of mademoiselle.'
'That lady who used to talk metaphysics and sing!' said John. 'I remember the lamentations at her not choosing to remain. Why was she victimized?'
'There was no help for it,' said Theodora. 'She considered the book of Genesis as a "sehr schone mythische Geschichte", and called the Patriarchs the Hebrew Avatars.'
'Theodora! You don't mean it!' exclaimed John.
'I do, but I had my revenge, for, after the Turk's-head adventure, she never slept without my Bible under her pillow. If by broad daylight she would have renounced the Avatar theory, I really would have forgiven her, for she was very good-natured, and she admired "the high Roman fashion" so much, I was half afraid she might follow it herself if we tormented her much more.'
'But why keep it to yourself! I can hardly believe it possible! Why play these tricks instead of telling all?'
'I did tell Aunt Nesbit, but Miss Ohnglaube was always reading Jean Paul with her and mamma; they were in raptures with her, and my aunt only said I was too well instructed to be misled.'
'How old were you?'
'About fifteen.'
'It is beyond belief. Why could you not tell my father?' said John.
'I hardly saw him--I never spoke to him.'
'Was not I at home!'
'Yes, shut up in your room. I never thought of speaking to you. All I could do was to be as restive as possible, and when she did not care for that, there was nothing for it but playing on her German superstition. So Arthur told her some awful stones about whipping blacks to death, and declared West Indian families were very apt to be haunted; but that it was a subject never to be mentioned to mamma nor my aunt.'
'And having paved the way, we treated her to the Turk's-head,' concluded Arthur. 'I would do it again to hear her sigh and scream, and see Theodora acting as coolly as if she was in daily intercourse with the defunct nigger. If mademoiselle had not been frightened out of her senses, her self-possession would have betrayed us.'
'I could not act fright,' said Theodora.
'And this was the best plan you could devise for getting rid of an infidel governess!' said John.
And as they dispersed, he stood looking after his sister, thinking that there was more excuse for her inconsistencies than he had yet afforded her, and that, in fact, she deserved credit for being what she was. His aunt had done even more harm than the ruin of his happiness.
Theodora triumphed, and carried Arthur off, but Violet found the reality of the expedition less formidable than the anticipation. She knew her mother would have enjoyed seeing her well dressed, and setting forth in that style; the drive was agreeable, and Lady Martindale kind and gracious. Alone with her, she lost much of her dread, and felt better acquainted; but all froze up into coldness when they came home.
The ladies at Rickworth had not been at home; and as they did not arrive on the Wednesday till Violet had gone to dress, she had time to frighten herself by imagining an heiress on the pattern of Lady Martindale, and an earl's daughter proportionably unapproachable. Her trepidation was increased by Arthur's not coming in, though she heard guests arriving, and when at last he appeared, it was so late, that he desired her to go down and say he was 'just ready.'
It was a ser
ious thing to encounter alone that great saloon full of strangers, and with cheeks of the brightest carnation Violet glided in, and after delivering her message to Lord Martindale, was glad to find herself safely seated on an ottoman, whence she looked for the chief guests. In the distance, beside Lady Martindale, sat a quiet elderly lady in black; Theodora was paying a sort of scornful half-attention to a fine showy girl, who was talking rather affectedly; and, thought Violet, no one but an heiress could wear so many bracelets.
Her survey completed, she became conscious that a small, fair-haired, pale girl was sitting near her, looking so piteously shy and uncomfortable, that she felt bound to try and set her at ease, and ventured an observation on the weather. It was responded to, and something about the harvest followed; then, how pretty the country, and, thereupon, Violet said it only wanted mountains to be beautiful.
'Ah! when one has once seen a mountain one cannot forget it.'
'Never!' said Violet. 'I miss Helvellyn every morning when I look out of window.'
'Do you know the Lake country?' said the young lady.
'My home--my old home--is within sight of the Westmoreland hills. Have you been there?'
'Mamma and I once spent a month there, and enjoyed it exceedingly.'
'Oh! and did you go up Helvellyn!'
'Yes, that we did, in spite of the showers; and what a view we had!'
They were surprised to find that dinner had been announced. Violet was placed next to Mr. Martindale, and was able to ask the name of her new acquaintance.
'Miss Brandon, you mean.' 'O no, not Miss Brandon, but that light pale girl in the lilac worked muslin, who was talking to me!'
'I saw you talking to Miss Brandon.'
'Could it be? She looked all astray and frightened, like me!'
'That description answers to Emma Brandon,' said John, smiling.
'Who would have thought it! I should never have begun talking to her if I had guessed who she was. I only did it because she looked so uncomfortable. I hope it was not being forward.'
'Not in the least. You know you are at home here,--it was a great kindness.'
'Do you like her?' said Violet.
'I believe she is a very good kind of girl, and her mother is one of our oldest friends. They are very excellent sensible people, and do a great deal of good in their own parish.'
'And only think! She has been in Westmoreland! She has seen Helvellyn!'
Violet was the only person who ever spoke to John in that hearty confidence of sympathy in rejoicing; and quite refreshed by her bright looks, he led her into a history of an ascent of Helvellyn, which had, until this spring, been the great event of her life.
On coming into the drawing-room, Miss Brandon shrank up to her mother's side. Violet wished she had a mother to protect her; and not daring to place herself among the great ladies, stood in the group of younger ones, with whom Theodora was keeping up a cold formal converse. Country neighbours thought much of being asked to Martindale; but the parties there were of the grandest and stiffest. Moreover, every one had to give their friends a description of the bride; and the young ladies were more inclined to study her appearance than to find conversation, regarding her as an object of curiosity, as well as with some of their general dread of the house of Martindale.
After an awkward ten minutes, Lady Martindale came towards her, and said, 'My dear, Lady Elizabeth Brandon wishes to be introduced to you.'
'To me!' and Violet followed her, blushed and bent, then found her hand cordially shaken, and a most comfortable voice addressing her. Room was made for her on the sofa, between Lady Elizabeth and her daughter, and she was supremely happy in talking about her own dear lake country. Arthur smiled, and looked well pleased to see her in such company; and Mr. Martindale came and talked to Lady Elizabeth all the evening.
Violet expected Theodora to monopolize Miss Brandon the next morning, but Theodora had reasons of her own for not breaking her habit of spending the morning in her own occupations. She knew Lady Elizabeth to be perfectly guiltless of manoeuvring; but from the time she had become conscious of Mrs. Nesbit's designs on Rickworth, first for Arthur and now for John, it had been her decided purpose to give no colour for throwing the heiress in their way by any friendship of hers; and as she considered Emma one of the dullest and most silly girls of her acquaintance, it was very pleasant to be justified in neglecting her.
The office of companionship to the younger visitor fell to Mrs. Martindale. She showed off the peacock, and they wandered happily in the gardens, most amiably received by Mr. Harrison, who delighted in displaying his treasures, and almost overwhelmed Violet with his graciousness, when she shyly asked if he could spare her a few of his white roses for her hair.
Miss Brandon groaned and sighed about the ball, declaring it her detestation; she should be tired to death; she hated dancing; and above all, there was the nuisance of dressing.
'Oh! I am sorry you don't like it,' said Violet, 'but that is the way with all sensible people.'
'No; mamma says it is not being sensible, but because I don't dance well, and she wishes I did.'
'I am glad of that. My mamma does not think it foolish.'
'Do you like dancing, then?'
'That I do,' cried Violet, making a few steps; 'I only wish I might dance with him still!'
This was the only difference of opinion--on school-teaching books-- heroes, historical and fictitious--on the "Bridal of Triermain"--and Wordsworth's Waggoner, their sentiments accorded exactly. Perhaps Emma's mind was the more formed and cultivated, but Violet's was the more discerning and diffident in judgment.
Emma took the first opportunity of pouring out to her mother a perfect rapture about Mrs. Martindale, dwelling on her right views, and all that showed she had been well brought up.
'She is a sweet-looking creature,' said Lady Elizabeth, 'and I do hope she is all she seems. Lord Martindale has been telling me how entirely the marriage was her father's doing, and that she was perfectly ignorant and innocent, poor thing.'
'She looks as if she could never do anything wrong. Mamma, I hardly know whether you would like me to make friends with her, but I could not help it, and she said such nice things that I knew you would like her. I never could get on with any one before, you know, but, from the moment she came blushing in, and spoke to me in that sweet low voice, I felt as if I most be fond of her--before I made out who she was--and even then I could not like her less.'
'She is so unaffected and unassuming!' said Lady Elizabeth. 'I little expected Arthur Martindale's marriage to have turned out so well.'
'I don't wonder at his falling in love at first sight! I don't see how he could help it. I am sure I should!'
'I think you have, said Lady Elizabeth, smiling.
'Wasn't it charming, mamma? Theodora never came near us all the morning, and very soon got out of my way in the afternoon, so we were so comfortable!'
'Take care what you say about her, my dear.'
'Oh, yes. We never spoke of her at all. I wonder what Mrs. Martindale does here! It is a dreadful place, and they are all one more stately than the other,'
'Not the sons.'
'Oh! poor Mr. Martindale is worse than stately. There's something in that gentle melancholy tone of his that is so different from other people--and he looks so refined and thoughtful. He frightens me more than any of them!'
'I hope he is in rather better spirits. I have had a good deal of talk with him this evening. Indeed, his father told me he had been roused by all this affair about his brother. But, Emma, my dear, you have not rung all this time! Here am I almost dressed. I shall have to fulfil my threat, and leave you to come down alone.'
It had to be fulfilled. Emma left insufficient time for her maid to try to set out her soft light scanty hair, to make her satin and gauze look anything but limp and flabby, and to put on her jewels, in the vain hope of their making her seem well dressed. Whatever was ordained for her to wear, Emma always looked exactly the same. She opened
her door at the same moment as Violet advanced into the gallery, her tall taper figure arrayed in bridal lace, not much whiter than her long neck and rounded arms, a wreath of roses around her dark tresses, brilliant flowers in her hand, her soft eyes bright with pleasure, and her beauteous complexion deepened by bashfulness.
Emma could not repress her delight. 'Oh!' she exclaimed, 'you can't think how beautiful you are!'
'Isn't she?' said a proud, playful voice. 'Thank you;' but seeing Emma disconcerted, Arthur hastened down-stairs.
'Oh, I didn't know he was there!'
'Never mind!' said Violet, among her blushes. 'I'm glad he was. He liked it.'
'I could not help it,' said Emma. 'You are so like a story! I can hardly believe you are real!'
Violet felt familiar enough to prove herself substantial by a playful pinch. 'But look here! See what I found on my table.'
'One of those serpent bracelets. It is very pretty!'
'Was not it kind of Lord Martindale?'
'You have to thank him for it! Oh! dreadful!'
'I don't mind speaking to him. It is so kind. "Mrs. A. Martindale, from her affectionate father," the direction said. Oh! it is so very, very pleasant that he should be so kind to me. Is not it a beautiful creature! Look at its scales and its crown, and eyes. Arthur says they are sapphires.'
'Yes, I never saw a prettier one.'
'I wish Annette could see it, and all at home. Is it not like a creature in a fairy tale?'
'Like Zelinda's singing serpents?'
'Just like them. Do you know, I sometimes think I have got into a fairy tale. Everything is so beautiful and so bewildering, and unlike what I fancied.'
'Because you are so like a fairy princess yourself. Are you sure you have not a talisman ring!'
'I think I have,' and Violet pulled off her glove. 'There--that forget-me-not--the first ring I ever had. From the day he gave me that it has all been so strange, that now and then I have been almost afraid to awake, for fear it should not be true. But may I look at that diamond butterfly of yours? It shines as if it would flash in the dark.'
Heartsease or Brother's Wife Page 8