The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth
Page 793
“No! what is it?” cried the two young fellows, surprised.
“His uncle, Sir Thomas Starkey, I see, has just got shot in a duel at Dieppe,” observed Brooke.
“But before getting shot, Sir Thomas took care to leave Stanley all his property,” said the Squire. “So he’s now very well off.”
“That’s the way to it,” cried Massey. “I wish I had a rich uncle who wanted to make me his heir.”
“You would let him fight a duel, I suppose?” observed Mildred.
“Half a dozen, if he wished,” replied the young man. “He would probably get killed in one of them.”
And they all laughed, except the Squire.
“No jesting on this subject,” cried the old gentleman. “We expect Stanley, and his mother at dinner to-day.”
“Then we won’t make the slightest allusion to the duel,” said both young men, still laughing.
The party then went on to the house, where a portly butler and a couple of footmen in livery appeared at the entrance. Mildred sprang from her seat and vanished, leaving the Squire to attend to the young men.
In another minute the saddle-bags, with which the grooms were charged, were delivered to the footmen, and the Squire conducted his unexpected guests to a large and magnificently furnished drawing-room, looking upon the park and the Mere.
“Ah, here it is,” exclaimed Reginald Brooke, rapturously, advancing as he spoke towards the window, the lower part of which was standing open. “Here’s the matchless view! No one in Cheshire has such a look-out as you, Squire.”
“You flatter me,” replied the old gentleman, in a deprecatory tone, but by no means displeased by the compliment.
“I’m exactly of Brooke’s opinion,” said Massey, advancing. “You should have the scene painted.”
“It has been painted, and by a first rate artist,” replied the Squire. “The picture was greatly admired at the last Exhibition; but I’ve not yet got it home.”
While they were gazing at the lovely prospect, finding out new beauties every minute, Mildred entered the room.
She had changed her dress, and looked more charming than ever in her new costume.
CHAPTER XI.
SIR RANDAL DE BLUNDEVILLE.
As she moved towards a splendid piano, which stood at one side of the room, she observed to the young men who instantly joined her, “Are either of you musical?”
Both shook their heads.
“Your education has been shamefully neglected,” she cried, opening the instrument, and running her fingers rapidly over the keys.
“But we are both amateurs,” said Massey; “and are quite able to appreciate Miss Warburton’s brilliant performance.”
“I accept the compliment, though it is wholly undeserved,” she replied, sitting down, and commencing a gavotte by Bach, which enchanted them.
She then played a sonatina by Beethoven — played it charmingly — a gigue by Bach, and was engaged on a valse by Chopin, when an interruption was offered by the portly butler who appeared at the door, and announced Lady Talmash.
Mildred immediately quitted the piano and hastened to meet her ladyship.
She was not alone, but had with her a couple of very pretty and very well-dressed girls, whom she introduced as Miss Carleton and Miss Selina Carleton.
Mildred had often heard of them, and was enchanted to see them, and so was the Squire, with whom Lady Talmash was a special favourite.
Her Ladyship was the widow of Sir Hugh Talmash — very handsome, very captivating, and not more than thirty. As she always seemed to like the Squire’s society, and laughed at his jests, no wonder he admired her.
“We are come to have a little lawn-tennis with you, my dear,” said Lady Talmash to Mildred. “I told my young friends they would be sure of some outdoor amusement, on a fine day, at Beaucliffe.”
“And they shall not be disappointed,” replied Mildred. “There are two capital players, who I am sure will be happy to assist.”
Both the young men were known to Lady Talmash, and having shaken hands with her, were presented to her friends.
After a little chat the whole party walked out through the open window upon the lawn, and, as might be expected, the Miss Carletons were delighted with everything they beheld.
They were really two very fine girls — especially Selina — and the young men began to pay them attention.
Assisted by a footman, who had been summoned for the purpose, the Squire and his daughter were making arrangements for a game at lawn-tennis, when two more visitors were announced.
These were Sir Randal de Blundeville, a person of considerable importance, and Mr. Marston Malpas, another of Mildred’s numerous admirers.
How they all contrived to find their way to Beaucliffe on this particular day — when he expected none of them — the hospitable Squire could not imagine! But it put him out very much for a few minutes, and he had hardly recovered his usual good humour when he went to welcome the proud baronet A very stately personage was Sir Randal de Blundeville — so stiff and formal, that even his most intimate friends stood in awe of him. Sir Randal was of middle-age, and had a very commanding presence, his large features being marked by a haughty expression.
His young friend, Marston Malpas, was very deferential to him, and consequently a great favourite.
The Squire received his important visitor with some ceremony, and expressed great pleasure in seeing him, secretly wondering whether there was any particular motive for the call.
Walking towards the party on the lawn, Sir Randal bowed to Mildred, shook hands with Lady Talmash, and made himself rather more agreeable than usual. For a short time, young Malpas remained near him, but he soon afterwards joined the croquet players.
Since it was now quite clear that everybody would stay to luncheon, the Squire hurried off to give some directions to his housekeeper, Mrs. Twemlow; but he found she had made all needful arrangements.
“You might have left the matter to me, sir,” she said, somewhat reproachfully.
“I know I might, Mrs. Twemlow,” he replied, “but I thought it best to inform you now that Sir Randal de Blundeville is here.”
“I was quite aware of it,” replied Mrs. Twemlow.
He next spoke to his butler, Glossop, and bade him take care to have plenty of champagne and hock.
The butler promised attention, and satisfied that all would go on well, the Squire returned to his visitors, and found everybody engaged at lawn-tennis, except Sir Randal.
The latter was seated on a bench by himself at a little distance from the players, and the Squire immediately joined him.
“I’m glad you’re come back, Mr. Warburton,” said Sir Randal. “I have a proposal to make to you, and this is a good opportunity of making it.”
“Quite ready to listen to anything you have to say, Sir Randal,” rejoined the Squire, wondering what the deuce was coming.
“I need not tell you, Mr. Warburton,” premised Sir Randal, “that your daughter is universally admired. Her charms and accomplishments are talked about throughout the county. She seems to turn the heads, and captivate the hearts of all she meets. You won’t be surprised, therefore, to learn that she has made a new conquest.”
“Surely he is not going to propose for her himself!” thought the Squire. “I must act rather cautiously.” He then said aloud, “That depends upon circumstances, Sir Randal. I might be very much surprised.”
“But if I tell you that I have an offer to make—”
“On your own part, Sir Randal?” interrupted the Squire. “However much I might feel honoured, I fear my daughter—”
“You mistake my meaning altogether, sir,” said Sir Randal. “I am not such a fool as to offer myself to a lovely girl like Miss Warburton. But I promised to say a word for my young friend, Marston Malpas, who seems to have some difficulty in pleading his own cause. In my opinion he is not ineligible, being well connected, well off, and able to make a good settlement if required.”
“Then there is an end of the matter,” replied Sir Randal, “Marston must look elsewhere for a wife.”
“Pray tell him that I should have liked him very much for a son-in-law,” said the Squire. “But I have really no voice in the matter.”
“I will tell him what you say, sir,” replied Sir Randal, with an incredulous smile.
Young Malpas had watched the interview between his representative and the Squire, and quite understood what they were talking about.
The significant look given him by Sir Randal told him that his hopes were crushed.
“Well, I shan’t die of disappointment” he thought
CHAPTER XII.
LUNCHEON.
ABOUT half-an-hour later luncheon was announced.
A joyous response was made on all sides to the summons, and those engaged at lawn-tennis immediately ceased playing.
Offering his arm to Lady Talmash, the Squire begged Sir Randal to take charge of Mildred; and, leaving the young men to choose whom they liked, he led the way to the house.
The dining-room windows, like those of the drawing-room, looked upon the lawn, and being left open the guests could enter as they pleased.
The portly butler and the footmen were there to attend upon them, and find them places at the large round table in the centre of the room, laden with cold viands, and glittering with silver and glass.
In a very few minutes all were seated — and very agreeably to themselves, as it seemed — when it was noticed there was a vacant chair on the right of Lady Talmash.
At the very moment, when the superfluous chair was about to be removed, some one appeared at the window, and proved to be Stanley Brereton.
Though very much surprised to see him, the Squire instantly sent the butler to beg him to come in. Stanley at once complied, and bowed to the company, while the Squire, pointing to the vacant chair, said merrily, “A seat, you perceive, has been kept for you, my boy. But you are rather earlier than I expected.”
“A word will explain,” replied the young man. “After your departure, my mother decided on remaining at home to-day, so I agreed to walk over and let you know. And here I am.”
“And very glad I am to see you,” replied the Squire.
A good deal of laughter followed Stanley’s brief explanation; but all the party, though surprised, seemed pleased to see him — especially Lady Talmash.
“I’ve just been told that he has succeeded to his uncle, Sir Thomas Starkey’s property,” observed Sir Randal to Mildred. “Can it be true?”
“Yes, quite true,” she replied.
Then everybody began to talk about the young man’s good fortune, and many of the remarks — though made in a low tone — could not fail to reach his ears. Luckily, they were very complimentary.
Meanwhile wings of cold chicken, with slices of tongue and ham, together with portions of pigeon pie and other matters, were handed round, while the glasses foamed with champagne; and in a very few minutes the conversation became much more lively.
The Squire was delighted, for nothing pleased him more than a merry party.
“I am so glad your ladyship came over to us today,” he said. “Those Miss Carleton’s seem very nice girls.”
“Uncommonly nice girls,” she replied. “I must introduce you to them presently,” she added to Stanley. “By the bye, have you fixed any plans? Do you mean to stay in this part of the country?”
“HI answer for him,” interposed the Squire. “He means to restore Brereton, and make a much finer house of it than this.”
“That would scarcely be possible, I think,” smiled Lady Talmash.
“Wholly impossible,” said Stanley. “The Squire is only jesting. But I mean to do something for the old place.”
“I used to admire it, but I have not seen it lately,” observed her ladyship.
“No one has,” replied Stanley; “and I was about to abandon it altogether, when my uncle, making me his heir, has preserved Brereton to the family.”
“Very satisfactory,” said Lady Talmash. “When you have finished your improvements you must ask us all to come and see your place.”
“The improvements will take a long time,” remarked the Squire. “He must ask us soon.”
“Never mind the house being out of repair,” said Lady Talmash. “We are sure to be pleased with it. Besides,” she added significantly, “you may find other arrangements necessary.”
“Precisely what I told him,” observed the Squire.
“I will follow your ladyship’s advice,” replied Stanley; “and I hope you will allow me to consult you?”
“Don’t hesitate at any time,” she rejoined, in the most affable manner.
While this conversation was going on, more champagne had been handed round, and sweets and patisserie had succeeded the solids.
After all, champagne is the only wine at luncheon. Hock is very well in its way, and has its charms for men, but it does not raise the spirits so quickly as champagne, and is therefore not so much liked by ladies.
We do not know how often Glossop went round the table, but whenever he made the circuit, he allowed no glass to remain empty.
Thus the party became remarkably cheerful, and a great deal of laughter was heard as they issued forth upon the lawn.
They did not immediately resume their pastime, but collected in two or three groups.
Lady Talmash did not forget her promise, and introduced Stanley to the Miss Carletons, with whom he seemed much pleased, but they were still engaged to Massey and Reginald Brooke.
Before he could address himself to Mildred, the Squire came up, and took him to Sir Randal, who had begged to be made known to him.
“I have only just learnt that you have succeeded to your uncle’s property, sir,” said the Baronet. “I knew Sir Thomas Starkey well, and liked him. When he was young — about your age — there never was a finer-looking man, nor a more perfect gentleman.”
“I am much pleased, Sir Randal, to hear you speak in such terms of my uncle,” said Stanley. “Though his nearest relative, I really knew very little of him, but I always thought him very handsome.”
“So he was,” replied Sir Randal. “I am very much concerned at the manner of his death, but I will say no more about that. Miss Warburton tells me you are likely to remain amongst us.”
“It is my intention to restore Brereton and occupy the place, Sir Randal,” said Stanley. “You will be surprised to see me here to-day. But I expected to find Mr. Warburton and his daughter quite alone. Imagine my surprise at meeting a large party.”
“Oh, I understand all about it,” rejoined Sir Randal “It is quite an accident that I am here myself. But I am very glad I came, since I have met you. When you get settled I hope you will come and see me.”
“Delighted. But I am going up to town to-morrow on business, and don’t exactly know when I shall get back.”
“Adieu, then, for the present,” said Sir Randal.
And after a brief converse with the Squire, he quitted the party.
“You have gained a friend in Sir Randal,” said the Squire, coming up to Stanley, and clapping him on the shoulder. “He seemed vastly pleased with you.”
“I am equally pleased with him,” replied the other. “He is not at all the consequential personage he has been represented.”
“He can be affable to those he likes,” laughed the Squire; “but intolerably rude to such as annoy him. But won’t you play lawn-tennis?”
“No, thank you,” replied Stanley. “I mean to run away as soon as I have said a word to your daughter.”
“I’m afraid you are put opt by the party,” remarked the Squire; “but we really couldn’t help it. They all came unexpectedly.”
At this moment Mildred ran up to them.
> “You are not going, Stanley?” she died.
“Yes, he is,” said the Squire.
“I forbid you,” she cried; “and shall be highly offended if you disobey my mandate.”
“I shall be sorry to incur your displeasure,” he replied. “But you really must excuse me.”
“No, I won’t,” she rejoined. “Disobey at your peril!”
“How will you punish me?” he cried, forcing a laugh.
“You will see,” she replied. “But I advise you not to try me.”
“Come! come! this is all nonsense!” cried the Squire. “Don’t compel him to stay against his inclination.”
At this juncture, Reginald Brooke called out to Mildred that she was wanted.
“I’m coming,” she replied. “Take heed,” she added in a low tone to Stanley. “You’ll repent it if you go.”
And she hurried away.
Stanley looked rather perplexed, but the Squire treated the matter as a jest.
“Don’t stay, if you don’t like it,” he said.
“Farewell, then,” rejoined Stanley, shaking his hand. “Don’t come with me!”
And he slowly quitted the lawn, without once looking back.
Mildred could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw him depart. She fully expected him to obey her injunctions, and was very much provoked by his disregard of them.
“I will never see him again! — never!” she mentally ejaculated.
“Is Mr. Stanley Brereton gone?” inquired Lady Talmash.
“I suppose so,” replied Mildred, as if it was a matter of perfect indifference to her.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” cried her ladyship. “I wanted to talk to him about several things. He didn’t give me a hint that he was leaving immediately.”
“It was a sudden resolve, I fancy,” said Mildred.
“Not a sudden quarrel, I hope,” thought Lady Talmash. “It looks very much like it.”
Stanley’s departure was not without its effect on Mildred.
She seemed suddenly to have lost her spirits, and Lady Talmash became convinced that her conjecture as to a quarrel was correct “Precisely the occasion when a misunderstanding ought to have been avoided,” thought her ladyship.