“I have no real trouble, dearest mother,” he rejoined. “But I own I am disappointed that my wife won’t come and live here. This morning I remonstrated with her on the subject, and she told me, in plain terms, that she dislikes the house. Naturally, I was provoked.”
“It certainly is unaccountable that she should have such an aversion to the place,” rejoined Mrs. Brereton. “But after all, it doesn’t much signify, for you have another house quite as good — if not better. So you must endeavour to reconcile yourself to the deprivation. I was afraid some misunderstanding had taken place between you and your wife; and if such had been the case, I should have been really grieved.”
“Then give yourself no uneasiness, dear mother. Mildred and I have not yet had our first quarrel, and mean to avoid it. Lady Talmash keeps all straight between us. As to my excellent father-in-law, he is really the very best fellow on earth, and I believe would do anything to please me, except part with his daughter.”
“Why he has parted with her — he has given her to you, my dear boy,” exclaimed his mother, laughing. “What more would you have?”
“I want to have her all to myself. I want her to live here, at Brereton.”
“The present arrangement is much the best, if you could only think so. Your wife has such an indulgent father that she cannot leave him. Nor is it necessary or desirable that she should. You, yourself, would be of his opinion if you could only view the matter calmly. Your wife, I suppose, does not object to your spending part of the day here?”
“On the contrary, she urges me to do so,” he replied.
“Very well, then, what more do you want? The good, generous Squire takes care you are put to no expense. Few fathers-in-law would behave so liberally.”
“I grant it all,” rejoined Stanley. “Nevertheless, I should very much prefer to live here with my wife.”
“Get rid of that notion as soon as you can,” cried his mother, rather impatiently. “You cannot possibly be better off than you now are. Most young men would envy you. Besides, your lovely wife is safer at Beaucliffe than here.”
“How so, mother? Do you mean to insinuate that I couldn’t take care of her?”
“No such thing. But the fact that she is with her father ought to relieve you of all anxiety concerning her.”
“Her father is not particularly vigilant,” cried Stanley.
“More vigilant than you imagine. She is in no danger with him. I advise you to let things remain as they are.”
“I won’t make any promise, lest I shouldn’t be able to keep it.”
After a brief silence, he again looked at his mother, and said, “Why didn’t you inform me of poor Rose’s illness?”
“Because Lady Starkey desired me not. What need was there to write to you about it? You had ceased to care for her.”
“Not so. I felt — and still feel — the deepest interest in her; and am rejoiced to learn that she is now out of danger.”
“Stanley,” said his mother, gravely, “you must think no more of Rose. She has quite conquered her love for you. At one time we thought her heart was broken.”
“Broken, mother!”
“Ay, broken. But Lady Starkey succeeded in convincing her that her affections were misplaced, and saved her.”
Stanley could not repress a groan.
“Let us dismiss this subject,” said his mother. “And I beg you won’t mention poor dear Rose’s name to me again.”
“Fear it not,” he replied, in a tone of anguish. “But I must tell you how deeply I have reproached myself for the suffering I have caused her.”
“I don’t wonder at it,” she rejoined. “And now no more.”
They were still sitting together, talking of other matters, when the noise of horses feet was heard in front of the hall.
Stanley jumped up, and, hastening to the window which looked out upon the entrance, beheld his wife, accompanied by her father and Lady Talmash, and attended by a couple of grooms.
Mildred, who never looked better than in her riding-dress, was mounted upon her famous hunter, and seemed in excellent spirits. She was talking and laughing joyously.
Surprised that they did not dismount, Stanley went to speak to them. As he passed through the entrance hall he met Minshull, who told him they were not coming in, but wished to see him.
“What the deuce is the matter?” thought Stanley, quickening his steps.
“Stanley, dear boy,” cried Mildred, as he made his appearance; “we’ve only just called to tell you that we are riding to Bostock Hall. We don’t want you to go with us — unless you like.”
“Come along!” cried the Squire. “A ride this fine morning will do you good.”
“Yes, I strongly recommend it,” added Lady Talmash.
“I’ll follow,” replied Stanley. “I’ve got something to do here that I want to finish.”
“Poh! That’s a mere idle excuse,” cried his wife. “But do just as you please.”
By this time Mrs. Brereton had come out, and begged them to stay, if only for five minutes “Can’t get off my horse, thank you, ma’am!” cried Mildred.
“Do, my dear, just to oblige me,” urged Mrs. Brereton. “There are several things I want to show you.”
“I’ll see them another time — not now,” replied Mildred. “Come along, papa.”
And kissing the tips of her fingers to Mrs. Brereton, she rode off, attended by the others.
“There goes an affectionate daughter-in-law,” observed Stanley to his mother. “I hope you are pleased with her.”
“Very much,” replied Mrs. Brereton. “I thought she looked quite beautiful, and as you married her for her beauty you ought to be equally well pleased.”
“I said I would follow them, but I doubt if I shall,” observed Stanley.
“That doesn’t look as if you cared for her society,” said his mother. “Keep your promise.”
Stanley made no reply, but went into the house.
The party, who had just left Brereton Hall, had not ridden more than a couple of miles, when they saw a gentleman on horseback coming towards them.
Even at a distance, Mildred fancied she recognised him, but as he drew nearer she felt quite sure it was Captain Darcy, and said so to the others.
Darcy, for he it was, knew them as soon as they knew him, and riding forward, took off his hat, and expressed the great pleasure it afforded him to meet them.
“I have been staying for a few days in this neighbourhood, Mr. Warburton,” he said, “and was on my way to call on you.”
“Sorry I shan’t be at home to receive you, Captain,” said the Squire. “But will you come and stay a day or two with me at Beaucliffe?” Then, without waiting for an answer, he added, “Come to dinner, come to-morrow, if it suits you.”
“I shall be enchanted to accept the invitation,” replied Darcy, “if Mrs. Stanley Brereton approves of it.”
“Oh, I should be happy to see you,” rejoined Mildred. “Besides, I never interfere with papa’s arrangements, nor does my husband, though we are staying with him.”
“Then I’ll come with the greatest pleasure,” replied Darcy.
Fancying Lady Talmash looked rather grave, he now addressed himself to her, but did not succeed in winning a smile.
“Where are you staying, Captain?” asked the Squire.
“At Bostock,” he replied.
“How odd!” exclaimed Mildred. “Why, we are now going there.”
“Then since it is needless to call at Beaucliffe in your absence, I will ride back with you,” said Darcy.
And as he joined the party, he contrived to place himself near Mildred.
“I see you have got my old horse,” he said. “I hope you like him as well as ever?”
“Better than ever,” she rejoined, smiling.
“That’s satisfactory,” he cried. “You see, I have ventured into your neighbourhood,” he added, lowering his tone, “though I was almost afraid to do so. And now to my great surprise
and delight I have got an invitation to come and stay with you. I hope I didn’t do wrong in accepting it, but I really couldn’t resist.”
“Make yourself quite easy. Papa will be very glad to see you.”
“But what about your husband?”
“I can’t exactly answer for him. But I don’t think he will mind your coming.”
“Well, I will do my best to please him.”
“In that case it is not improbable you may succeed.”
While this conversation was passing, Lady Talmash observed to the Squire, “I’m sorry you have invited Captain Darcy. He’s the very last man you ought to have asked.”
“I didn’t think of it at the moment,” replied the Squire. “Perhaps Stanley mayn’t like it.”
“I’m sure he won’t,” said Lady Talmash. “Shall I put the Captain off?”
“No, no, Mildred wouldn’t be pleased with that. Let us hope all may turn out right.”
CHAPTER XXXII.
A COOLNESS BETWEEN STANLEY AND HIS WIFE
STANLEY did not follow the party to Bostock, and they said nothing to him on their return about the invitation given to Captain Darcy, the Squire having specially enjoined silence on the subject “Darcy is my guest,” he said, “and if a mistake has been made I alone am responsible.”
In truth, he was rather afraid that Stanley would be displeased, though he didn’t care to confess it.
Little dreaming what was in store for him, Stanley spent the greater part of the next day at Brereton, His wife had told him that someone, whom he knew, was coming to dinner, and would probably remain for a few days. But she didn’t say who it was. Nor did anybody else. So he went away in complete ignorance.
No presentiment of ill could have troubled him, for his mother remarked that he looked much more cheerful than he had done of late.
“Have you any company at Beaucliffe to-day?” she asked.
“Yes, a small dinner party, the Leghs and the Isherwoods, and another person whose name I don’t know, but who is going to stay two or three days at the house. Now, that’s a thing I don’t like. When I know the people it’s all very well, but I can’t bear to meet strangers.”
“Mr. Warburton’s friends are all nice people,” said the mother.
“Not at all,” he replied. “There are some I wouldn’t meet if I could help it.”
“You have grown so very particular.”
“I’m particular about my wife — not about myself. I don’t like to meet certain persons.”
“Pooh! pooh! — don’t make yourself uneasy.”
“I try not to do so — but I can’t conquer the feeling. I believe I must be jealous.”
“I really believe you are,” replied his mother, laughing. “But since you would marry such a lovely creature, you must pay the penalty of your imprudence. Mildred cannot fail to be admired.”
“She likes admiration too much,” cried Stanley. “You were always aware of that, my dear boy. It’s too late to complain now.”
On his return to Beaucliffe, late in the afternoon, Stanley overtook a gentleman, who had a military air, and was followed by a groom, the latter being provided with saddle-bags, and carrying a valise. Evidently, this must be the unknown guest.
What was Stanley’s astonishment and annoyance, when he discovered that the supposed stranger was no other than Captain Darcy.
On seeing him, Darcy bowed very courteously, and held out his hand, which Stanley felt bound to take.
“You look as if you didn’t expect me, Mr. Brereton,” said the Captain smiling. “Perhaps, Mr. Warburton may not have mentioned that he invited me yesterday to dine with him and spend a few days at Beaucliffe.”
“He certainly did not,” replied Stanley, controlling himself with difficulty.
“Ah! That quite explains your surprise,” cried Darcy. “However, such is the fact, and I need scarcely say I had the greatest pleasure in accepting an invitation so agreeable in every way. Though rather late in the day, I hope I may be allowed to congratulate you on your marriage with Miss Warburton. As you are aware I once aspired to her hand myself, but met with the fate I deserved.”
In spite of his dislike of Darcy, there was something in the Captain’s manner that favourably impressed Stanley. Perceiving this, the other went on in the same strain —
“I trust we may become great friends, Mr. Brereton,” he said. “Naturally, I was very much provoked at losing such a great prize as you have won. But reflection soon convinced me that you are the right man, and reconciled me to my fate.”
Stanley could not avoid laughing at this apparently frank avowal, and Darcy saw that his point was gained.
“Now that I have given you this explanation, Mr. Brereton,” he said, “I trust you will dismiss any feeling you may have against me.”
“It is already gone,” replied Stanley, beginning to think him a good fellow.
Shortly afterwards, he looked round, and exclaimed —
“Here comes Mr. Warburton, with my wife and Lady Talmash.”
“So I see,” replied Darcy.
When the parties met, the Squire was greatly relieved to find his son-in-law and his guest already on such good terms.
“Why didn’t you tell me Captain Darcy was coming?” said Stanley to his wife, in a tone of good-natured reproach.
“I’m to blame!” cried the Squire.
“I kept it for you as an agreeable surprise,” said Mildred. “I was certain you would be delighted to see him.”
“So I am,” replied Stanley, shaking hands with him again, and more heartily than before.
By this unexpected meeting all the Squire’s misgivings were put to flight, and Mildred was secretly pleased.
But clear-sighted Lady Talmash, whose suspicions had been aroused by Darcy’s manner, became more uneasy than ever.
Darcy was really charmed with the house, which far surpassed his expectations, and told Stanley again he was the luckiest man of his acquaintance. Stanley made a suitable reply, but didn’t seem quite sensible of his extraordinary good luck.
The party invited to dinner was small, consisting of Mr. Legh, the Rector of Birch, and his wife, with Mr and Mrs. Isherwood, the lady being very handsome and attractive.
Darcy sat next to the young mistress of the house, but did not devote himself exclusively to her, but talked a good deal to the captivating Mrs. Isherwood, who sat on his other side, and seemed much pleased with him.
In a word, he made himself generally agreeable, and pleased everybody except Lady Talmash, who occupied her usual place on the right of Mr. Warburton. On the Squire’s left was Mrs. Legh, and next to her sat Stanley.
Darcy, who occasionally cast a look at him, thought him rather dull. He certainly was not very lively, but this might be attributed to his abstinence from wine.
“Would you believe it, Captain Darcy,” remarked Mildred; “my husband has become a teetotaler.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Darcy. “You surprise me.”
“Quite true, I assure you.”
“Hum,” exclaimed Darcy, noticing that Stanley overheard the discourse. “I wish I could say as much. But I confess I am rather fond of a glass of good wine — especially champagne.”
“Wine is excellent in moderation,” remarked the jovial rector of Birch, who sat on the other side of Mildred, and was very partial to her father’s old port. “Tell your husband I said so.”
“I will,” she replied, laughing.
“If he wants any proof that good wine is beneficial,” added the Rector, “he has only to look at his father-in-law, who is the picture of good health.”
“I never saw a man in finer condition,” said Darcy.
At this moment the butler appeared with champagne.
“I certainly shan’t refuse it,” said Darcy, laughing.
“Nor I,” added the Rector.
After dinner a bottle of the famous old port was introduced and finished by Mr. Legh and the Squire — Darcy and Mr. Isherwood conten
ting themselves with a few glasses of exquisite Laffitte — and Stanley drinking nothing.
The conversation turned on the political questions of the day, and was almost entirely conducted by the Squire and the Rector, both of whom were staunch Conservatives — perhaps we ought to call them good old Tories, Though he found it somewhat difficult to put in a word, Darcy expressed a decided approval of their opinions, and in consequence rose in his host’s estimation.
One of the Squire’s axioms was that a rubber at whist should always follow a bottle of port.
So he made up one for himself and the Rector, while his lovely daughter enchanted the rest of the party by her brilliant performance on the pianoforte. Darcy stood by her side all the time, and Stanley talked quietly, and in a low tone, to Lady Talmash.
On their departure, the visitors declared they had passed a most delightful evening.
“Your dinners are always capital, Mr. Warburton,” said the Rector, as he shook hands with the Squire at parting, “and that old port is magnificent.”
As he had good reason, Darcy was extremely well-satisfied with his reception. His great aim was not to arouse Stanley’s jealousy, and so far he thought he had succeeded. He could not, of course, tell what Lady Talmash was saying to him, but he concluded it was not very favourable to himself. Still, he was not much afraid of her, now that he had obtained admittance to the house.
On carefully watching the behaviour of the young pair to each other, the shrewd observer came to the conclusion that a slight quarrel had taken place between them, though whether it arose from jealousy on the husband’s part, or from some other cause, he could not determine. The Squire did not seem aware of it, but it was dear that Lady Talmash was in the secret Next morning, when they all met at breakfast, he felt convinced that his suspicions were correct A coolness had occurred between Stanley and his wife, though they took the greatest pains to conceal it from the Squire.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 802