“Did Mr. Jenkins bring you notice of it?” returned the curious boy, looking more puzzled than ever; but Sir Charles suffered the question to drop unanswered, and, excepting that now and then what seemed a very unmeaning smile crossed his features, he gave no farther indication that anything particular had happened to him.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
When the whole party met again at dinner, Sir Charles Temple had not only recovered his composure; but, either from innate contentment of mind, OF an amiable determination that, happen what might, the time present should be made as generally agrees able as possible, he exerted himself more than he had ever done before to faire l’aimable to the three Misses Wilkyns, to make everything go as smoothly as might be between Sophia and the Heathcotes, and finally to make the unfortunate heiress herself feel as much at her ease as it was in her stiff nature to do.
Though not a word or sign of intelligence of any kind bad been exchanged between Sir Charles and Mr. Thorpe, since their parting in the morning, it seemed as if they were acting in concert; for Mr. Jenkins (as he still was to all save one) assumed a tone of general sociability to the party, accompanied by the most marked attention to Sophia, which greatly contributed to make the present evening go off more lightly than the last. The musical powers of the Welsh heiresses were, as heretofore, brought toward for the benefit of the company; Florence was prevented by a considerate whisper from Sir Charles from singing at all; Algernon confined his experiments upon the risible muscles of his stepmother within tolerably decent bounds; Major Heathcote bad a candle to himself by which to enjoy the newspaper; and Mr. Wilkyns reposed in the deepest and widest of all the arm-chairs without being interrupted by anybody.
For the first half hour after the servants retired with the tea-trays, the tranquillity of Sir Charles was a little shaken by the expectation that Mr. Thorpe would, perhaps, if he intended himself to be the organ of the discovery which was to be made, choose this time for it. But he soon became convinced that such was not his plan; and that for the present he was more occupied in profiting by his incognito, for the purpose of becoming better ac quainted with his relations than with any projects concerning the manner of throwing it off.
Nor was this system, the fairness of which the only person who understood it could not but approve, confined to that evening only. For a whole week Mr. Thorpe exerted himself most assiduously to become acquainted with his cousins Wilkyns, and his cousins Heathcote, and showed considerable tact in the prosecution of his object. With Algernon he passed many chatty hours in the library, during which the unconscious boy was subjected to an ordeal that was to decide whether his situation in life was to be that of a man of handsome independent fortune with unlimited power to indulge the taste and liberal ambition so strong within him, or that of a poor soldier of fortune, without one grain of liking for the profession which beyond all others, perhaps, requires to be pursued con amore in order to render it tolerable. And lucky was it for him that he was unconscious of all this; for had it been otherwise his young spirits would hardly have had firmness enough to permit his doing himself the justice he now did.
With the Misses Wilkyns, Mr. Jenkins flirted almost enough to alarm Sophia for her own preeminence in his favour, for so only, as he speedily discovered, had he any chance of becoming sufficiently intimate and familiar with the Welch ladies, to ascertain in any satisfactory degree of what stuff they were made. It was with a watchful eye, too, that he marked each lovely trait of opening character in Florence; and so well did she bear the scrutiny, that it may be, the repentant wanderer might have been tempted to try his chance of being permitted to bask for the rest of his days in the warmth of her smiles, instead of under that of an eastern sun, had he not perceived as plainly as he did all Other things that were going on about him, that she had been already wooed and won.
To one who had as deep and lively an interest in the game thus going on, as Sir Charles Temple, and who understood it as perfectly, this week was one of very great excitement, though not perhaps of very great anxiety. Whatever his opinion might be of the merits of Mr. Cornelius Thorpe in other respects, he gave him due credit for the quiet acuteness with which he carried on the analysing process, upon which he perceived he was engaged, and felt very satisfactorily convinced that his judgment would be as correct as the means he took to form it were judicious. Not a syllable farther was exchanged between them on the event that was approaching; but each plainly, though tacitly, approved the proceedings of the other, and their mutual good understanding did much towards making these probationary days pass easily, yet to the purpose.
It should seem that the wealthy nabob had a notion that trinketry, in general, possessed somewhat of a touchstone quality, which made it exceedingly useful in such a business as that upon which he was now engaged; for he presented sparkling proofs of his power to be generous to every female of the party, and certainly reaped therefrom no trifling gleanings of character.
In short, he proceeded with a very rapid pace towards such a general intimacy with the whole party as to enable him to converse unreservedly with them all; taking care, the while, to make Sophia continue to feel her own pre-eminence with him sufficiently to prevent her becoming seriously jealous of any one.
Almost the only result produced either to the Spencer or the Wilkyns families from the meeting at Thorpe-Combe during the preceding Christmas was the friendly sort of intercourse which from that time had been kept up between them. All the Welsh heiresses, and particularly the eldest, felt great admiration and respect for the fashionable style and tone of Mr. Spencer They liked to talk of him, and call him “uncle;” to repeat his anecdotes of all the lords and ladies of his acquaintance; and to make it known to all who chose to listen, that the only one of their maternal connexions for whom they felt any real affection was their uncle Spencer of Spring Gardens, who was one of the most really elegant and highly connected people they knew. Mr. Spencer, on his side, in a considerable degree returned the partiality. He thought the Wilkyns girls, as he called them, acute and discerning; gave them credit for understanding extremely well the first interests and most important springs of action in life, and had moreover a vague notion that if the two ugliest remained old maids, the third might make a very profitable wife for one of his sons.... a trifling disparity in age being no object whatever to people who take a proper view of the institution of marriage.
The result of these amicable feelings on both sides was an occasional correspondence by letters between Mr. Spencer and the eldest Miss Wilkyns, which had been greatly fostered by their mutual desire of expressing their feelings on the subject of old Mr. Thorpe’s abominable will,” and by the occasional interchange of woodcocks from Wales and caricatures from London.
The circumstance of Miss Martin Thorpe’s invitation to the Combe with the strange reason assigned for it, furnished Mr. Spencer with an opportunity for despatching a letter to his fair correspondent, in answer to one, rather too long ago received from her, He was, moreover, rather curious to know whether the Wilkyns family had received the same, and in what manner they had acted concerning it. This letter from Mr. Spencer was forwarded to Thorpe-Combe, and delivered to the charming Elfreda as she sat beside Mr. Jenkins at the breakfast table.
“Did you know anything of Mr. Spencer of the Treasury, daring your former intimacy at Thorpe-Combe, Mr. Jenkins?” said she to her neighbour as she put the slightly read epistle into her pocket; “he married one of my aunts, but I am sure I forget what her Christian name was.”
“I cannot say I remember much about him,” returned Mr. Jenkins, “but it was hardly civil of him to return no answer whatever to the letter which your cousin Sophy wrote to him at my request... at the same time she wrote to you. My motive for wishing to become acquainted with him was surely not such as was calculated to offend any man. I should have thought it equally unjust and uncourteous towards his boys.... who bear exactly, the same relation to my old friend, as you do, my dear Miss Wilkyns, and the rest of the young pe
ople here.... I should have considered it as extremely unjust, had I left them out.”
“I never heard anything so extraordinary in my life,” replied the fair Elfreda, with vehement indignation. “I am sure your kindness and generosity to us all demands a very different return.”
“I wish no return for anything I can do for you,” replied Mr. Jenkins, “but civility from those who do not know me, and as much kindness as they can spare, from those who do;.... but if, as I presume, your letter be from him, Miss Wilkyns, I wish that in your reply to it, you would explain to him what my reasons were for seeking the honour of his personal acquaintance.”
“Trust me for that, dearest Mr. Jenkins!” replied the young lady with great enthusiasm; “his behaviour deserves the severest reprobation, and if I write to him at all, which he hardly deserves, he shall receive a tolerably strong hint of my opinion on the subject, at the same time.”
In truth Miss Wilkyns, notwithstanding her affectionate partiality to her uncle Spencer, was not sorry to have an opportunity of proving to him that she had in this instance proved infinitely the better politician of the two; and accordingly among an agreeable variety of Thorpe-Combe chit-chat, she found room for the following passage in her answer: —
... “I must confess, however, that I think you were wrong, my dear uncle, in returning no answer to my cousin Martin Thorpe’s invitation. If she alone were concerned, indeed, the natural indignation which, as I have often said, I know you must feel at the abominable manner in which she contrived to cut out your charming boys from a property, which, for a thousand reasons, ought rather to have belonged to one of them, than to anybody else; if she alone had been concerned, I could hardly have blamed you for acting as you have done. But really Mr. Jenkins is a person that I could have wished you to know. Not but what he is the greatest quiz and the greatest bore that I ever met with in the whole course of my life; but it is quite certain that he must be immensely rich, and it really seems to me that he does not know what to do with his money. Not content with making the most elegant presents in precious stones to myself, my sisters, Florence Heathcote, and Sophia Martin Thorpe, fancy him giving a magnificent pair of diamond earrings to that poor fat Mrs. Heathcote, who had no more connexion with the late Mr. Thorpe, you know, for whose sake he professes to do all these generous deeds, than the man in the moon. However, on the whole, I cannot help thinking I was right in persuading papa to come. Our brooches and bracelets are really beautiful, and I am very far from feeling certain, that the queer little man may not give us more substantial proof still, of his strong attachment to the race of Thorpe. You never saw anything more perfectly handsome and gentlemanlike than the gold repeater he has given Algernon; and I could not help wishing, when I saw it, that it were destined for the waistcoat pocket of one of my Eton cousins.... the neck-chain too, which suspends it, is by far the richest I ever saw.... My cousin Algernon, by the bye, has perfectly recovered his health, and is certainly extremely handsome, but a million of leagues as yet from approaching in elegance and fashionable tone of manners to your two charming boys.... As to my cousin Florence, I am sorry to say that she is greatly altered for the worse, having become within the last six months the most complete flirt I ever had the misfortune of meeting; and it strikes me as rather singular that Sir Charles Temple, who must have seen something of good company abroad, should choose to expose himself in the manner he does, by encouraging this abominable propensity. As to Major Heathcote, I do think he deserves to see something very disagreeable indeed happen to her, for neither Sir Charles, nor the bold girl either, put the least restraint upon themselves when he is present, but go on flirting and laughing, and reading sentimental books together, in away that I really think would shock you.... that is in a girl that is in some degree a connexion of your own... for, alas! I know that you men of fashion are not half so fastidious as you ought to be about the manners of ladies in general.”
As this was written in the dear departed days of unlimited official franking, Miss Wilkyns indulged in a good deal more of the same kind of desultory gossip, which she was encouraged to do by her uncle Spencer’s reiterated assurances that he found her letters excessively entertaining.... but enough has been already transcribed to answer the purpose for which the extract has been given.
Even if Sir Charles Temple had not approved, so entirely as he did, the patient coarse of investigation by which Mr. Thorpe was endeavouring to become acquainted with the merits and dispositions of his Various cousins, it is probable that he would not have been very active in opposing it for certainly nothing could be much more delightful than the manner in which this interval of probation was passed by his Florence and himself. Never was love-making more pastorally simple, more patriarchally pure. The most genial of English summers gave them an atmosphere that made it a luxury to breathe. Mrs. Heathcote’s established habit Of conveying all her multifarious needle work to the banquet ingroom made the daily migration of the family to that much-loved spot a matter of certainty... and can it be doubted that the master of the beautiful domain.... poor as he was.... contrived to make it as nearly a paradise for them all, as any fancy, not utterly blasee could desire?
Nor did this enjoyment appear obnoxious to any disagreeable observations from the rest of the party assembled at Thorpe-Combe. the abominable flirting reprobated by Miss Wilkyns, had nothing to do with the long hoars which she passed side by side with Sir Charles on the river’s bank, her father fishing away at a hundred yards from her, without hearing a word that they said; and her step-mother, either safely deposited in the midst of her work-baskets in the banqueting-room, or else attending ho more to their billings and cooings than she would have done to the like ebullitions of eloquence from a pair of wood-pigeons. Of all this, neither Miss Wilkyns nor anybody else, excepting the particularly well-contented parties concerned in it, knew anything. Algernon either lived in the library, up to his ears in poetry and romance, or, mounted by the mysterious agency of his new friend, Mr. Jenkins, traversed the lovely lanes With him in all directions. Miss Martin Thorpe, sometimes apart “in her secret bower,” and sometimes in the pleasant society of the Misses Wilkyns, still kept watch and ward over her interest, and soothed herself into being almost perfectly satisfied that on the Whole she had no reason to fear for it. The pretty presents which the munificent family friend bestowed on her cousins, though certainly not witnessed without something of a pang, went farther toward convincing her of his power to give, than to create any doubts that, first in place, she was also first in favour. As to the Welsh giant, he had every reason to be quite as well pleased as the rest of the party; for the ci-devant study of the late Mr. Thorpe had been very courteously assigned to him as a smoking-room, and there he sat, in an atmosphere composed of beer and tobacco, as peaceably as a huge torn-cat basking in the sun.
Thus everybody was exceedingly well-satisfied and exceedingly happy. Sir Charles Temple dined with them regularly every day, and nobody even thought of asking him how he had passed the morning; Mr and Miss Brandenberry had the honour of being invited twice, but upon both these occasions Mr. Jenkins sent down a request to have dinner and Algernon Heathcote sent up to him, as he was too much indisposed to appear; — the fact being that he feared lest Mr. Brandenberry, with whom he had formerly some intimacy, might recognise his features or his voice at the dinner-table, though he had escaped this in the crowd of the Easter ball-room.
At length, however, all this charming serenity reached the point at which it was to be swallowed up in “discordance.” The stipulated week or ten days had been stretched to nearly double that space in consequence of a private hint from the hero of the party, to the mistress of the mansion, that such was his desire; but the time was come when Miss Wilkyns was permitted to give her papa’s orders for post-horses, and Mrs. Barnes told, that she need prepare no more potted meats for breakfast, nor any longer bespeak all the sirloins and sweetbreads in the country.
In short the hour arrived in which Mr. Cornelius Thorpe
determined upon making his existence and return known to his unsuspecting relations. The moment chosen was that in which the whole party were assembled in the drawing-room after dinner, for the purpose of taking coffee, and before any member of it was withdrawn for that of enjoying the lovely evening hour, among the lawns and shrubberies.
The first object which struck the eyes of Sophia as she followed her lady guests into the drawing-room, was the identical portrait, by which she had dressed herself some six or seven months before with such remarkable success, placed upon a chair beside one of the windows. Some people might suppose, perhaps, that this portrait, to which she owed so much, would have been a favourite with her; but somehow or other it was not so; and When the room, now her boudoir, but formerly the bedchamber of her predecessor, was undergoing the metamorphosis which produced its present splendour, this portrait had not only been turned out of it, but its banishment accompanied by an order that it should be put into the lumber garret, “because it was an ugly thing, and the frame so very old-fashioned.”
Mrs. Barnes, however, who, as it seemed, had no ambition to signalise her last year of service by any great servility of obedience, had not deemed it necessary to obey this command to the letter, and therefore instead of consigning the said portrait to the lumber room, she had placed it exactly in the same position in the apartment of Major and Mrs. Heathcote, which it had formerly occupied in the room below it.
Collected Works of Frances Trollope Page 324