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| author | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-03-30 14:52:08 -0700 |
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| committer | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-03-30 14:52:08 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78326-0.txt b/78326-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8b6f13 --- /dev/null +++ b/78326-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4980 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78326 *** + + + + + LADY BELL + + VOL. II. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + LADY BELL + + A Story of Last Century + + + BY THE AUTHOR OF “CITOYENNE JACQUELINE” + + + IN THREE VOLS.—II. + + + STRAHAN & CO. + 56, LUDGATE HILL, LONDON + 1873 + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO., + CITY ROAD. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + CONTENTS OF VOL. II. + + CHAP. PAGE + I. A MESSAGE OUT OF THE PAST 1 + II. FREED BY THE VISITATION OF GOD 15 + III. KEEPING HOUSE TOGETHER 28 + IV. FRIENDS IN NEED 41 + V. BOW BELLS AND THE FAMILY IN CLEVELAND COURT 58 + VI. A GAY YOUNG MADAM 71 + VII. MAKING AN ACQUAINTANCE AT THE PANTHEON 82 + VIII. OPINIONS DIFFER 95 + IX. BOULTON’S COINS AND WEDGWOOD’S DISHES 106 + X. A PARTY ON THE WATER 124 + XI. DISCORD 135 + XII. THE LITTLE DINNER AT HAMPTON, WITH MUSIC ON + THE WATER 149 + XIII. A VISIT TO LEICESTER FIELDS 162 + XIV. SIR JOSHUA AT HOME 174 + XV. THE MASQUED BALL IN PROSPECT 185 + XVI. THE MASQUED BALL AS IT BEGAN IN REALITY 198 + XVII. THE “COMMON DOMINO” 210 + XVIII. ROMEO AND JULIET ON THE STAGE, AND IN LADY + BELL TREVOR AND MISS GREATHEAD’S BOX 222 + XIX. THE MEETING ON THE MALL 240 + XX. TO TIE OR NOT TO TIE THE KNOT? 251 + XXI. ISLINGTON CHURCH EARLY ONE MARCH MORNING 264 + XXII. BACK AT SUMMERHILL 276 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + A MESSAGE OUT OF THE PAST. + + +One hot day in the latter end of June, Lady Bell was sitting in the +orchard, with Mrs. Sundon’s child in her lap, cooing to it, tickling it, +tossing it, decking it with daisies, pretending to herself and to it, +that the not-many-weeks-old child noticed and appreciated its floral +finery. + +The long, flower-besprinkled grass grew all round, beneath the bending, +leafy boughs, through the shadows of which came perpetually shifting +chequers of sunshine. There could just be seen, down a vista, the +quaint, grey house of Nutfield, with the last year’s yellow corn-stacks +beyond the orchard, mellowing and warming the green and grey tints under +the blue and white cloud-flecked sky. + +Mrs. Sundon with her fine figure and face, in one of her white wrappers +and close caps, came slowly up between the interlacing boughs; she +stopped beside Lady Bell and the child, looking down upon them. The +group was very sweet and graceful, and wanted only a St. Joseph and a +little St. John to make it stand for one of the old Italian “Riposos.” + +“Look here, Lady Bell,” said Mrs. Sundon, putting her finger on a +paragraph in a newspaper which she held in her hand. + +Lady Bell started and rose up in vague perturbation. For precaution’s +sake Mrs. Sundon had abstained from giving her friend, even in private, +that friend’s name and title, since Mrs. Sundon had discovered Lady Bell +at Nutfield. What had surprised the compromising words from Mrs. Sundon +now? + +Lady Bell took the newspaper and looked at the place indicated. Her hand +was shaking, her breath was coming fast, her eyes were dazzled; but the +intimation was so plain and direct that she took in its meaning at a +glance. There was no ambiguity there to prevent the message reaching its +destination and doing its work. “If Lady Bell Trevor wish to see her +husband in life, let her return at once to Trevor Court.” + +A mist passed before Lady Bell’s eyes; the sunny June orchard, with the +soft, fair child whom Mrs. Sundon had taken into her arms, and Mrs. +Sundon herself, all grew in a moment blurred and dark, as if the very +dews of death and remorse had fallen on them. + +“Oh, Mrs. Sundon, what shall I do?” cried Lady Bell, wringing her hands. +“I did not love him, I had no cause to love him; but I was his wife, who +was yet no wife to him, and he is a dying man.” + +“Go back to him immediately,” advised Mrs. Sundon, “while there is still +time to wipe out your offence to him—it was light compared with his to +you. But it is ill having an unsettled score with the dead. This would +hang like a millstone round your neck, and weigh you down all your +days.” + +“I’ll go back if you counsel it,” submitted Lady Bell desperately, +setting off in nervous haste to the house. “But how am I to face him? if +he have strength left to lift his hand still, will he strike me as I +have seen him strike his man? Or, if he is gone, must I stay in the +house with the dead, I who never saw anybody die but Lady Lucie, who +died blessing me? Would that I had minded her precepts better; she would +not have had me leave the worst of husbands. And how many miles will it +be to post cross country, Mrs. Sundon? you have a good head and may +guess. Can you tell me if I shall be as long in going as I was in coming +here? only I did not come straight! Oh! will you be so kind as to lend +me the money you think I shall need, for I have only three crowns in my +purse?” + +“My dear, I shall take you,” said Mrs. Sundon quietly. “Do you think I +would send you off on such an errand alone?” + +“Oh, I am so thankful,” Lady Bell admitted in her relief, “now I may do +my duty at last; no, I don’t mean that,” she checked herself the next +moment, “I cannot hear of you doing such a thing. How could you leave +your baby? You are too delicate yet for such a journey—and to go to that +neighbourhood above all others. It is vastly generous of you to propose +it, just what I should have expected from you; but, of course, I cannot +consent; I shall manage by myself, somehow.” + +“Say no more, Lady Bell,” Mrs. Sundon put an end to the discussion, “I +am going with you. The child will do very well with her nurse. Do you +think I would put my child, any more than myself, between me and my duty +and privilege? I should call that treating my child very ill, paying her +a poor compliment, for which I should hope she would never thank me. I +am abler for the journey than I was for coming here. I need not fear to +go near Chevely, which has been sold, as I dare say you’ve heard. You +cannot tell what I can do without harm to my health,” declared Mrs. +Sundon, with a little bitterness. “I travelled from what had been my +home, handed into the carriage by a bailiff on starting, and went out of +town when my child was no more than ten days old. I could not have slept +another night under that roof. But even if I had been a weaker woman, I +should not have shrunk from this poor effort, and you would not have +refused me my right.” + +Lady Bell had no longer the heart, any more than the will, to decline +Mrs. Sundon’s support in the emergency. If Mrs. Sundon’s presence made +Mr. Trevor mad—should he regard it as another act of wilful disobedience +even when Lady Bell was pretending to obey him—it would be time enough +then to undertake the ungracious task of refusing the elder woman’s +countenance. + +The great news that Mrs. Sundon and Mrs. Barlowe were to set off on +horseback within the hour, availing themselves, by permission, of Miss +Kingscote’s and Master Charles’s horses, in order to reach Lumley, where +they were to hire a chaise to proceed on a journey of indefinite +duration, fell flat. It was as nothing compared to the stunning shock +inflicted on Miss Kingscote when Mrs. Sundon saw fit to communicate to +the hostess the real rank and history of her companion. + +“Lud! lud! a Lady Bell all the time, and I to have gone and found fault +with her, and kept her pottering about my business, mending lace, and +cleaning silver, lud-a-mercy, what shall I do, brother? Mayn’t I be took +up by the King or the Lords, like the ‘torney was, whom I’ve heard tell +of, no farther gone than father and mother’s day, afore we came down in +the world, and I were a mite of a child—he gave a warrant to arrest a +fine lady in her coach in the street, at the suit of a tradesman, and he +himself was had up before the justices—I mean afore the Lords, for an +insult to the quality. Mayn’t I be had up and put in prison, though I +never knowed, nor meant it, and I’ll beg her pardon over and over again, +and she was a right-down pleasant lass, madam—Lud! I’m losing my +head—lady, save when she was in the tantrums.” + +“Nonsense, Deb,” exclaimed Master Charles impatiently; “you did her a +kindness, and helped her in her end. As it proves,” he continued a +little sarcastically; “whether Miss or Madam, she has been all along far +beyond our flight, and will never waste another thought on us, now that +she has found birds of her own feather, and is ready to go off with them +to her own perch.” + +“She were a runaway wife all the same,” reflected Miss Kingscote +sapiently, “though she were ten times a Lady Bell, and she had left her +man as must have been hers in the face of day, which made the leaving a +heap bolder in my madam—nay, my lady. I vow I as good as telled her she +was no match for the Kingscotes of Nutfield.” + +“You had nothing to do to say anything of the kind, even though this +Lady Bell had been a simple waiting-maid or scullion. I don’t care +which,” Master Charles was provoked into telling his sister, as his +good-humoured indulgence gave way. “The Kingscotes have not kept their +own in the world without loss, and they can ill afford to despise the +humblest—I say that, if I am supposed to have anything to do with the +future matching of the Kingscotes,” declared the young gentleman +loftily, “and they’ll be long enough of being matched for me, since I +could bring a mate to little better than a farm-house, and a farmer’s +kin. I’ll thank you, Deb, not to meddle in the matter.” + +“There, I’ve given offence to Master Charles,” Miss Kingscote reflected +glumly after she was alone. “He’s taken to hurting my feelings by +twitting me with what we’ve lost, as if the worsest loss weren’t mine! +not that I show it neither, for I’m sure I’m a powerful fine woman, +considering my lack of education. And so she’s Lady Bell, and if she had +bidden still, I mun have said my lady every blessed word, and run at her +heels as I’ve never made her run at mine. But if this Squire Trevor, as +she has given leg-bail to, had not come on the carpet, first and +foremost, ere we set eyes on her, mightn’t she have been my Lady Bell +Kingscote! That do sound fine! prodigious fine! But if there had never +been no Squire Trevor, there would never have been no bolting, banding +with the players, turning up at Nutfield, and making friends with Master +Charles, so there is an end on’t. My Master Charles mun go to the wars, +and risk a sabre’s cut spoiling his bonnie face,” mused Miss Kingscote, +whimpering at the very thought, “afore he fill his chimney-corner, and +bring home his lady to sit down cheek by jowl with him, while I’ll be +right glad to retire to mother’s room, save when they want my company, +for I ain’t teethy or prideful—I never were. That mun be the order of +the day, as Master Charles ought to know.” + +Even before the parting, Master Charles had cause to renounce his +mortified conviction of how little he and his sister were to Lady Bell +Trevor, and of how she had done with them from this day. + +She was grateful for the assistance and escort as far as Lumley, which +he offered so soon as he ascertained that the offer would be agreeable +to her and Madam Sundon. + +Lady Bell put her head out of the chaise window at the last. Her scared +eyes looked with almost timid beseeching into his face. She told him, +without any sign of haughtiness, but with many tokens of a retentive +memory for the smallest act of consideration and kindness, of contrition +for having played a part to him and his sister, and for not having +trusted them in full, that she had been very well off and happy at +Nutfield. She hoped that his colours would arrive soon, that he would +see a campaign to his wish, and return safe and sound to cheer his +sister’s heart. + +Lady Bell sent Miss Kingscote her grateful duty. Lady Bell trusted they +would meet again, when she would be able to finish her chair-covers. In +the meantime, she would not forget to procure patterns for Miss +Kingscote. Miss Kingscote must be especially kind to Lady Bell’s brood +of chicks—the first brood she had seen set, seen hatched, and fed every +day with her own hands. + +It was plain that for the moment, in place of being eager to resume her +cast-off rank and state, Lady Bell had forgotten where and why she was +going, and everything about Squire Trevor and his danger. It was only +when the chaise rolled off, and she sank back in her corner, that she +withdrew into herself to face the grim record of the bond she had +broken, and the forfeit she was called on to pay. + +It was on a fresh summer morning, when, having started early to +accomplish the last stage of their journey, Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon +came in sight of Trevor Court. + +The gates were standing open; early as it was, the lodge seemed +deserted, so that the chaise entered without parley. The dew was lying +like pearls on the grass by the drive, and silvering the yews on the +terrace. The spirals of smoke from the red chimney-stacks were rising +straight in the clear air. A gush of birds’ song sounded far and wide. +There was something light, bright, and exhilarating in the air, and in +the aspect of nature, which lent a peculiar charm to what was imposing +in the pile of building and its grounds. + +“I have not seen Trevor Court before, save from a distance,” Mrs. Sundon +let fall the remark. “You never told me, Lady Bell, what a fine old +place it was.” + +“I don’t think I ever noticed it till the last time I saw it,” Lady Bell +replied almost in a whisper; she recalled vividly that last time sitting +on the September morning in the travelling chariot beside its master, +who lingered in taking a short leave of his treasure. + +The next moment Lady Bell gave a shriek and put her hands before her +face. The chaise had turned into the sweep before the house, where, in +sombre contrast to the summer morning, the windows were all shrouded, +and the hatchment was up. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + FREED BY THE VISITATION OF GOD. + + +It was as a quailing widow, and not as a reluctant wife, that Lady Bell +re-entered the old oak parlour, where she still trembled lest she should +hear her husband’s loud, rough accents stuttering with rage, and his +stick, when gout confined him to his chair, savagely beating the floor. + +Mrs. Walsh, in her towering cap and starched frill, received Lady Bell, +and spoke to the point, without softening or reservation. “Yes, it is +all over, Lady Bell, the Squire died last night at ten o’clock. He was +took with a jaundice on Wednesday se’en night; but no danger was +apprehended till five days ago, when Mr. Walsh writ the notice for the +papers—to no purpose, so far as the Squire’s desiring to see and speak +with you once more was concerned. You and he will not see and speak with +each other on this side of the judgment day.” + +“Oh, Mrs. Walsh, I came as fast as ever I could.” Lady Bell humbled +herself in the dust before her ancient enemy. “I know now I was a bad, +bad wife. I would give all I have in the world to be able to live the +last year over again, and do my duty by your cousin, who is lying stiff +and cold in one of these rooms, where I shall never hear him say that he +forgives me, that he makes allowance at last for my youth, my wounded +pride—what had a sinful creature to do with pride?—my forced +inclinations. Oh! tell me he did not lay his curse upon me with his last +breath?” implored Lady Bell, ready to sink down with grief and terror, +while she clasped her hands and looked up, her distended eyes brimming +over with scalding tears, in Mrs. Walsh’s inflexible face. + +“Yes, Lady Bell, you were a bad wife, and you would not take a telling +while it was in your power,” declared the uncompromising woman, standing +bolt upright, her very mittens bristling with her righteous protest. + +“Madam,” interposed Mrs. Sundon with rising indignation, “it is +monstrous to reproach this poor child at such a time. She is +sufficiently crushed by the nature of the event which has taken place, +following on her rashness. She will not be likely to forget it, even +without your accusations to embitter the blow. I vouch for Lady Bell’s +having lived in safety and honour since she quitted her husband. Madam, +you will not refuse my voucher?” + +“Madam, I have not heard your honesty questioned, therefore I grant that +Lady Bell has come back in honest company,” acknowledged Mrs. Walsh +stiffly, “which is more than might have been hoped, from her flying in +the face of law and duty, and exposing herself to the worst perils.” + +“Though you are the late Mr. Trevor’s kinswoman, you must know,” said +Mrs. Sundon, “that Lady Bell Trevor has been more sinned against than +sinning.” + +“I know that she is not too young or fair or fine to be accountable for +her errors to a Power before which the most wilful lady will not dare to +plead her daintiness,” maintained Mrs. Walsh doggedly. “But I know, too, +that you were sinned against, Lady Bell,” she added candidly, turning to +the overwhelmed offender. “So far as that goes, Squire Trevor did not +deserve your duty. But you had the will of a higher than my poor cousin +to consider, and where should we all be, if we got our due, and no more? +It was on the Squire’s mind at the last that he had wronged you; and he +sought to receive, as well as to bestow, forgiveness, before he could +die in peace.” + +“I did not merit it,” said Lady Bell; “but you told him, dear Mrs. +Walsh—oh, say that you told the old man that I forgave him, as I hope to +be forgiven?” + +“I charged him to repent, and if he had done any wrong to a +fellow-creature which he could atone for, to make amends. Then I bade +him turn for forgiveness for that, and all his sins, to the great God +and Saviour, against whom he had chiefly sinned, but who would never +refuse him forgiveness, since, in the very act of his seeking it, they +were pledged for his salvation.” + +“Oh, thank God! that he died in peace with me,” broke in Lady Bell +impetuously. + +“Rather thank God that he died in peace with his Maker, madam,” Mrs. +Walsh did not fail to rebuke her. “I think he did; I am fain to hope he +did, though he was not able to fulfil his part of the obligation here; +the will must stand for the deed. ‘Torney Kenyon, who did all the +Squire’s business, was from home, at the wedding of his son in Bristol. +We sent twice, but we could not get hold of the man in time. I think it +is better to tell you at once, Lady Bell, what you will hear later.” + +“As you will, madam,” replied Lady Bell dejectedly. + +“The Squire’s will was executed long before he ever saw your face, when +his estate was bequeathed, failing any heir of his body, to my eldest +son Jack. The substance of that will has been repeated since you +offended the Squire, and it has neither been revoked nor altered, as my +cousin certainly desired it to be altered, in his dying moments. But Mr. +Walsh and me, expecting that you, or some one for you, would answer our +summons, if you were in the country, have made up our minds, and will +answer for Jack at his college, to take your wishes on the matter.” + +“I have no wishes, Mrs. Walsh,” exclaimed Lady Bell hastily. + +“We shall let you have whatever compensation you desire,” went on Mrs. +Walsh, paying no heed to the demur, “being well aware that such were +Squire Trevor’s intentions while he was yet in the body, and in his +right mind, so that you are indebted to no bounty, but to bare justice +for your share of the worldly inheritance that our cousin has left +behind him.” + +“Madam, this honourable conduct does you and Mr. Walsh infinite credit.” +Mrs. Sundon could not refrain from awarding her hearty approbation to +her late antagonist. + +“Mrs. Sundon, I repeat that ‘tis but justice,” argued Mrs. Walsh with a +stateliness of her own, winding up with her own favourite axiom, “The +world and I have shaken hands long ago.” + +“You are all a great deal too kind to me,” wept Lady Bell, “a rebel who +deserted my post. But indeed I had liefer, if you do not think it an +impertinence in me to make an objection, that Mr. Trevor’s goods went to +you and your son Jack, his friends. I am sure I have no right to a +single sixpence.” + +“Beware of pride and sauciness still under the garb of +disinterestedness, Lady Bell,” Mrs. Walsh said severely. + +“Nay, I’ll do whatever you will,” Lady Bell hastened to amend her +statement, quite subdued, and feeling sadly as if she would never have +the heart to have a will of her own again. + +“Madam, a second time everything shall be as you will, and as your +friends—such as Madam Sundon and your man of business, if you will +please to name him—may decide for you,” Mrs. Walsh laid down the law. + +Lady Bell knew that she was not and never would be mistress of Trevor +Court. Not that she desired it; she even recoiled from it as from a +sacrilege. + +After the funeral, when the two ladies happened to be alone together, +Mrs. Sundon said to Lady Bell— + +“They are good people, these Walshes, my dear. I should think very good +people to deal with and to raise a country parish sunk in rude ignorance +and gross transgression. That was not your case exactly, but I think you +might have got on with them, and been the better and not the worse for +them. To be plain with you, I cannot help saying, though it may be +presumptuous, that I think I could have got on with them. I could +acquire a great regard for that woman, and I fancy I might have a still +greater for her good man. As for Sally, I should have sought to soften +her brusqueness; yet brusqueness is not so great a fault when it comes +to weighing faults. But you were too young, and you were petulant +between youth and hard usage.” + +“I shall get on with them now,” said Lady Bell wistfully, looking +incredibly young and very fair in the weeds which had been provided for +her, and which she had hastened to put on with her trembling frightened +fingers, as a mark of respect for the dead, doing it the more eagerly +because she had failed in respect for the living. + +“I see the servants look sourly on me, and no wonder,” confided Lady +Bell to her friend, “for they stood by their master, whom his wife left. +But I’ll bear it, and try to bring them to think better of me, though +Trevor Court is not mine, and I cannot stay here, and keep the old +people and ask them to serve me. Mrs. Walsh will see to her cousin’s +household, that is my comfort. I will do everything Mrs. Walsh bids me +from this time. I’ll be good, Mrs. Sundon,” promised Lady Bell, with a +faint smile at her own childishness. “But seriously, Mrs. Walsh took my +place, and saved me from a grievous reflection which would have haunted +my death-bed. She will teach me to be a self-denying, devoted Christian +woman like herself. I believe I did not judge Sally Walsh justly,” Lady +Bell finished with a little sigh of compunction and doubt. “I dare say +she was not so pert and rude as I thought her. I know she was far more +dutiful than I have been.” + +Mrs. Sundon said nothing more at the time; but she determined that she +would not leave Lady Bell with the Walshes, though Mrs. Sundon was able +to do them justice. “They were never the people, however good their +intentions, to have the guidance of Lady Bell,” reflected the lady. “Now +that Lady Bell’s spirit is broke and her conscience burdened, she would +become their slave. I had almost as soon put her into a nunnery, where +in the present state of her feelings, she would be content to take +refuge, but where in time she would be driven either into fanaticism or +hypocrisy, my generous, tender Lady Bell! Just when she is freed too, by +the judgment of God, from her cruel gaoler (God forgive him!) and +restored to hope and happiness. Why, there is a bright life before Lady +Bell which nothing has come to spoil beyond recall. So help me, I will +make it bright and safe for her as I would make it for my little Caro, +since Lady Bell came forward of her own sweet will and did what she +could to keep me in Paradise. Oh! it is well for Lady Bell that with all +her early trials she has not taken forbidden fruit into her mouth, and +found it turn to dust and ashes between her teeth. There is no great +good under the sun, but I will pursue the lesser good for my Lady Bell +when she begins to look up and smile again. Bless the child! what is the +loss by honest death of such a husband as Squire Trevor, though she was +desperate enough to run away from him, compared to what some women have +to bear? I will keep the knowledge of evil from her, as I would keep it +from Caro. She shall not fail to be, so far as I can help her, a devoted +Christian woman; but it shall be after her own kind. ‘Wisdom shall be +justified of all her children.’” + +The Squire’s funeral sermon was preached. It was not without its +unvarnished allusions, even though they were in the mouth of Mrs. +Walsh’s mild spouse, and not of the most redoubtable champion of truth +in the parish, to the evils of stout spirits, stormy passions, and +family discord. It was listened to with penitent humiliation and +meekness. + +A decent interval passed, and the arrangements were completed, by which +Lady Bell was put into possession of a moderate jointure, in addition to +her marriage settlement, from her deceased husband’s estate. + +Then Mrs. Sundon hurried her friend just a little on the plea of the +necessity of Mrs. Sundon’s return to her child, and carried Lady Bell +back to Nutfield in the first place. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + KEEPING HOUSE TOGETHER. + + +Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon were so well pleased with each other, that +they agreed finally to take up house together. They liked the air and +aspect of Nutfield so well, that they fixed on dwelling in the +neighbourhood, though no longer under the wing of Miss Kingscote. + +The two ladies rented one of the cottages _ornés_ which were beginning +to be built between the town of Lumley and Nutfield. + +Summerhill had for its nucleus a one-storeyed erection of black and +white timber, to which a wooden verandah had been added all round. The +whole was set in a large enough garden and paddock to afford room for +ingenuity to propose and execute a number of wonderful performances in +the shape of winding walks, mounds, grottos, bowers, even a dovecot and +a dairy. + +The house was unfurnished, so that the tenants had another gain in +fitting it up according to their tastes. Everything that Lady Bell and +Mrs. Sundon ordered for their use was bright and tasteful. There was a +good deal of white painted wood and white dimity, relieved by warm, +deep-coloured carpet-work and rich embroidery. + +The ladies gave evidence in the decorations of their house of ability +and refinement, according to the standard of their day. There were +home-manufactured brackets, sconces, card-baskets, and music-trays in +abundance. These things supplied Lady Bell with endless employment, and +were sources of pride and delight to her. + +Lady Bell had thought to herself, first when she became a widow, that +she should go softly mourning for her sins and her strife with Squire +Trevor all her days. She was perfectly sincere then, as well as +afterwards, and she did not cease to be sorry for having done wrong; but +to her surprise, and a little to her shame, not only did her youthful +spirits soon recover their elasticity and throw off the load of +contrition and melancholy reflections; but in addition she was very +happy—happier than she had ever been in her life before, not even +excepting her early days with Lady Lucie Penruddock. + +Lady Bell was not merely like one of those graceful creatures of the air +which, casting the slough of the chrysalis, rises buoyant in its +elegance and beauty. She had found a true mate, a companion and friend, +a natural equal and ally. + +Eventful as the last year had been, and calculated to develop her +nature, Lady Bell was not past the age when girls like her have the +strongest tendency to contract friendship with members of their own sex, +and when indeed for the most part the closest, firmest, womanly +friendships are formed. And that was the generation of women’s +friendships, crowned by the sacrifice of the world for each other, made +by the two ladies of Llangollen. + +There was just the amount of superiority in years, experience, and +acquirements on Mrs. Sundon’s part, and the kind of essential difference +between the young women to confirm Lady Bell’s romantic admiration for +her friend, without preventing a free and full interchange of sentiment +and opinion. + +Lady Bell resumed gladly and with grateful acknowledgment of the support +which she received from Mrs. Sundon, all Lady Bell’s native pursuits, +which had been so continually interrupted and baulked. + +A modern girl commanding a thousand modes of cultivation, until she is +oppressed by them, will find it hard to comprehend the self-respect and +satisfaction with which Lady Bell returned to her studies; her French—in +which Mrs. Sundon was a better qualified assistant, so far as speaking +went, than Mr. Greenwood at St. Bevis’s—her thrumming on a spinet, her +warbling of “Hark, the lark,” and “Waft her, angels.” + +Mrs. Sundon kept up her connection with town and the world, and had not +only fashions, but newspapers and parcels of books forwarded to her by +the carrier and the bookseller in Lumley. + +The ladies were abreast of their times (in which the war with America +was taking more and more serious proportions), and of the literature of +the day. + +“Sir Charles Grandison” was becoming an oldish book, and “Evelina” had +not yet come out. But Mr. Brooke’s “Fool of Quality” was making its +mark, and was warmly welcomed as a step in the right direction by all +good men and women, including Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell. In sermons the +ladies read Porteous or Blair. In poetry they studied Mason’s “Flower +Garden” and Goldsmith’s “Deserted Village,” while in travels, Pennant’s +“Tour” seemed to them to have extended to the extremity of the civilised +world. + +The absence, except at short intervals, of even a provincial theatre, +which figured so largely as an intellectual influence at the close of +the last century, was supplied in a degree to Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell. +They had the vigorous notices and criticisms of the most popular plays +and players in the town newspapers; so that even while living at a +distance, the ladies could enjoy at second-hand the heroics of “Douglas” +and the nonsense of “Polly Honeycomb.” + +Lady Bell made many charming new attainments, and that season at +Summerhill was, after all, in the fullest sense, the spring-time of her +life, when she was learning something new every day, and was fast +budding into fresh promise. + +All Lady Bell’s fine-lady gifts and graces had been originally overmuch +of the town, townish. But Mrs. Sundon had been a fine lady of the +country, as well as of the town, and could lead Lady Bell into elegant +rurality, and even inoculate the girl with a true love of the country +and of country life. + +Under Mrs. Sundon’s superintendence, Lady Bell became a lady gardener, +and advanced with rapid strides from an apprentice to a journeyman, +until, in addition to her old power of embroidering facsimiles of leaves +and flowers, she could make carpets and canopies of the plants +themselves, hang the verandah with them, and grow living orange-trees in +the window alcove of the sitting-room. She laid carnations and budded +roses, and was as intent on getting seeds of Canterbury bells and slips +of geraniums, as ever she had been on procuring patterns for aprons and +chair-covers. + +Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon had a kitchen as well as a flower-garden. They +had a white cow in the paddock in summer for their own and their baby’s +use, and they borrowed a brood of chickens from Miss Kingscote, that +they might be sure of new-laid eggs for breakfast. + +The ladies did not commit these acquisitions to their establishment +entirely to the care of their modest retinue of two maids and a man. + +Lady Bell learnt, and did not dream that the learning was derogatory to +her, to pull peas and pick gooseberries—actually to milk the cow (in a +perfunctory and not very effectual manner, it must be confessed), so +that she could aver from her personal knowledge that the syllabub, which +she had also made with her own hands, was compounded as it ought to have +been, of milk warm from the cow. She made gooseberry-fool, as well as +syllabub, and was very conceited about the deed and its success. + +Had poor Squire Trevor been alive and at Summerhill, his flighty young +wife could even have supplied him with his desiderated tansy pudding, at +this higher stage of her education, and in her greater wisdom. + +Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell dabbled in all sorts of washes, balsams, +simples, hot drinks, blackberry cheeses, and sticks of saffron. Not +being godless selfish unbelievers, and having ignorant and helpless poor +neighbours, the two ladies became in their own way unquestionable +Christian Ladies Bountiful—clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, +tending the sick, and softening the rude, so far as their light and +power went. + +Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon were the two women of highest rank and polish +for a considerable circuit of miles, but they were not on that account +disdainful and unsocial in their intercourse with their middle-class +neighbours, such as the Vicar and Mayor of Lumley, the retired military +or naval officers and their families, who occupied good houses in the +town, and cottages similar to Summerhill on the outskirts. On the +contrary, the two ladies were rightly judged models of urbanity, a +reputation which no doubt they enjoyed, being gracious where nobody +presumed on their graciousness, while they countenanced the Lumley +weddings, house-warmings, and christenings. + +Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell had a hay-making on their own lawn, to which +the whole population, so far as the Summerhill grounds would hold them, +were invited, and came and went in ecstasies with the entertainment. + +Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell became the reigning toasts of the +neighbourhood. + +It does not follow that the old world and the old town were +sycophantish; consider the women and their circumstances. + +Lady Bell Trevor, the daughter of Lord Etheredge and the widow of Squire +Trevor, of Trevor Court, in the adjoining shire, was a beautiful, +graceful, intelligent young woman of seventeen. + +Mrs. Sundon was not more than four years older, at twenty-one very +handsome, with an air of command, which had been born with her—command +too well assured to be other than simple and self-denying, or to require +haughtiness and arrogance to back its claims. + +Mrs. Sundon was a woman living in separation from her husband, it is +true, but by an act quite different from poor Lady Bell’s hushed-up +escapade. Mrs. Sundon’s separation from Gregory Sundon did not affect +her social position in the least—in effect rather elevated it. + +It was perfectly well understood through the Mayor that the details did +the greatest honour to Mrs. Sundon’s dignity and discretion. And dignity +and discretion were qualities very highly, but not unjustly, valued in a +generation liable to run into extravagant flights and excesses. + +Mrs. Sundon showed the same appreciable discretion in refraining from +accusing her husband, and in adopting, along with a chosen friend, a +life of retirement as well as of virtue in the flower of her youth, and +in bringing up her little girl—as it was quite understood Mrs. Sundon +was bringing up the child, when Caro was not yet three months old—in the +most meritorious manner. + +The very peculiarity of the two ladies’ position with the union of their +forces, gave them a freedom and weight in the society in which they +moved that they could not have commanded had they been single women, +that they could hardly have possessed had they been separate, though +each had dwelt in the house of her husband. + +With Nutfield Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon maintained the most kindly, +cheerful relations, long after use and wont had hardened Miss Kingscote +to the sound of “my lady.” When the ladies of Summerhill wished a little +variety in their domestic routine, they had only to stroll over to +Nutfield to bask in its homely cordiality, and to get a little +permissible fun out of Miss Kingscote’s uncouth whimsicalities. + +Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon could not have managed for themselves without +Master Charles to act the part of a brother to them. + +In those days, when walking on country roads was not always safe for +ladies, when they could not attend a single public place with propriety, +unless they were supported by male attendance, a gentleman who was a +privileged friend proved indispensable in every household of women. + +Sometimes the friendships thus entertained were of a peculiarly gentle +and chivalrous character, which the very scandal-loving world admitted +and respected. Thus it saw no objection—not even that of age—in the +intimate association of a young man like Master Charles with two +charming young women only a little above him in rank, since the one was +a wife and the other a widow, and both were deprived of their natural +protectors. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + FRIENDS IN NEED. + + +Only once was there an interruption threatened to the brother and sister +relations between Master Charles and the ladies of Summerhill, and that +began and ended among themselves, and had nothing to do with on-lookers. + +Master Charles called on his friends one day in a moody frame of mind. +He looked over some debatable accounts which belonged to Mrs. Sundon’s +department of the joint housekeeping. He undertook to see and settle +with the offending tradesman, and bring him to reason. He agreed to stay +to the three-o’clock dinner, and relieve Lady Bell from the chicken +carving. Still his mind was not lightened, so that his friends felt it +necessary to press him to make a clean breast of it. + +The young man admitted that he had been with a party of gentlemen on the +previous evening, when horse-racing had been discussed, and bets had +been freely given and taken over the wine. + +He had been flushed and excited like the rest, and he had made such a +book as he feared, without the greatest good luck, would be ruinous to +him, when he had not yet got his property into his own hands, and any +disgrace in money matters would put a stop to the exertions of the +friends who were seeking to procure for him a pair of colours. + +He was mad with himself, for he was by no means without sense and +shrewdness as well as principle. He heartily wished that he had joined +the army as a volunteer, sailed for Quebec or Boston in the first +transport, and been taken prisoner by the Indians, before worse happened +to him, and before he baulked the expectations of all who had taken an +interest in so foolish a fellow. He hung his head as he made the +confession. + +“Worse shall not happen,” Mrs. Sundon interposed with decision. “You are +right in consenting to confide in us; indeed, we value your confidence, +sir, and women are not always the worst councillors. I shall speak to +the Mayor to come forward and help you, if the worst come to the worst; +he will do something for my sake, as well as for yours. I shall have a +little loan at your service.” + +“And I shall club every shilling I can muster with Mrs. Sundon’s,” +proposed Lady Bell eagerly; “so pray don’t be down-hearted, Master +Charles.” + +The young man only hung his head lower. He hated to lay women under +contribution to pay for his recklessness, while he dared not, were it +but for the sake of another woman—his sister Deb—decline the assistance +offered to him in case of necessity. + +The ready generosity of his friends melted him, so that he faltered with +feeling, in place of declaiming glibly in the expression of his thanks. + +“Don’t speak of it,” Mrs. Sundon forbade him; “only let this be a lesson +to you in the future,” she added with soft earnestness. + +The young man went away subdued in his gratitude, but when the crisis +was over, he presented himself in a state of riotous glee, to free the +ladies from their promises, and demand their congratulations. + +Master Charles’s three to one and five to two had turned out, after all, +on the winning side. He had had amazing pieces of luck. + +“By George! you ladies must wish me joy, and allow me the honour and +felicity, as the town sparks say, of treating you to whatever takes your +fancy, a prince’s plume, my Lady Bell, a lace apron, Madam Sundon; sure +you richly deserve it, and I can afford to please myself for once in my +life, since in place of coming to grief by this little transaction, I +vow I have made a very good thing of it,” and he thrust his hands +braggingly into the pockets of his frock coat. + +“Yes, I claim my right to a return for my willingness to befriend you, +Master Charles,” cried Mrs. Sundon, before Lady Bell could speak. “I +thought you were to have a lesson, but I find it to be a snare. I want +no lace aprons, though I shall be happy to take one from you, if you +like to grant what I ask. Promise me solemnly, sir, on the word of a +gentleman, that you will both now and after you have entered the army, +do your best to resist betting on cards and horses, at least round a +supper-table in the heat of conviviality.” + +“But—but, Mrs. Sundon,” objected Master Charles, taken aback, becoming +immediately crest-fallen, and colouring violently. “No fellow of spirit +could be expected to give and keep such a promise. I am not soft in +these matters, I think for a novice I have shown myself as sharp as my +neighbours,” he drew himself up and laughed, though the laugh was a +little forced. “I think—I beg your pardon, but I do think you take +advantage of your kindness—I own it was very great, to seek to bind me, +as no man not a Molly Coddle and a nincompoop would be bound in the +circumstances.” + +“Oh, Master Charles, think of Henry, Earl of Morland, in the ‘Fool of +Quality,’” implored Lady Bell, “and how you were of opinion he was a +fine character, and ought to be imitated in this dissipated world.” + +“Such conduct is very fine in a book and in theory, but it won’t do for +bloods in real life and in practice,” he put her off impatiently. + +“Master Charles, I trust you will know that there are brave men and +gallant soldiers too, that no man would dare call Molly Coddles and +nincompoops, who yet set their faces against the indiscriminate betting +and gambling of this gambling age,” Mrs. Sundon told him plainly; but +that was not all. “Charles Kingscote,” she said, appealing to him, face +to face and soul to soul, as it were, when she addressed him thus by his +Christian name and surname, and with her own fine pale face working with +emotion and the anguish of remembrance. “If you only knew the misery and +degradation wrought by this curse of gambling—what generous natures have +been undone, what happy homes have been cast down in ruins, never to be +built up again. Shall I lay bare the sorrows of my life to enlighten you +and save you, if I can?” + +“No, Mrs. Sundon,” declared the young man quickly, and with pain in his +moodiness. “I shall not allow such sacrilege for my fancied needs, and I +should be an ingrate to deny your request as you put it, however +difficult it may seem to me. I give you my word, as you desire, without +farther parley—and now you will permit me to take my leave.” + +The moment he was gone, Lady Bell asked with a puzzled, pensive, rather +scared anxiety, “Will he keep his word, think you?” + +“I hope and trust he will,” replied Mrs. Sundon, looking troubled still; +“granting that it will cost him a great effort, he is manly and +honourable enough in his youth to make such an effort; and he has not +seen much bad company, that is a blessing, to corrupt him from the +beginning. Poor boy! he was so happy when he came in, and we +disappointed and mortified him. Do you know how he will regard me from +this hour, Bell?” Mrs. Sundon inquired abruptly, with a certain +wistfulness and piteousness for herself thrilling through her tones. “He +is not bumptious or quarrelsome, he is a fine, warm-hearted, +good-natured lad, but he will begin to hate the sight of me.” + +“No, no,” exclaimed Lady Bell energetically. + +“Yes, yes,” contradicted Mrs. Sundon quietly, shaking her head, “I know +all about it. A man pretends sometimes to call a woman his mistress, but +he cannot forgive her, if she ever really play the part. He will excuse +almost any error in a woman sooner than her finding him wrong, and +telling him so. She has humbled him then in his own eyes, and he cares +for that still more than being humbled in hers. She becomes irksome to +him, and he half fears her, half strives to deceive her, himself sinking +lower and lower till he ends by hating her outright. When you marry +again, Bell, if your main object be to preserve your husband’s love, +fondle and defer to him, and never admit by word or look that you +recognise he has forfeited your esteem, as well as that of every honest +man and woman, and is on the high road to destruction, carrying you and +your unborn child along with him.” + +“I shall do nothing of the kind,” protested Lady Bell, half crying at +the idea. “I shall speak the truth and clear my conscience, whether I +shame the devil or no. But on second thoughts, I shall not need, for I +shall never think of marrying again and leaving you and little Caro, and +ending our happy life here, dear,” declared Lady Bell, turning eagerly +to caress her friend. + +“You will not think of it perhaps, but you will do it all the same,” +said Mrs. Sundon as she gave back the caress; “however, we may let +sleeping dogs lie and not anticipate evil. To return to Master Charles; +see if he do not avoid me from this day.” + +For several weeks it seemed as if Mrs. Sundon’s prognostications were to +prove correct. It was not that Master Charles intermitted his visits to +Summerhill, and he was even punctilious in his continued offers of +service to the ladies; but somehow there was a change in the nature of +the intercourse, and there was a dryness approaching to sullenness in +the young gentleman’s manner to Mrs. Sundon. + +But at the close of these weeks Master Charles thought better of it, and +came looking shame-faced, yet, but frank and ingenuous as ever, and told +Mrs. Sundon, “I have been compelled to be a little more particular in my +company since the promise you made me give you, which, of course, I was +resolved to keep, come what like of it. But I have reaped the benefit of +it already, I have discovered that there are plenty of gentlemen of +parts and spirit, good judges of horse-flesh besides, who will not play +at higher than half-crown points, and will not lay a wager on a horse, +or a dog, unless it be so trifling a one that they have no anxiety about +it, and have all their minds to bestow on their proper affairs. They are +ready to welcome me to their company when they see that I prefer it. You +were quite right, Mrs. Sundon, I add my poor testimony to my promise.” + +The dryness and sullenness disappeared from that day. + +Lady Bell was jubilant at the issue, and the restoration of their +comrade, and disposed to crow over Mrs. Sundon. + +“Oh! he is a good sort, as Miss Kingscote says,” confessed the +authority, “he is more generous than his brethren. I am thankful to have +been of use to him.” This was all that Mrs. Sundon said to Lady Bell, +but in her own mind she reflected with apparent incoherence, “I could +wish that he had been higher in rank, and Miss Kingscote more +presentable. I don’t think that his being a little countrified would +have mattered to her else.” + +As a supplement to all other interests and entertainments, Mrs. Sundon +and Lady Bell had little Caro to play with—to plan for with the deepest +seriousness, to build castles in the air for with the highest +hopefulness. + +But Mrs. Sundon was different from many mothers. Mrs. Sundon not only +did not expect Lady Bell to be engrossed with her little daughter, Mrs. +Sundon herself would have thought it exceedingly ill-judged and ill-bred +to bring forward the child, and cause her to fill the first place in the +circle, forcing every other interest and satisfaction to give way to +Caro’s interest and satisfaction. + +No, little Caro, while she was dearly prized and petted, was kept quite +in her proper and purely subordinate sphere, and that under wholesome +discipline, and was decidedly a happier as well as a more modest and +artless child then and afterwards in consequence of her mother’s public +spirit in combination with her common sense. + +Mrs. Sundon would not permit Caro, unless it were absolutely +unavoidable, to interfere with a single study or pursuit, though the +mother cared for the child incessantly, and spared no thought or pains +upon her, from consecrating to Miss Caro’s wardrobe Mrs. Sundon’s most +exquisite needlework, to being the child’s first teacher in health, and +nurse in sickness. Mrs. Sundon would not allow Caro’s presence in the +morning-room—the company-room of the house, except at stated and limited +intervals. Mrs. Sundon put an interdict on Caro and her nurse being a +drag on walking and riding excursions. + +Mrs. Sundon did not carry Caro to any public place whatever, but did not +on that account withdraw from public places. Mrs. Sundon had an +old-fashioned notion that society and her friends had a claim upon her, +just as Caro had a claim, and though Caro’s claim, as her mother +delighted to acknowledge, was the greater, Mrs. Sundon did not conceive +that it ought on that account to swallow up the smaller. Mrs. Sundon +sent Caro to bed betimes, and would not suffer this, or other excellent +rules to be infringed on any pretence. + +The desirable result was twofold, Caro from her earliest infancy was one +of the healthiest, most natural, and “prettily behaved” of children. +Mrs. Sundon had the reward of being assured that the child was regarded +by all the friends of the family as a boon to be welcomed, and not as a +bore or plague to be endured. + +So summer suns and winter moons rose and set on the house at Summerhill, +and the two friends were “Bell” and “Sunny,” like sisters to each other. + +“Oh, Bell, this peaceful, rational, God-fearing time is good after the +distractions of passion and the storms of life,” Mrs. Sundon would say, +stifling all yearning in her voice, and setting her strong will to make +the best of the alleviations of her lot. + +“Yes, Sunny,” Lady Bell would answer brightly. “I get a better gardener +every month. Our place will be a spectacle next year, only the French +honeysuckle don’t smell like our common honeysuckle, exactly as lupins +are not sweet as blossoming beans. I am improving in my drawing. I +propose to try painting when the weather will allow. Mayne in Lumley is +to come out and give me open-air lessons. I shall paint our Caro nursing +her foot in its red shoe under an apple-tree—you shall see what you +shall see. But now I must tie on my hood, and run down the lane to Goody +Amos’s, with the plaster for her burn. Don’t forget that there is a +puppet-show in the town-hall, which we promised to attend this +afternoon, before drinking a dish of tea, and staying for a bit of +supper with Captain Craddock and his wife.” + +Very busy was Lady Bell—the true secret of happiness. Yet, walking home +that same evening, escorted by the gallant Captain and the Summerhill +man with a lantern, Lady Bell fell behind Mrs. Sundon and her cavalier, +and began dreaming under the stars. + +The dreams were not in the style of Dr. Young, though Lady Bell had been +lately reading his “Night Thoughts,” and admiring them greatly, as +everybody admired them then. + +The dreams implied rather a vague sense of waiting and of want, and of +stirring in the unfathomable depths even of a girl’s nature. Was +unruffled tranquillity, after all, the secret of life’s best +fulfilment?—whether was it worse to have been torn by warring passions +like Mrs. Sundon, or that passion should never be awakened in the dead +calm within? Might not the last be a greater loss to Lady Bell than the +first had proved to her friend? + +Was Lady Bell to pass through life and have adventures, be sad and glad, +poor and in comparative affluence, friendless and with many friends, a +wife and a widow, and her heart still remain void of a history? + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + BOW BELLS AND THE FAMILY IN CLEVELAND COURT. + + +“Bell,” said Mrs. Sundon one morning, looking up from a letter which she +had been reading, “here is something for you. The Sundons of Sundon +Green, who have always been on good terms with me, write to invite us to +pay them a visit in town, as they have taken a house in Cleveland Court, +St. James’s, for the winter and spring. What have I to do with town +sights and gaieties till Caro is a finished young lady? But your day is +only beginning. This invitation is the very thing for you, since I hate +to think of you being moped up here continually.” + +Lady Bell protested that she did not pine for change, and that to spend +her life with her beloved, excellent, agreeable Sunny ought to be more +than enough for her, as it would at one time have been beyond her +wildest wishes. + +But Mrs. Sundon was bent on the change for Lady Bell. “You have no +friends of your own to take you out,” Mrs. Sundon pursued the theme, +“but Lady Sundon will be quite pleased and proud to usher into the great +world a young lady of title above that of a country baronet’s wife. She +is a worthy, cordial soul, in spite of weakness for rank, and will be +really kind to you.” + +Lady Bell tried to look indifferent, but her eyes sparkled, and Mrs. +Sundon was resolute in carrying out the proposal. Nevertheless, Lady +Bell was sentimental and almost rueful the night before she was to start +for town, to which happily the Mayor of Lumley was bound in order to +figure in a deputation, and Lady Bell with a young waiting-woman who was +to be about her person, was to make the journey with the Mayor in his +semi-official capacity. + +“Caro will have forgotten me in three months,” reflected Lady Bell a +little disconsolately as she sat idle, for a wonder, in the bright, +pleasant room. “Goody Martin may have been carried off to a better world +with her cough and rheumatism. Master Charles may have got his colours, +and have marched to t’other end of this world, and been engaged in an +‘affair,’ as the newspapers call it, like the one at Lexington which we +were reading of. Your imitation Japan screens will be finished, but I +shan’t have seen every stage of the process.” + +“You won’t miss much there, Bell,” said Mrs. Sundon. + +Lady Bell continued her catalogue. “You will have read out Plutarch’s +Lives, and I shall not have had the advantage of hearing your remarks as +you went along. The spring will have come back, and be well established, +but I shall have taken a leap over the first snowdrops, crocuses, +primroses, and violets. I wonder if I shall gain enough to make up for +the loss? I begin to wonder even if I shall be permitted to come back, +and find everything as I left it here, after I have been so mad as to +quit, of my own free will, our dear, sweet home?” + +“It is not in that you need fear change,” asserted Mrs. Sundon +cheerfully, “if you come back to us unchanged yourself, Bell, that is +the question.” + +“Oh, as to that there is no fear,” declared Lady Bell confidently, +recovering her spirit. “I must ever be true to Summerhill. But ah, +Sunny!” she relapsed the next moment, “we have been so happy here—so +much happier than I ever was before. Does it not seem doubtful whether +the same happiness can be again in this troublous world?” + +“If not the same, then let us trust that there may be happiness of +another kind to supply the place of the past happiness,” Mrs. Sundon +encouraged the girl. “Come, Bell, I will not have you low on this our +last night.” + +Lady Bell forgot all her forebodings when she found herself drawing near +to London again. + +A hundred years ago, when communication was slow and difficult, and +knowledge little spread, the civilisation of the country centered +peculiarly in the capital. It was the source of every public movement, +the winter seat of the court, the high place of noble and splendid +society, the chosen resort of wisdom, wit, learning, and accomplishments +under every guise. It had its gross evils, no doubt, but so great were +its counterbalancing advantages and its general irresistible +fascination, that even the most modest and sober moralists and +philosophers, of all ages and both sexes, sighed longingly to enjoy the +benefits and charms of town life. + +And Lady Bell was town bred. The very smoke smelt sweet, and the cries +sounded melodious to her ears. + +“Oh, sir!” she addressed the Mayor as they were drawing near the great +city, while she was unable to resist putting her head out of the coach +windows. “Let us try to catch the first sound of Bow bells; let us make +my woman Rogers hear them. They do jingle so tunefully, one cannot +wonder that they caused Whittington to return, even without the cat.” + +Lady Bell’s arrant native propensity for the life, the stir, and the +variety of the town, had only been subdued into a grateful, intelligent +acknowledgment that the country also had its charms, it was not routed +out of her. She was inclined to return to her first love. + +Then, to add to the gladness of Lady Bell’s return, she was coming back +under different and happier auspices. Instead of the helpless, penniless +child, driven off to the cold welcome of St. Bevis’s, Lady Bell was an +independent woman; and though she was not a rich young widow, as Mrs. +Greenwood and Sneyd had once hoped for her, she was a young widow, with +a modest but sufficient jointure, going to her friend’s friends, who +were to consider it a credit and satisfaction to entertain her. + +The members of the Sundon family, who were in Cleveland Court, St. +James’s, were Sir Peter and Lady Sundon and her two step-daughters. The +only son of the family was a boy at school. + +Sir Peter was sixty-four, lank and lantern-jawed, and ailing, as his +appearance betokened. He had come up to town to be under some of the +medical faculty there. + +Lady Sundon was fifty-five, as hale as Sir Peter was the reverse, one of +those hearty, brisk women who did not require rouge, she was so rosy in +her matronly roundness of cheek; and did not want a stick, or the page’s +arm, she was still so active in her fulness of figure. + +The Misses Sundon were between twenty and thirty, daughters of Sir Peter +by a former marriage; while the son and heir was Lady Sundon’s only +child. The Misses Sundon were young women to whom it seemed a matter of +necessity to wear the highest heads and heels of the period, in order to +lend distinction to their poverty of form and general colourlessness. + +“You’ll be after the sights, Lady Bell,” said Sir Peter at supper. “Ah! +they ain’t worth the trouble and fatigue they give you,” he ended, +shaking his head, as he called the grapes sour which he could no longer +reach. + +“Bother! Sir Peter,” cried Lady Sundon, “to go and daunt my Lady Bell, +and she as fresh as a daisy, and as nimble as a young colt. I’ll warrant +she’ll be up to all the racketing, from the Queen’s caudle-drinking to +the opening of Ranelagh, which we can cram into the next two or three +months.” + +“Not so bad as that, Lady Sundon,” said Lady Bell; “but though I’ve seen +the sights, save it may be the newest, I confess I’ve come up to try a +taste of town gaieties again.” + +“And do you think such a fine young woman as you are will be let off +with a taste, even if that were to content you, when every maccaroni +left will be wild to make you take your fill of pleasure.” + +“La! Lady Sundon,” interposed Miss Lyddy Sundon, who, in company with +her sister, was as die-away as her stepmother was jolly, that they might +thus establish a claim to refinement and a presumptive case of +superficial grievance, against Lady Sundon. For somebody had impressed +upon the young women, that there must be hardships where there were +step-relations, and Miss Lyddy and her sister had languidly taken up the +idea as a source of interest which could not otherwise be found in their +ordinary persons, characters, and prosperous lot. “Who would care for +such rude draughts? Only a milkmaid or a ploughman could stand them. +Polite people like Lady Bell soon have enough.” + +“A fig for your philosophy, Lyddy,” protested the elder woman; “I never +saw you abstemious in your draughts, and sure I never stint you. As for +milkmaids, young women are very much alike, whether they be milkmaids or +countesses, I take it—no offence, Lady Bell. I do love a noble name and +a title, all the same.” + +“There is no offence,” Lady Bell replied with a smile. + +While Miss Lyddy insinuated a word of hurt feelings—“I wish your +ladyship would explain what you mean by not seeing me abstemious in my +draughts. I hope I know what a delicate woman owes to her nerves.” + +“Sister,”—Miss Sundon soothed the injured fine lady solemnly,—“Lady +Sundon does not mean to speak unkind. She knows that we take after our +papa, and have not her rude health and high spirits, which make her love +her joke to the degree that she may certainly mislead Lady Bell Trevor.” + +“Oh dear, no,” denied Lady Sundon with careless candour, “Lady Bell can +see for herself that you are two poor creatures not able for much, +though after all you are fit for more than you think for, only you have +got it into your heads that it is not tonish to be natural and merry as +grigs, which I was when I was like you. But it is all fudge, and you are +clean out there, as Lady Bell can tell you, and as I could have told you +myself if you would have listened to me. Ain’t the great ladies madder +than the country lasses? Han’t I seen, since I came to town, when I had +ridden out to Twickenham, her Grace of Devonshire marching in +regimentals at the head of a company of fencibles? Now, I ain’t so bad +as that, Sir Peter,” Lady Sundon challenged her valetudinarian husband. + +“No, nor need be, my lady, so long as my bridle is on your neck,” +retorted Sir Peter dryly. + +“You must have mistook,” maintained the two Misses Sundon in a breath; +“her Grace could never have done anything half so shocking. What! march +miles on a filthy miry road, in the company of hundreds of common men, +followed up by the rag, tag and bob-tail of their wives and children; +having no rest and refreshment, unless she could swig her can of ale +with the fellows at the ale-house doors!” + +“I ain’t mistaken—I can credit my own eyes,”—Lady Sundon kept her +point,—“and to march in regimentals, with a regiment of common men as +honest as their betters, was none so shocking, after the stories I have +heard told of card-playing on Sunday evenings, Sir Peter, of +masquerading, of appointments in Belsize Park, of Fleet +marriages—Parliament hath forbidden the last—you have lost that chance, +girls.” + +“Madam, would you ever liken us to it?” gasped the step-daughters. + +“Polly, your tongue wags too freely,” remonstrated her husband, “and I +won’t have you run Lady Bell and the girls off their feet. Besides, what +is to become of me?” he asked in a dolorous tone; “am I to be left to +Jebb’s gallipots and James’s powders, while you are frisking about all +day and all night? Is that what you call acting the part of a good wife, +and training up these daughters of ours in the way they should go?” + +“Oh, no fears—no fears of you, above all, my dear,” Sir Peter’s lively +helpmate reassured him. “You’ll be seen to, whatever comes of it. Were +you ever forgotten? Indeed, to suppose so, is the unkindest cut you’ve +given me and the girls this age.” And then, failing to be cut by the +cut, Lady Sundon proceeded to plan a party of pleasure. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + A GAY YOUNG MADAM. + + +With so light-hearted a head of the house, just held in check by the +mild selfishness of Sir Peter and the mild grumbling of his daughters, +Lady Bell could not have a dull time of it during her stay in town. + +No doubt there were the drawbacks which are inevitable in life, and +which make the realisation of our dearest wishes fall short of the +expectation. + +There was the tender pang with which Lady Bell, having hurried to the +spot on the first opportunity, looked on the outside of her old home, +Lady Lucie’s lodgings in Bruton Street, occupied by strangers. + +There was the pensive wonder and regret with which, forgetting the +changes in herself, Lady Bell found that even a few years had been able +to make havoc in Lady Lucie’s circle; so many of the members were old, +like Lady Lucie, and had soon followed her in death; while the younger +individuals, engrossed with their personal cares, had all but forgotten +little Lady Bell, who had so faithfully remembered them, and met her +again with the indifference of exhausted acquaintance. + +Strange moving vicissitudes had overtaken some of the old familiar +figures. + +But though they startled and affected Lady Bell for the moment, the +victims had not been so much to her, that their memory should continue +to weigh upon her mind, and the blanks which their absence made, at +first, were soon amply supplied. + +In like manner, if the very topics of conversation were changed, and +nobody seemed to remember the old Princess of Wales’s death, or the +failure of Fordyce’s Bank, Lady Bell could catch the new cue and speak +of the American war with the best. + +The Sundons, of Sundon Green, were people of good account in their own +county. Sir Peter, invalided though he was, had considerable political +influence in the heat of the strife raging between Tory and Whig. + +Lady Sundon was generally popular, even among more fastidious and +exacting people. Her good-humoured blitheness, dashed with coarseness +and worldly-mindedness, had the manifest advantage that it did not rank +high enough among the virtues to form a reproach to the halting virtue +of anybody. + +But Lady Bell possessed in herself, independent of her host and hostess, +almost all the elements calculated to insure a season’s success. She was +a complete novelty, appearing at her age, after years of rustication. +She had the benefit of acknowledged birth and breeding, to which Lady +Sundon led the way, in paying open, honest enough homage, as she frankly +confessed herself Lady Bell’s social inferior, while she displayed as +frankly her pride in taking Lady Bell about. Above all, Lady Bell was +lovely, with a dainty, arch loveliness, which her youthful widowhood +rendered peculiarly piquant. + +The presence of the Misses Sundon in Lady Bell’s company was simply the +putting of two foils beside the little lady, while the foils were useful +in dividing responsibility with her, and in rendering her security +doubly secure. + +Lady Bell was not rich to bribe suitors, but she was so far well off as +to make the pursuit of her, regarding her merely as an object of +attraction and fashion, comparatively safe to the gallant fops, wits, +and idle men of wealth and rank lounging or rioting through the hours, +and ever ready to welcome a fresh interest. + +As it happened, just at that moment, a belle’s throne was vacant, after +the conjoint reign of the three great belles of late seasons. + +Lady Mary Somerset was swiftly paying the penalty of a “wasp waist,” and +sickening to death under the burden of the honours of the Marchioness of +Granby. + +Lady Harriet Stanhope had become Lady Harriet Foley, and was on the way +with her husband to Newmarket and ruin. + +Of Lady Betty Compton, whose style and title remained unchanged, it +might be alleged, much as it was said with regard to Aristides the Just, +that the fashionable world had waxed weary of the name and fame of Lady +Betty Compton. + +Foolish Lady Betty! she ought to have inaugurated a change of some kind +betimes, and married or died after the example of her sister queens, for +there is nothing so mercurial as the wind of opinion which brings about +the installation or deposition of such an airy sovereign. + +And now Lady Bell Trevor grew the rage until she was as universal a +toast in town as she had been in humble provincial circles. + +There is no denying that Lady Bell enjoyed her success, and the writing +of it to Mrs. Sundon, in the most off-hand, unsophisticated manner. + +The pleasures of the town, which might be vapid and worse—tainted to +more thoughtful, experienced people, were very fresh and sparkling to +Lady Bell; she found a thousand things to engage and delight her at the +opera, the play-houses, the Court revisited, the ridottos, the private +assemblies. It was no trouble and distress, but great pleasure to her to +pay visits, attend auctions, and go a-shopping three mornings out of +four. It was so entire a change, though it was like native air, that she +returned to it with renewed zest. She might, probably she would, tire of +it after a time, but she could not tire of it very soon. + +And Lady Bell found it highly agreeable to be followed, besieged, even +persecuted by the attentions of those men, some of them +distinguished—whether for good or evil, or both, as elegant scholars, as +daring travellers, as dead shots (when the game was not shy partridges +or timid deer, but fellow-men, scowling in deadly enmity, pistol in +hand, at twelve paces distance), as bold riders, and betters, and +three-bottle men who, drunk or sober, could remain masters of the +situation, and make themselves listened to in the House, and out of it, +compared to the least brilliant of whom Master Charles of Nutfield was +but a comely, kindly rustic and ignoramus. + +The great proportion of these men were little in earnest in their +adulation; but Lady Bell was quite aware of the fact, and did not mind +it. Her own heart was not touched; she could meet her admirers on equal +terms, and like a child playing with fire, she feared no danger. She +liked, though it meant next to nothing, to be besieged for her hand in a +minuette or a cotillon, for the honour of serving her with tea in the +box of a coffee-room after the opera or the theatre, or of handing her +to Lady Sundon’s coach. She did not object to being spoken to, albeit +the terms were exaggerated, of the felicity of being in her presence, +and the despair of feeling her absence. She did not believe it, of +course, but it was a little intoxicating at the same time. + +Lady Sundon, who had not enjoyed any reflected triumphs on her +step-daughters’ account, was in the greatest glee at being chaperon to +so favoured a young lady. + +Mrs. Sundon, who had been brought up to the contemplation of these +triumphs, considered them quite legitimate, and viewed them as the +necessary finish to the rearing of a woman of quality, and the mode by +which her future was most frequently rounded off and settled. + +Lady Bell could have got into almost any set. Though she had no claims +to dabbling in literature, she would have been granted admittance to the +assemblies of the blues—in the drawing-rooms of Lady Charleville, Mrs. +Boscawen, and the great Mrs. Montague. But the truth was that Lady Bell +did not altogether appreciate classical poses and coquettings with the +muse, and did not care for the fine gentlemen who were so sensitive +about her reading their poems, and the great ladies who were so fond of +hearing themselves speak. + +Lady Bell had once taken a prominent part in an election, yet she was as +guileless as most young women of eighteen of comprehending or caring for +politics, unless, indeed, they bore on such sentimental, sensational +questions as the imprisonment of the Queen of Denmark—the marriage of +the Pretender—or Lord Mansfield’s decision that no slave could be sent +back from England to the chain and the lash of a taskmaster. Still, that +trifling deficiency might not have prevented her from entering the ranks +of the fair enthusiasts, who, in the vacancy or the usurped possession +of heart and mind, and in the craving for excitement which circumstances +fostered, were already short-sighted partisans and reckless agitators +for and against American independence, in sympathy with or in hostility +to French philosophers. Lady Bell would have proved an invaluable +acquisition even to the sisters Devonshire and Duncannon and to Mrs. +Crew, who would have opened their exclusive arms to her, for they forgot +to be rivals in their fervent worship at the one shrine of their +half-splendid, half-brutified idol, who could guide alike a steed and a +state. + +But Lady Bell shrank from the wild devotion to the buff and the blue, or +to any other colour of the rainbow. She contented herself with +marvelling at Anne, Duchess of Northumberland, haranguing the populace +from a window in Covent Garden, on the election of her brother-in-law, +Lord Percy, and with freely owning that this performance far surpassed +any of her, Lady Bell Trevor’s, election achievements. + +Lady Bell was too young, too pretty, and at once too rich and too poor, +to take to the card-tables, which were still more enthralling than the +hustings to their votaries, and which were the conspicuous +accompaniments of every entertainment. She might have had gambling in +her blood, through her relationship to Squire Godwin, but her life at +St. Bevis’s and Mrs. Sundon’s experience had destroyed the +constitutional predilection. + +Lady Bell was instinctively wise in not allying herself so closely to +any circle as to shut herself out from others, and in preferring to +shine as a charming visitor to each in turn. By this species of +discretion, as much as by her graces, Lady Bell won the approbation of +the master of assemblies to aristocratic London, whose notice was +honour, and his approbation the seal of taste. The exquisite, +rattling-boned, grimacing Mr. Walpole condescended to commend her, asked +to be presented to her, found out she was his cousin a hundred times +removed, and graciously invited her to the next theatrical +representations at Strawberry Hill. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + MAKING AN ACQUAINTANCE AT THE PANTHEON. + + +Lady Bell was with the Sundons at the Pantheon, which was in winter what +“dear delightful Ranelagh” was in its season, to every town +letter-writer of the generation. + +Here, too, was to be met a considerable amount of picturesqueness, +variety, and freedom in an age which alternated between excessive +ceremonial and bursts of licence. All the world could go to the Pantheon +as to Ranelagh, and, if in consequence there were, on the one hand, +greater openings to folly and vice, there were, on the other, better +provisions for rational and innocent pleasure, than in more private and +restricted places of entertainment. + +The women who groaned under the barbarous encumbrances and entanglements +of ruffled sacques, and immensely high and extravagant dressed “heads,” +at other fashionable gatherings, could come in an elegant undress to the +Pantheon as well as to Ranelagh, walk about, listen to concerts, and +form little social parties in the underground tea-room. There was a +charming demi-toilette for such places, of gowns with worked +neckerchiefs, and little hats over the hair, hanging down in curls upon +the shoulders. While the use of this privilege at a resort rendered so +brilliant, was not held to preclude distinctive touches of gay knots of +ribands, fans, and sparkling jewels. + +The gentlemen were not permitted the same relaxation in their +obligations. They must have the triangular hats mostly carried under the +arm when the hair was fully powdered, the silk stockings, and the lace +cravats. None save defiant bucks of high rank ventured to violate the +traditions of the Pantheon or Ranelagh by presenting themselves in +morning buckskins and short coats. + +Lady Bell and the Sundons had arrived too early, Lady Sundon having a +country mania for being in time at public places, to have collected any +stray members of what Lady Sundon called Lady Bell’s “pack.” + +The party with their single male attendant, a hobble-de-hoy nephew of +Sir Peter’s, had gone down-stairs to pass the interval in drinking tea, +till the main body of the company should arrive, and the tuning of the +musical instruments end. As other first-comers followed the Sundons’ +example, Lady Sundon kept on the out-look to hail acquaintances. + +Lady Bell was resting and anticipating, with lips apart and a flickering +smile, what hero of her train would turn up soonest. + +Miss Sundon was pensively helping Miss Lyddy Sundon to the last +macaroon, on which the hobble-de-hoy squire had cast a covetous eye, and +remarking with a sigh, “Sister, we need not have been so hurried as to +take away the little appetites we have, scarcely a soul is to be seen. I +understand it is the correct thing not to come till near ten o’clock. +But you and I must do as we are bidden.” + +“And a good thing for you too, girls,” proclaimed Lady Sundon, in her +slightly view-halloo voice. “What! wait till near ten and miss all the +company coming, the best part of the pleasure, and the half of the +concert—though I can’t say I care for their Italian squalling; give me +one of Lady Bell’s lessons on the spinet, or a good English chorus. But +my likings are neither here nor there. And no, say I, I shan’t be +cheated of half my treat, such as it is. There is somebody I ought to +know. Heyday! it is my own cousin, Harry Fane, come up from his ship at +Portsmouth.” + +Lady Sundon whisked off her seat, unimpeded by her size or her years, as +if she had been a girl of sixteen, and favoured by the thinness of the +company, succeeded in overtaking and tapping with her fan the shoulder +of a gentleman in blue and white uniform, whom she arrested in his +course, and brought back with her, as a reward of virtue and early +habits. + +“See what I’ve got by coming betimes, girls; sure, we might never have +set eyes on each other if the rooms had been full,” Lady Sundon cried +exultingly, and then she rattled on in one long sentence, with breaks +for breath. “You know my step-daughters, Harry, and this is Lady Bell +Trevor, a friend of Mrs. Sundon, of Chevely (at least, she used to be of +Chevely, poor soul! before Greg Sundon went all to the dogs), who does +us the honour of being with us this winter. All agog Lady Bell keeps us, +I can tell you, so that neither she, nor we, can get peace for you men.” + +“Pray don’t give me so bad a character, madam,” objected Lady Bell +demurely. + +“It has been the same tune,” maintained Lady Sundon, “since she was Lady +Bell Etheredge, Earl Etheredge’s daughter (I hope you are up in your +peerage, Harry); she had to marry old Squire Trevor, for peace, when she +was a chit of fifteen, but he is dead, and she is as bad as ever.” + +“Do you mean to fright your cousin, till he refuse to be presented to +me, Lady Sundon?” Lady Bell cut short the tale of her conquests. + +“He ain’t such a lubberly coward as to deprive himself of what blue +jackets, as well as red coats, are fighting for; if he were, he should +get no harbour from me. Lady Bell Trevor, Captain Fane of the +_Thunderbomb_. He may pull a long face at our frivolity, and pretend to +find fault with us for being children playing with toys, but he is not +such a bad fellow at bottom—as some of these misanthropes—misogynists, +what-d’ye call-‘ems.” + +“I am obliged to you for the character of a sage, cousin,” replied the +gentleman with perfect gravity, “Lady Bell Trevor, will you permit me, +so soon after being introduced, to take the liberty of pitying you, if +my cousin is serious in her account.” + +“A humorist,” Lady Bell commented to herself under her breath, “an +animal that I detest, though I understand my dear Mrs. Sundon has rather +a fancy for the species—there is no accounting for tastes—neither is the +specimen handsome to excuse him for any form of conceit. I dare say he +is clever in some dry disagreeable way.” + +Captain Fane of the _Thunderbomb_, thus apostrophized and reviewed by +bright keen eyes, was a young man of twenty-eight years. Although he was +not strictly handsome, he had a good figure, which his naval uniform set +off, and his face—with a thick cogitative nose, a wrinkle between the +eyebrows, and a tendency to squareness in the jaws—was lit up by a pair +of fine eyes, and a pleasantness in his smile when he did smile, which +was rather too seldom. + +Captain Fane accepted Lady Sundon’s invitation to join her party; he was +on very good terms with his cousin, though she announced to Lady Bell, +“he takes me off at no allowance,” and in accordance with this +communication Lady Sundon was continually nodding her head, and snapping +her fan in mock agreement with, or smart protest at, Captain Fane’s +strictures. + +The gentleman was indemnifying himself for his concession to kindred +feminine influence by the private reflection, “Here is a fine lady of +fashion whom my ‘merry wife’ of a cousin has bagged by some chance. I’d +better improve the opportunity of studying the latest shore and town +follies, grafted on a woman’s wilfulness and caprice. Heartless young +dowager (why, she looks little more than a child!) to have married an +‘old Squire Trevor’ and buried him to boot, and to be looking out for +his successor, I warrant, with what she’s been cunning enough to secure +of the defunct Squire’s goods. It is a bad, as well as a mad world, my +masters; but of all things I can’t abide an artful young woman, and this +one looks so artless (which makes the art much worse) in the middle of +her airs and graces.” + +“Harry don’t think we women have a pinch of sense,” Lady Sundon was +saying, “besides the five senses we can’t help having. As for him, I +tell him that except that he’s as sober as a judge (and he a sailor!), +and is fond of books and instruments, having his cabin fitted up with +them like a pedagogue’s den, he’s a regular chip of some of the horrid +old woman-hating admirals. You are a woman of spirit, Lady Bell. I do +wish that you would serve it out to him, or take him in hand and do +something to improve him.” + +“Pardon me, Lady Sundon, I have neither time nor talent in that way,” +Lady Bell excused herself with one of her airs, not approving of this +proposal on so short an acquaintance, to the cynical, saucy fellow’s +face. + +“And I should not be worth the trouble, Lady Bell,” the gentleman +hastened to explain; “I am afraid that I am incorrigible to any fair, +fine lady’s pains.” + +Though neither of them exactly meant it, they were both so disdainful, +that it was a good deal like flinging down gauntlets on the first brush +of their introduction—a mutual challenge, which was so far owing to Lady +Sundon’s blundering cordiality. + +“Oh! not so bad as that, Harry,” exclaimed the good lady, who really +liked her cousin, as she liked pickles or the preserved ginger, with +regard to which he had once been so mindful as to bring her a jar from +the West Indies. “I am quite convinced, Lady Bell, that he needs only to +be smiled and frowned upon by one of our sex, and to hang on our smiles +and tremble at our frowns, to be properly humbled, and made a mighty +agreeable fellow of.” + +“Indeed, ma’am,” answered Lady Bell, in a tone which sounded very much +as if she had said, “He may, or he may not; I am sure I don’t care.” + +“You are wrong, cousin,” replied Captain Fane quickly, “I don’t pretend +to be worse or better than my neighbours, certainly; but I do profess +that where neither my judgment nor my conscience is addressed, I am not +particularly susceptible to the wiles either of smiles or frowns, or for +that matter of tears.” + +“Oh, you wretch!” cried out even the Misses Sundon. + +“Why, what would you have?” remonstrated Captain Fane; “you ladies must +submit to the fact that there are some ill-conditioned rebels against +the rule of blandishments, while sea-horses of all horses are the worst +to tame. However, a truce to me and my nature, a monstrously +uninteresting subject to introduce, Lady Sundon; what have you been +doing with yourself lately?” + +“Oh, we have been doing what we could when Sir Peter would spare us, so +as to make the town and society the better even for my blowsy phiz; but +I’ve had my day, Harry, I’ve had my day. We’ve seen Mr. Garrick take +leave of the stage in the _Wonder_, and the new Italian +singer—what’s-his-name—make his first appearance in _Artaxerxes_. We’ve +heard Dr. Dodd preach in aid of the society for the recovery of the +drowned, and been present at one of Madam Montague’s dinners to the +chimney-sweeps. We’ve walked in the Mall and Kensington Gardens whenever +the sun would keep us in countenance, which was not too often, when the +sulky rogue let the Thames be froze at Mortlake during the late fall of +snow. We’ve been both to the Queen’s House and the Mansion House, and to +ever so many dinners and routs. We’ve even had our share of the new +sickness, the influenza, which is all the vogue, though we could have +dispensed with that token of fashion. I could not tell you all that +we’ve been and done, Cousin Harry.” + +“I think you’ve told me pretty well, Cousin Sundon,” quoth Harry. “I +almost hesitate to propose that you should take a stroll, you must all +be so knocked up; no wonder that Miss Sundon and Miss Lyddy look as if a +breath of air would blow them away.” + +“A fiddlestick for their being blown away! They’re quite hearty if they +would only think it. Lady Bell makes no complaint, and she is always as +fresh as paint when a new pleasure is spoke of. She is something like a +girl; I have no patience with girls being vapoured, sir, it is a +reproach on you men, if you understood it. Girls were different when I +was young, and I ain’t vapoured now that I am old. If you were to cut +and shuffle in a hornpipe, like a Jack tar on the boards, I could caper +the steps of ‘Joan Saunderson’ or ‘Nancy Dawson’ back again. Since you +won’t, let us go the round, and see and be seen by all means; what is +life without a bit of pleasure?” + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + OPINIONS DIFFER. + + +As the party went up-stairs, and strolled about amongst other animated +groups, admiring what were reckoned the Gothic portions of the Pantheon, +listening to the rising strains of the orchestra, which still admitted +the ring of laughing voices—buxom Lady Sundon grew radiant. “Now, ain’t +this nice, Harry?” she demanded triumphantly; “ain’t it something to +come on shore for—worth years of the sloppy, draggle-tailed country?” + +“As to nice, the word is too vague. I’d as lief not pledge myself to +what you mean by niceness,” he told her; “and I own to being rather +fonder of green fields than filthy streets, after a long tack of blue +waves.” + +“But this ain’t filthy streets, Harry. Now, I shall think you right down +cross and contrary, if you refuse to admit that the Pantheon, at least, +takes your fancy.” + +“Then, not to mortify you, madam, the Pantheon itself is not half so +silly or so bad as many places of public and private entertainment that +I’ve been to in my life. If I were to stay on shore, and in London, I +should not mind coming sometimes to the Pantheon.” + +“I dare say you shouldn’t—your humble servant, Harry, for the +condescension!” + +“Especially if I were to come across such a man as Admiral Byron,” +continued Captain Fane, bowing low to a bluff, elderly gentleman in +passing. “He played the man when he was no more than a middy, young +sir”—Captain Fane pointed the application by looking over his shoulder +and addressing Sir Peter’s nephew, walking between the Misses Sundon, +and instantly beginning to swell with wrath because his tender years +were hinted at—“He was a castaway on a South Sea Island, and he managed +to survive five years of hardship unparalleled in our day, among +savages. There is somebody to look at, worth a hundred of your beaux and +belles.” + +“And han’t I stared the man out,” declared Lady Sundon, “till he thinks +there’s a hole in his epaulette, or a paper pinned on his back?” + +“It isn’t the luck of every one to be a castaway on a South Sea Island, +and to learn a lesson from savages,” said Lady Bell. “Beaux and belles +can’t help their want of luck. You should be fair, Captain Fane.” + +“I’ll try, Lady Bell,” he promised, “if you’ll point out to me one man +or woman of your fine fashionables—remember, I don’t say civilians, I +hope I’m not such a swaggering fire-eater as to confine merit to one or +both of the services—who, in his or her different circumstances, has +shown half the ingenuity and energy, not to say resignation, which my +friend the Admiral was privileged, as you put it not incorrectly, to +display.” + +“Oh, come, sir!” cried Lady Bell with spirit, dropping her assumption of +meekness, “I shall not have far to seek to confute your argument, and I +shall take a woman in order to cover you with confusion. True, I don’t +say she has kindled a fire with flints, or dug up roots with her +fingers, or knocked down birds with a stick; but I conclude that you—an +educated gentleman—consider ingenuity and energy may be well bestowed in +other respects than in relieving mere gross, bodily wants.” + +“I grant you that, Lady Bell.” + +“Do you see the lady in the silver gauze?—not there, and that is not +silver gauze, that is white brocade, while the wearer is only charming +Lady Hesketh. No, here, the slight young lady in the silver gauze, with +the fine hair in a wave above her forehead, and the high aquiline +nose—do you know what she is famous for?” + +“No; I must admit my ignorance.” + +“Not for her beauty, although you may see she is beautiful; not for +being gallant General Conway’s daughter; not even for being wife of my +Lord Milton’s son, who has the finest wardrobe in London—finer even than +thirty thousand a year will stand, folks swear; for men can be as vain +as women sometimes, and a great deal more reckless in their vanity. But +Mrs. Damer puts on a mob cap and canvas apron, and with those little +white hands wields mallet and chisel, as well as moulds in wax and clay. +She hath done groups of animals as true as life, and busts of men and +women—their speaking images. She is a great sculptor, sir, such as Mr. +Bacon or Mr. Nollekens. What do you say to that?” Lady Bell wound up her +peroration by making a profound curtsey. + +“It is all gospel, Harry,” Lady Sundon confirmed the account. “They tell +me that pretty stylish woman is so far left to herself that she likes +nothing better than muddling among wet blocks and splinters of stone, +and hewing away like any stonemason.” + +“I stand corrected,” admitted Harry Fane honestly, addressing himself to +Lady Bell. “I honour the lady both for her capacity and determination.” + +“And I can assure you, sir, she is not the only woman who deserves your +honour for intellect and perseverance,” insisted Lady Bell, woman-like, +not content with the inch conceded, but proceeding to ask a yard. “Of +course it is not given to many women to be endowed like Mrs. Damer, but +if you knew my dear Mrs. Sundon, down at Summerhill, how wise she is, +how attentive to all her duties, how regular and unwearied in her +studies—well!” she broke off enthusiastically, “she shames me into +solidity and steadiness. I never have a fit of the gapes, and I am in no +way flighty when I am with her.” + +“That is a great testimony,” said Captain Fane with grave abstraction, +as if he were meditating on the force of the evidence. + +“You provoking man!” Lady Sundon reproached him, rapping him across the +fingers with her fan, while Lady Bell bit her lips with pique, and +turned away indignant at being laughed at, a process to which she was +not over much accustomed. + +Lady Bell was too proud to pout, but she had made up her mind that she +would submit to no more flouting from this impertinent, conceited +sailor, when all at once he begged her pardon, said penitently and +agreeably that Mrs. Sundon was at least fortunate in having such an +advocate that he could take the unknown lady’s superiority on trust. + +Lady Bell felt rewarded for her gallantry in fighting the humoursome +sailor, when she had constrained him to soften his looks and tones, and +to except not merely Mrs. Sundon but herself in his budget of +criticism—if Lady Sundon had let the man alone in leaving him to his +better mind, and had not, by interfering, spoilt all! + +“Mercy on us!” Lady Sundon ejaculated, “wonders will never cease; my +polar bear has paid a compliment!” + +“Not paid a compliment—told a truth,” Captain Fane had condescended to +say further, quite graciously. + +“Another, another, Harry! you’re a reformed man on the spot—see what a +pretty woman can do—a bear that has changed its skin!” Lady Sundon had +leapt too fast to a conclusion. + +“I am afraid I must damp your expectation, and shock you once more,” +alleged Captain Fane, with a perverse twinkle in his eyes, “for I was +about to add that if your Mrs. Sundon is so wondrous wise a woman, why +did she go ‘in the galley,’ as I have understood she did? I mean, why +did she throw herself away on so dissipated a man and so inveterate a +gambler as Gregory Sundon, of Chevely, whose disgrace had been so +manifest and black, that he has been suffered to drop clean out of this +corrupt enough gay world, as well as out of his wife’s offended sight. +If she was to be particular, she should have begun sooner.” + +“Sir!” replied Lady Bell, with her hot young generosity firing up in +every word, “I do not pretend to justify my friend in every act of her +life; and for the magnanimous faith with which she trusted her precious +self and her fortune to the unhappy husband who failed her, I say +nothing, save that it ill becomes even so faultless and prudent a man, +as I do not doubt Captain Fane is, to blame her.” + +“Well said—as good as a play, Lady Bell. Lady Bell, I’m proud of you,” +protested Lady Sundon. “Hit him hard when you’re at it! Yes, indeed, +you’re no better than a mean scamp, though you are my own cousin, Harry; +and I did not think it of you, for all your droll crustiness and carping +words, till Lady Bell hath opened my eyes—to twit a fine woman with her +indiscreet tenderness to one of your own ungrateful sex—as well kiss and +tell. What have you to say for yourself?” + +“Nothing!” answered Harry, with a little shrug of his broad shoulders, +“and Lady Bell need not hit harder, seeing she has hit hard enough to +floor me already. Madam, I was wrong to urge such an inconsistency in +your friend. It was ill done on my part, as you said. I cannot do less +than make amends to her and to you by saying that I am sorry for my +unhandsome words.” + +Again Lady Bell was propitiated by a new and rare flattery in finding +that she could sway and subdue not a willing slave, not an indolent, +careless adorer, but a restive and opinionative man. For here was one +who might have had the misfortune to be a little singular to begin with, +and who, after having been confined to ship-board from childhood, turned +up in the smooth, accommodating world, all angles, ready-formed +prepossessions and prejudices. + +Under the subtle incense, Lady Bell looked at her antagonist more +deliberately over her fan, and out of a pair of eyes analytically +inclined. + +She settled that though he was contradictory and a little abrupt and +harsh in his contradictions, otherwise he was not in the least +ill-mannered or boorish, but had altogether the air of a gentleman and a +man of education, and was thus of the new school of naval officers. He +looked also a man of sense, even of some benevolence, when he gave way +to her, and was so quick and candid in the kind of courage which +confessed even to so small a shortcoming as a mistaken judgment in +conversation. + +As Lady Bell arrived at this improved verdict, the music in chief began, +and the party had to take their seats and listen. + +When the concert was ended, Lady Bell was accosted and monopolized by +one after another of her numerous friends, danglers, and satellites, +until Lady Sundon’s party quitted the Pantheon. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + + BOULTON’S COINS AND WEDGWOOD’S DISHES. + + +Next morning Captain Fane called for his cousins in Cleveland Court, to +inquire after Sir Peter and propose a party which should be a compromise +between his ideas and theirs. + +“You seem to have been at so many sights,” Captain Fane said, “that +there are only one or two left for you to see, but as you have gone +hitherto with the multitude, I should not wonder though you have, +without any blame to your judgments, of course, missed some choice +exhibitions.” He addressed Lady Sundon at her fringe-loom and the young +ladies at their tambour-frames. + +“Now what may they be, Harry? We shall be vastly obliged to you for +enlightening us.” Her ladyship was open to a suggestion. + +“There are the exhibitions of Mr. Boulton’s new coins, medals, and +machinery; and there is the show of the new Staffordshire ware which men +of science and taste are flocking to.” + +“Dear heart alive, are we men of science?” remonstrated Lady Sundon; +“we’ve been to Cox’s museum, where an artificial bird sings, and to the +place kept by the Swiss in King Street, Covent Garden, where the effigy +of a boy writes, and the effigy of a girl draws, and another effigy of a +young lady—the marrow of Lyddy there—plays the piano; and that is enough +science for me, if indeed, it ain’t the black art, which it is +uncommonly like. I thought you were going to tell of a fresh batch of +wild Indians, with their paint and war-dances; or of the last caught +syren, with her gills serving as curls, and a fin rising on the top of +her head for that matter instead of our present fashionable ‘heads’—odd! +ain’t it, that the syrens should have the fashions at the bottom of the +sea?—or of a new fortune-teller.” + +“What could put all these foolish things into your head, my lady?” +complained Captain Fane. + +“‘These are the least the man can have in his eye,’ I said to myself,” +she told him for her explanation. “I am extraordinary disappointed. No, +sir; you are a clever dog in your way, and not a bad dog at bottom, +since your bark is worse than your bite, though you have a little of the +bulldog in you too when your temper is fairly roused, but you have no +notion how to please and divert ladies, that’s clear.” + +“Very likely I have not,” answered Captain Fane a little glumly, “but +sure I did you no disparagement when I evened you to what delights men +of parts.” + +“No, indeed, Captain Fane,” spoke up Lady Bell, her natural and +high-bred sweetness in a ferment at the reception which had been +accorded even by good-natured Lady Sundon to the young sailor’s +overture, which was a little too affable in its tone, perhaps, but was +obliging and kindly meant. + +Farther Lady Bell hated to think that Captain Fane would suppose women +in general, and she in particular, had not minds above the vulgar +marvels which Lady Sundon had quoted. + +“If you will forgive me for saying so, Lady Sundon,” Lady Bell gave her +opinion, “you are in the wrong box. All the first people in town, ladies +as well as gentlemen, are running to look at the medallions and vases. +They were inspected by their majesties in person t’other day, and the +Queen gave an order for ornaments to the chimney-pieces of her private +rooms. I know my Mrs. Sundon would not forgive me if I returned to the +country without having set eyes on these works. I don’t pretend to be +very wise myself, but I hope I have no objection to improving my mind, +and that I have sufficient patriotism to be proud of the growing +manufactures of my country.” + +“Upon my word, Lady Bell, you put an old woman to shame,” exclaimed Lady +Sundon, always ready to admire whatever Lady Bell said or did, and yet +in earnest in her admiration. “Hear her! a young modish beauty evening +herself to self-improvement and patriotism like any wizened bookworm. +Have your way, child; I am sure it is a most creditable way, and I am +glad Captain Fane has been so mindful as to put it in your power. But as +I am a score and more of years too old for improving my mind or +patronising my country, and my inclination ain’t in that line, I shall +devote the morning to dancing attendance on my Sir Peter. It will help +to keep the poor soul sweet, and gain me liberty for some more enticing +occasion.” + +“I think we shall be able to get on without you, cousin.” + +“Get away with you, fellow. You don’t want a chaperon, Lady Bell, you +yourself are the most charming chaperon in Lon’on; while poor Nancy and +Lyddy there, that are nigh ten years older than you, never having had +the luck to be married, can’t stir abroad without me jogging at their +elbows; though, gracious me! my office is very much a sinecure so far as +the men are concerned.” + +“Good heavens! Lady Sundon, how can you tell such stories about sister’s +age and mine?” screamed Miss Lyddy. “As for men, if we were willing to +grin and ogle—” she bit her tongue in time to prevent herself adding, +“and to marry men older than our father—” + +“I don’t know that the grinning would do it, Lyddy,” observed the +incorrigible Lady Sundon, shaking her head; “you haven’t teeth for +grins, neither you nor Nancy, they’re too black. But what do you say, +girls, about this morning’s doings? Is it to be ‘hey!’ for Lady Bell and +cousin Harry, with their pots and mugs, or ‘hey!’ for a dosing and +darning match at home.” + +“Gracious, madam,” interposed Miss Sundon peevishly, “how can you phrase +it that we should cry ‘hey!’ for anything; though I am certain we are as +fond of being instructed and entertained as Lady Bell or anybody.” + +“I wish you would look sprightlier about it then, Nancy,” recommended +Lady Sundon, “for who would come to the house, I should like to know, if +they were treated to nothing but dismals—from Sir Peter’s pains to your +and Lyddy’s quarrels with the weather for taking your hair out of the +curl—and not a shade of relief from a joke or laugh to shake one’s sides +and warm one’s blood like a sip of cherry brandy?” + +When the party set out, Lady Bell took care to qualify her support of +the expedition by turning over Captain Fane to walk with one of his +cousins, while she walked with the other. “I am not going to make the +man too proud,” reflected Lady Bell, with a quiet consciousness that she +had it in her power to make a man hold up his head among his fellows; +“he is saucy enough without that.” + +The winter weather was passably dry, so that the fact of Oxford Street’s +not being paved did not materially interfere with the ladies’ comfort. +They saw a man in the act of being whipped round Covent Garden, but he +was not in their way. His worship the Mayor’s coach passed them, but +they were not aware of the circumstance that he had been robbed that +very morning, in sight of his retinue, at Turnham Green, by a single +highwayman, who swore that he would shoot whoever resisted. Though the +knowledge had travelled fast, it would not have inflicted qualms even on +the Misses Sundon, for they were not going out of town. + +The walking-party were not so fortunate as to encounter the wild +Indians, who loomed so largely in Lady Sundon’s imagination as one of +the sights of London this year; but they got a glimpse of Omiah, the +native of Otaheite brought home by Captain Cook. The drawback was that +the interesting savage was not at the moment in South Sea costume, +which, perhaps, was not exactly suited to a January day in London—on the +contrary, he formed a dingy representative of an Englishman in a frock +and pantaloons. + +In the rooms where were the last clean-cut coinage, the casts of figures +in metal, the ingenious clocks, and the skeleton models of larger +machines, which were to turn the world upside down, Lady Bell did her +best to be interested and edified. But after all she found her greatest +fascination in Captain Fane’s intelligent satisfaction, which stimulated +and warmed the whole man, so that his incredulity gave way to credulity, +and in place of sardonic fault-finding, he grew, as it sounded, quite +extravagant in his praise, and became boyish in his animation. + +“These are the marvels of creative mind, Lady Bell. They are signs of +battles won over the opposing elements. I’d liefer fight with air and +water for my fellow-creatures than fight my fellow-creatures themselves. +I’d sooner have been Mr. Boulton, of Birmingham, or the grey stooping +Scotchman his partner, Mr. Watt, who has come up to town about a patent, +and is standing yonder explaining his pistons and valves to a country +mechanic, than I would have been Admiral Rodney or poor Lord Clive.” + +“Nay, but Captain Fane, without our Admirals and Generals where would be +the victories of peace?” objected Lady Bell, putting up her little chin +shrewdly. + +“True, for our comfort,” admitted Captain Fane; “and if wishes were +horses, beggars would ride. It is one thing to command even his +Majesty’s flag-ship, and nail the colours to the mast if need be, and +another to control the elements. There were many captains in Syracuse, +but only one Archimedes. That spare stooping man is the Archimedes of +the modern world.” + +“And he hath the air of a tradesman,” said one of the Miss Sundons +softly, as if resigning herself perforce to the lamentable want of style +of the modern Archimedes. + +“Or of an old schoolmaster,” chimed in Lady Bell mischievously, with a +half inadvertent glance of approving contrast at Captain Fane’s +stalwart, well-carried figure. + +It was a “very pretty” manly figure, though it was not that of an +effeminate dandy such as Admiral Rodney had shown himself, before his +debts drove him to France, and although it had not escaped the +professional rolling gait of the sailor. + +Doubtless even so strict and wise a judge as Harry Fane was prepared to +be, felt propitiated, whether he knew it or not, by the invidious +womanish glance which contrasted the person of the great mechanic with +that of the obscure naval officer, and awarded the advantage to the +latter. + +“What would you have?” he said, smiling. “Sure he has the best to his +share, and there is an old schoolmaster in Bolt Court, at whom we should +not dare to peep, but whom ladies of quality, I am glad to say, have +paid with all the coin at their command, for his generosity towards +them.” + +“Ah! you mean the great and good Dr. Johnson,” exclaimed Lady Bell +eagerly. “My Mrs. Sundon and I, we should have been proud to wait on +him, on our bended knees, if we had got the opportunity. But I fear his +health is failing too much for him to appear often in society. I did +hope to have had a glimpse of him, though I should have half died with +fear lest he had set me down, as he is a little prone to do poor fine +ladies who do not take his fancy. But you would not compare a man of +such erudition in letters to a mere mechanic, however ingenious in his +own line?” + +“I should like to hear what the great honest man of letters would have +to say to the imputation of superiority; I should like to hear what +posterity will have to say,” exclaimed Captain Fane with lively +impatience. “But I confess I have a natural weakness for the science +which provides me with a compass, and the mechanics which build me a +ship, so that possibly I am not a fair authority on the comparative +merits of science and literature.” + +“Sir, the very fact of your owning to a natural weakness vouches for +your impartiality as a witness,” Lady Bell declared with her quaint +graciousness. + +Through what was audacious in the commendation of so young a lady, there +vibrated an exquisite under-tone of simplicity and nobleness. It +contributed to soften still further the crude stiffness, essential to +the naval moralist, not yet thirty, in his bearing towards Lady Bell, +against whose heartlessness and artfulness he had forearmed himself, +when he first contemplated with unequivocal condemnation the +inconsistency of her position as the youngest and loveliest of dowagers. + +When Captain Fane proceeded to escort his ladies to the exhibition of +Wedgwood ware, he found that there was no further call for him to point +out excellencies, extol achievements, and elicit the faint echo of his +own enthusiasm. Lady Bell especially was in unaffected delight. Her +whole artistic nature was stirred; she was excited to the highest +enjoyment. + +Lady Bell flew from fountain to statue, from plateau to vase. She hung +over the nymphs, with their garlands, over the groups of flowers—herself +the most graceful nymph and blooming flower that met the spectator’s +eye. + +She was on her own ground. The ware of Wedgwood and the designs of +Flaxman were, indeed, infinitely beyond her poor little performances in +“composition” for seals and patterns for ruffles; but the spirit of the +two was not so wide apart as to prevent Lady Bell’s entering heart and +soul into the finished work before her, and rejoicing in its +culmination. + +“If Mr. Watt is a stooping, spectacled man, whose grey hair needs no +powder, as powder will not conceal its weather-worn whiteness, what do +you say to all these elegant forms and materials owing their origin to a +small-pox-seamed working man, wanting a leg?” Captain Fane tried her. + +She only laughed. “I should say he was Vulcan himself, only Vulcan was a +smith, not a potter. But I was thinking of the shield of Achilles, of +which I have read in Mr. Pope’s ‘Homer.’ I should not mind what he was +who could shed beauty around him. Look at these sky-blues, sea-greens, +shell lilacs, and pearl-whites. Notice that cup on the stalk, Captain +Fane; what a globe, what delicately-raised birds! I vow I can count +their feathers in flight along the rim. But I am forgetting to thank +you, sir,” exclaimed Lady Bell, stopping on a sudden thought, and +turning to her conductor with frank gratitude. “You have given me a very +happy morning. And not only that, but on many another morning when I am +dabbling feebly enough with my box of colours and my embroidery +chenilles, I shall think of this morning, and recall to my profit, sure, +as well as to my pleasure, Mr. Boulton’s coins and medals, and Mr. +Wedgwood and Mr. Bentley’s least dish.” + +“Will you make me happy in return, Lady Bell, by conferring on me an +additional favour?” said Harry Fane with an impulsive stammer that was +directly opposed to his usual calmness, and yet was by no means +unbecoming in the grave young man. “Will you do me the honour to accept +this cup from me, and keep it as a trophy of Wedgwood and a memento of +what you have been so good as to call a happy morning?” and the fellow +who was known for his restiveness and captiousness, spoke the words +humbly, as if he were addressing them to a queen. + +“With the greatest pleasure, sir,” answered Lady Bell, without a shade +of reluctance, and with a sigh of pure satisfaction and exultation in +the promised possession. “I have been longing to make a purchase of a +small sample of the wonders before me, to take it home and preserve it +as one of my cherished treasures. But I feared that my shallow purse, +already well emptied with town requisitions and extravagances, could not +compass what I desired. I am trespassing on your friendliness; but +besides being yourself a lover of art, you are a kinsman of my kind +hostess, and I declare, through Sir Peter, you are related to my Mrs. +Sundon.” + +Lady Bell slightly impaired the winning ingenuousness of her acceptance +by thus arguing it out, in order to justify it in her own eyes. But she +atoned for the falling off by the evident gratification with which she +hailed a thread of connection between Captain Fane and Mrs. Sundon. + +So agreeably was Lady Bell persuaded of the slender link, that she +helped the open-handed sailor, Miss Sundon and Miss Lyddy, to choose a +piece of Wedgwood ware for Mrs. Sundon, in addition to the pieces for +Lady Sundon and the girls, and readily undertook to take care of the +former piece, convey and present it to Mrs. Sundon, along with the +almanack for her friend, and the set of flappers for Caro, which Lady +Bell had in store. + +Lady Bell made no comment, though she could hardly have overlooked a +circumstance which she might attribute, as the Sundons attributed it, to +her higher rank. There was the same characteristic difference between +Lady Bell’s cup and the plates and saucers of the others that there had +been between Benjamin’s mess and the messes of his brethren, as sent +them from the hands of Joseph, when Jacob’s sons went in and ate with +the ruler of Egypt. Lady Bell’s piece of Wedgwood ware was five times +more valuable than the other pieces. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + + A PARTY ON THE WATER. + + +Captain Fane, young wiseacre as he was, reckoned foolishly with little +knowledge of the world, and less knowledge of woman’s nature, that the +next time he met Lady Bell he should take up the acquaintance at the +very point at which he had left it off, on the lucky hit of his +introducing the ladies to the galleries of science and art. + +Far from it, every incident, every influence was different. _Dramatis +personæ_ had entered on the scene who were as new as they were +distasteful to Harry Fane; but they were not new to Lady Bell, and they +and their fellows were possessed of long established claims on her +regard. + +True, some weeks had passed, during which Captain Fane had been before +his chiefs of the Admiralty, and kept hard at work on his professional +business; but a few weeks were nothing, in Harry Fane’s estimation, to +warrant this transformation. + +When Captain Fane employed his next disengaged morning, in repairing to +his cousin’s house in Cleveland Court, he found a gay company marshalled +there, about to take advantage of an unusually fine February day to have +a party on the water. + +“Well come, Harry!” cried hearty Lady Sundon; “we only lacked a naval +man to sit in the end of our barge.” + +“We shall be glad to avail ourselves of your experience, sir,” Lady +Bell, whose party it was specially, was polite enough to say; but it was +said carelessly, and she did not wait for an answer, as both her ears +were monopolized. + +The one ear was filled with the whispers of an affected, lisping woman, +into whose affectation and lisp there could yet be infused such a +judiciously-mixed spice of wit and scandal as very often rendered her +whispers irresistible to their hearers. + +Lady Bell’s remaining ear was kept fixed by the honeyed sharpness of +tongue of a long, lazy, handsome man, in the lingering exquisiteness of +costume of a purple-velvet coat and breeches and white silk stockings, +double vest—one white, the other jonquil colour—two watch guards, a +solitaire, diamond buckles, and a little hat. + +Beside this full-fledged, fine-hued gentleman, Captain Fane, in his +plain blue and white uniform, looked a very sober, and, in his present +humour, a somewhat gruff bird; but Harry took up his gold-laced hat on +the amount of encouragement he received, and went with the company. + +He was the more induced to join the party because he was all at once +seized with a burning wish and necessity to ascertain the precise terms +on which Lady Bell Trevor stood with two of her companions. + +Partial and superficial as Captain Fane’s acquaintance with the +fashionable world was, the pair were too marked for him not to have a +chance of being familiar with their antecedents. + +Sir George Waring and Mrs. Lascelles were connected by more than an +accidental association, though they had escaped the ignominy of a +miserable bond of union. The owners of the names were continually to be +seen together at the same gay parties, some of which were of a debatable +character. + +It was well understood that the couple were fast allies, though the +nature of the alliance remained a mystery. Was it friendship among the +heartless, as there is honour among thieves? Lady Bell honestly believed +so. + +Was it true, as some said, that Sir George had bought over Mrs. +Lascelles by a large debt won from her at piquet, to back him in all his +endless idle schemes and intrigues, and to play into his hand in the +fickle, evil aims of the life at once of a Sir Fribble and a Lovelace? + +Did the solution lie in an unauthorised, low-toned love between the +wickedly good-natured pair, who, with the wisdom of the serpent, held +the passion in check, and preserved their cool, careless mask, trusting +faintly that death might one day interpose in their behalf, and remove +Mrs. Lascelles’s husband, or waiting deliberately till the love rooted +in ashes and fed on malignant vapours, should be surely and for ever +extinguished? + +As for Mrs. Lascelles’s husband, he played no prominent part in the +drama, and put in no claim for sympathy. He was as basely indifferent as +the others; he simply tolerated his wife, and accorded her his +protection, so long as she did not outrage it. + +In reality there was no public scandal concerning these people; but +Harry Fane could not endure to see Lady Bell Trevor with them, on +intimate terms, and she was still seated between the two in the barge. + +Mrs. Lascelles wriggled as a serpent wriggles its glossy spots, and shot +forth unholy green fire, dragon-like, on the right of Lady Bell. + +On the left lounged Sir George, as a splendid sleek tiger steps +stealthily before it springs, and even when it is too gorged and not +greedy enough to spring, bites in wanton playfulness. + +Lady Bell was so ignorant of the true nature of such persons, that she +stopped short with admiring their orange and sable glories; she was +tickled and taken with, rather than repelled, by the green fire of Mrs. +Lascelles’s brilliant scandal, and the playful biting of Sir George’s +half-caressing, highly cultivated cynicism,—something altogether +different from Harry Fane’s wholesome, blustering criticism. + +In addition to Lady Bell’s ignorance, her perceptions were slightly +warped, so that she was disposed to be but too lenient to the hole +whence she herself had been dug, and the pit from which she had been +drawn. + +The barge swept along, among other and less ornamental barges laden with +hay, coals, sheep, and pigs, past wharfs and piers, under bridges, below +balconies and projecting stories of buildings, by gables of houses—until +it left stone and lime behind, and reached green banks and lawns, though +the trees still stretched brown, gnarled, or drooping boughs, sharp and +unclothed, against the blue of the sky. There was just the dimly sweet, +green budding of a fine February to tell that spring was at hand. + +Lady Bell smiled brightly and chatted freely with her chosen companions. + +Captain Fane had no resource but to fume secretly, and seek, as he +steered, to be contented with the companionship of the Sundons. There +was one safeguard in Lady Sundon’s irrepressible good fellowship, which +was restrained by no extreme delicacy or humility, that it combated +successfully her instinctive homage to rank and fashion, and prevented +her from being left entirely out of any group in her vicinity. + +Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles’s blandness,—the great quality on which +they prided themselves, in the absence of all higher qualities,—might +not have remained unalloyed with insolence. The gentleman and lady might +have rebuffed what they regarded as offensive intrusion in Lady Sundon’s +freedom of speech, seeing that the pair attached themselves to the +Sundons solely on Lady Bell’s account. But dear, delightful, naïve +little Lady Bell had her weaknesses, which her friends were quick enough +to perceive and respect in time. One of these weaknesses was, that she +would not submit to see snubbing administered in her presence to the +hospitable country baronet’s wife and her absurdly gawky step-daughters, +with whom she had the misfortune to be domiciled in town. + +Neither would the froward goddess consent at present to be rescued, to +quit these Sundons and put herself under the guardianship of Mrs. +Lascelles, who, if she and Sir George had got their will, would have had +Lady Bell, without delay, cut the whole connection, even so far as her +dear Mrs. Sundon. + +Mrs. Sundon was a true woman of quality, and of the world, indeed, but +she had abandoned her sphere, and might live to turn queen’s evidence +against her old world, any day. She was blue, stuck up, and tiresomely +virtuous for a young woman. Lady Bell spoilt herself by quoting and +aping this model. + +But Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles must set to work cautiously in doing +their benevolent “possible” to cure Lady Bell of this and other defects. +Rome was not built in one day, and neither in one day would a wilful +girl’s rampant staunchness and warm-heartedness be converted into a +conveniently faithless and lukewarm state of the affections. + +In the meantime, Lady Sundon had insisted on drawing everybody’s +attention to Chelsea, because she had once assisted at a “whim” there, +when she had gone over Chelsea Hospital. + +The building had, at this time, its wounded soldiers who had been +disabled at Bunker’s Hill, and some of whom Captain Fane had brought +home in his frigate. + +There was a little talk of the engagement, in which the general company +joined. It was notable that Sir George, who was a carpet knight, treated +the resistance as a sorry trifle, and always called the men who had +instituted it, “rebels.” But Captain Fane, who had seen service, and +fought stoutly against the very men, merely named them “provincials,” +and stated plainly that they were right, when they declared that they +had not lost the battle, since, though they were driven out of the +entrenchments, they had succeeded in no less an achievement than that of +blockading the English army. + +Lady Bell inquired with interest after Captain Fane’s own adventures, of +which he was specially unwilling to speak in such a company. But he told +what some of his messmates had done under fire: how they had been lying +waiting their turn from the surgeons, when red-hot shot had passed once +and again through the cockpit; notwithstanding, it had spared the +_Thunderbomb’s_ lads, though it was only for them to be lodged, by his +Majesty’s and the country’s kindness, in the other hospital, Greenwich. + +“I suppose the dear timber-toes prefer their beef salt and their tobacco +stale for the sake of old associations,” suggested Sir George mincingly. + +“Then, I’m sure it is no kindness to deny them their sweet tastes,” +followed up Mrs. Lascelles. “There need not be these rows about the +Lords of the Admiralty helping themselves to the funds. The Lords of the +Admiralty are always helping themselves to something, worse than the +Lords of the Treasury,—but both lords must live. Oh, forgive me, Captain +Fane, and don’t look so fierce. I dare say it is the shore that +demoralises your friends.” + +“I dare say it is, madam, if they are demoralised, which I, their +servant, have no business to take for granted,” replied Captain Fane +angrily. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + + DISCORD. + + +“I know that the shore demoralised my friend Lady Kitty Lake,” continued +Mrs. Lascelles benignly; “she could not be prevailed on to leave it +after she had reached it again. But what do you think her Commodore did +to her, my dear Lady Bell? Kept her under closed hatches—whatever these +may be—with no more light than half a tallow candle to make her head and +do herself up, whenever the ship had taken a prize, and there was an +insinuating enemy on board. However, she stole a march on her tyrant. +She amused herself in the middle of some shocking sea-fight, by getting +herself up in an imitation of her husband’s uniform. You must know she +is a big, imposing-looking woman, and he a little ton of a man, as fat +as one of the pigs in the coops, copper colour in complexion, bristling +all over with hogs’ hair, and in the habit of amusing himself with +cursing and swearing through a speaking-trumpet. I believe he is known +as the ‘Cursing Commodore,’ though how cursing should be a means of +distinguishing him from other commodores, I am at a loss to say. Well, +the moment the firing ceased, Lady Kitty, metamorphosed into a +creditable officer, ran upon deck, and was in time to get the enemy to +deliver up to her his sword, which she returned with a genteel bow. The +Commodore was so frightened for the trick’s being noised abroad—and he +laughed at, if not superseded—that he was forced to connive at it, and +so lost the opportunity of behaving with his usual brutality.” + +“Allow me to tell you, madam,” interposed Captain Fane, very sternly for +the occasion, “that Commodore Lake has the reputation of being a most +humane, as well as a very gallant officer in his squadron, to which I +have the honour to belong.” + +“I’m quite easy, sir,” lisped Mrs. Lascelles, without a second’s +awkwardness in the concession; “I tell the story as it was told to me. +Perhaps you have also the pleasure of knowing my friend Lady Kitty.” + +“No, madam; and I conjecture that I should not feel myself at all worthy +of the acquaintance,” growled Harry Fane. + +“Oh, I don’t know that, sir,” urged Mrs. Lascelles blandly. “Lady Kitty +makes every allowance; particularly when, poor soul! she is a prisoner +in a hideous den of a ship, with none but you amiable tars to make eyes +at, in order to pass her time.” + +“Now, can’t you be amiable, Harry,” said Lady Sundon, in an audible +aside, “as madam gives you credit for being without too much reason? +Yes, I assure you, madam,” declared Lady Sundon, in a louder key, and +directly addressing Mrs. Lascelles, “if my cousin had been on ship-board +with your Lady Kitty, he would have been mighty proud to be made eyes at +by so distinguished a lady, and would have done his best to entertain +her with his books, and maps, and specimens. He is a fellow of parts, +though he don’t do himself justice, or lay himself out to be agreeable.” + +“What a pity!” exclaimed Mrs. Lascelles sleepily. + +“Ain’t it?” responded Lady Sundon, with animation. “I often tell him so. +There! Harry, do you hear that?” + +“Captain Fane is obliged to you for telling me and the world what he +takes such pains to hide under a bushel,” remarked Mrs. Lascelles; “but +Lady Kitty is like myself,—she don’t much affect books and maps.” + +“No more do I,” said Lady Sundon cordially; “and I wish Harry would +throw them aside, and cultivate company manners.” + +“La! you know you don’t practise what you preach,” objected Miss Sundon, +who had been engrossed with admiration of Mrs. Lascelles and Sir George, +but who felt that it was time to vindicate the superior delicacy of +herself and her sister from any suspicion of complicity with Lady +Sundon’s breezy vigour. “You are always professing to sister and me, +Lady Sundon, when we try to hold you again, to get you to be quiet, and +to adopt that repose which is so necessary and becoming to a delicate +female—that you despise company manners.” + +“Because I ain’t a delicate female, child, and I am your father’s wife, +the mistress of you and Lyddy and the whole house, as I can tell all +concerned,” said Lady Sundon a little indignantly. “If I were a bad +mistress of Sir Peter’s family you would not venture to speak so to me; +therefore, I can well afford to let your foolish tongue wag without +minding it,” continued Lady Sundon, rapidly cooling down and recovering +her habitual good humour. “Besides, can’t you see that I am too old to +learn company manners, as I am too old to improve my mind, which I was +telling you t’other day, Lady Bell?” + +“Don’t learn anything that is foreign to you, dear Lady Sundon.” Lady +Bell forbade any change. “Be always yourself, your best self.” + +“And I shall crave leave, without any permission granted,” spoke up +Captain Fane, “to remain myself, even my worst self, rather than take a +leaf out of another man’s book, say Sir George Waring’s.” + +“Sir, I am honoured by figuring as your example.” Sir George nodded +slightly, and took snuff. + +Lady Bell was vexed by the turn the conversation was taking, and the +utter want of harmony in her company. Of what good the clear, curling +water, the precocious spring weather, the delightful gliding motion of +the boat which the rowers were sending along so smoothly to green +Richmond and Hampton—if quarrelling were the order of the day? + +Mrs. Lascelles might not dislike it at the expense of Lady Bell and her +host’s family, because it would form a tit-bit of conversation to +retail, well spiced and served hot, in the next party which Mrs. +Lascelles should enter. + +Sir George might not mind. This fashionable goddess and god were +somewhat above human feeling, and could take their sport out of the +discomfiture of others. But these others were troubled, and showed +themselves in their worst colours, and unreasonable Lady Bell blamed +Captain Fane as the cause. Why was he so stern in contradicting Mrs. +Lascelles’s incredible story of Lady Kitty Lake? Where was the use of +contradicting it at all, when nobody believed it, and when it was not +meant to be believed? Why was he so rude to Sir George Waring? + +Lady Bell tried to make a diversion in the conversation as the boat was +approaching Richmond. She began to remark upon the houses and their +occupants. + +Then the attention of Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles became concentrated +on a white house in the background, while they expatiated on the merits +and misfortunes of its owner. + +“It is enough to make a fellow doubt all good,” protested Sir George, +with something like melancholy energy, “to think of the fate of poor +dear Lady Di, consigned from the tender mercies of a fool only to those +of a brute!” + +“And she so clever to be twice taken in,” protested Lady Bell, with soft +wonder. “She is another Mrs. Damer, Captain Fane.” She turned to Harry +in explanation, thinking to propitiate the bear, and seeking to allay a +little twinge of conscience where her sweeping censure of that gentleman +was concerned. + +Had he not been attentive and kind to her on a recent occasion? By whose +fault after all had he been suffered to fall into neglect, or to be +twitted and tormented that day, until he had assumed an attitude of +marked hostility to those around him? + +“We are speaking of Lady Di Beauclerk, who can paint like a Breughel or +a Sneyders,” finished Lady Bell. + +“I dare say, sir”—Mrs. Lascelles came between the couple with her +affectation of artlessness—“you prefer a simpler, shorter road to +excellence. You think Lady Di would have been better employed if she had +been tossing pancakes, or hemming dish-clouts.” + +“I don’t know about simpler, shorter roads,” cried Captain Fane +defiantly, “but I confess I prefer straight lines, and I have no pity to +waste on crooked ones. I do think that your paragon, Lady Di, would have +been a vast deal better employed in bearing—ay, even in seeking to +better the enormities of one sinner, than in making a trial, for a +change, by the aid of the law of divorce, how she should like the +enormities of another. And when she finds that she cannot abide the +second any more than the first, she raises a precious pother, forsooth! +because she is properly punished.” + +Lady Bell was aggrieved, even shocked, by this plain speaking. Lady Di +had been so heavily punished for her errors, that she had arrived at +their being condoned, and had come to be treated herself as a sort of +cherished pet, not by her own set alone, but by wiser men and women. + +Who or what was this sailor, that he should roughly rend social veils, +tear asunder well-bred illusions, and sit in judgment on his +fellow-creatures, whose fearful stumbling-blocks and torturing +temptations he could never fathom? + +Lady Bell would have nothing more to say to Captain Fane. She bestowed +her entire regard on Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles. When the party +landed and walked up to Hampton Court, Lady Bell went with her +particular allies without looking over her shoulder. She suffered them +to lead her through the rooms which ambition, in its ostentation and +prodigality, had built, and she lingered especially in the +“Beauty-room.” She made as if she were absorbed by the meretricious, +un-English seeming beauties, and the unedifying traditions which they +had left behind them in the gossip of Gramont, quoted aptly and with +adroit reticence by Sir George. + +She paid no heed on this occasion to the Dutch garden, the long alleys, +the goodly boughs, the bridge across the river, with the pure blue sky +over all—she treated these as if they might be left out of the count, +and as if they did not deserve her notice. + +But Sir George took her into the “Maze,” and it was on Sir George that +she called, when she was weary of bewilderment, to unravel the +labyrinth, and find her a mode of exit. + +Sir George finally conducted Lady Bell to the village inn, where the +party were to dine, and seated her at the head of the table, in the +rustic tea-room, as the queen of the feast. + +Lady Bell allowed the particularity of this homage. She received it +all—either as if she were indifferent to what it ought to tend, or as if +she had never heard that Sir George was a notorious breaker of women’s +hearts, a hardened Lothario, whose wings no woman had been able to clip, +though he had been fluttering round women from his whelpdom to his +somewhat jaded prime of puppydom. + +In that prime Sir George was still slightly Harry Fane’s junior, while +Sir George was far nearer an Adonis by nature, with every personal point +immeasurably better brought out by art. But though Sir George had not +faced a bronzing climate or a battering service, the high-pressure +atmosphere of fashionable dissipation in which he had flourished, was +more telling than either alternative. In spite of his baptismal +register, Sir George in all his elegance looked not half so fresh and +hardly so young as Captain Fane. Manliness took some indemnification, +but such indemnification has not always been valued. There have been +women to whom such a world-worn hero as Sir George is irresistibly +attractive. There are women to this day, if their qualified annalists do +not lie, who prize such a reputation as Sir George Waring’s. + +This was not the reputation of an honest fellow, a true friend, a brave +worker, a gallant gentleman, a reverent and sincere Christian, even in +sorry days, for the most part, where Christianity was concerned. But it +was the reputation of a man gnawed to the core by the rust of +selfishness and self-conceit, who could sneer with the finished grace of +a cold-hearted man of the world, pluming himself on having ate of the +tree of the knowledge of good and evil—on the evil side alone, having +summarily rejected the good as unworthy of his consideration. + +Did Lady Bell belong to the order of women who admire such men? It +looked as if this man were to her taste; and to give the devil his due, +your fine gentleman, when he had everything his own way, could be +pleasant—few pleasanter among the best of good people. The very absence +of feeling, and presence of heartless good nature, invested Sir George +with a kind of airy agreeability and versatility. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + + THE LITTLE DINNER AT HAMPTON, WITH MUSIC ON THE WATER. + + +In the course of the little dinner in the Hampton tea-room, Sir George +would not only not sit down till the rest of the party were seated, but +he would supersede a regular waiter to wait upon his companions. It +might have been for the peculiar satisfaction of waiting on Lady Bell, +but certainly he did not confine his cares to that quarter of the table. +He, the finest gentleman in the room, but that was saying little, did +the whole waiting. He changed plates and placed glasses, and brought +round sauces, so neatly and so comically, with such cleverness, taste, +and devotion, making amends to everybody, as it were, for all his +previous shortcomings—not caring, though his own meal were cold, or +though he had not a meal at all—that it was hard, before so patent a +proof, not to think him unselfish as well as delightful. + +“Upon my word,” mumbled Lady Sundon, with her mouth full of cutlet, “Sir +George is the charmingest man going—he beats the women out and out, even +you, Lady Bell. I don’t wonder that nobody can say nay to him.” + +Mrs. Lascelles did not appear so bent on redeeming her character; she +still made wry faces and turned up her nose at the pickled walnuts and +the cherry pie. + +But Lady Bell was in her element. “I wonder if there are any cows here,” +she cried, peeping out of the window behind her. “If there had been such +a Whitefoot as we have at Summerhill, I might have run out and milked +her and whipped you a syllabub in no time. Yes, I can whip syllabubs, +Mrs. Lascelles, you need not look incredulous, and strain gooseberry +fool too, only this is not the season of the year for gooseberries.” + +“Ain’t it?” inquired Mrs. Lascelles with languid innocence. + +“Gracious, madam! did you not know that we hadn’t gooseberries in +February?” questioned Lady Sundon, staring goggle-eyed at this curious +piece of ignorance. + +Lady Bell went on without paying any heed to Mrs. Lascelles’ +affectation. “If my Mrs. Sundon or Master Charles were here they would +bear out my story.” + +“By bribery and corruption, only too excusable in such a court,” argued +Sir George. “But who may Master Charles be when he is at home? An +overgrown baby, as his name would imply, or a wild man of the woods, eh, +Lady Bell?” asked Sir George with privileged freedom, while preparing to +make his own dinner, like the most frugal of hermits, on bread and milk. +“No, don’t press any grosser fare upon me,” he waved off the eagerness +of his friends to repay his benefits. “I do enjoy an Arcadian meal at +times, when I have not only the felicity of being in Arcady, but of +being with nymphs in Arcady,” Sir George bowed, with his hand on his +heart. + +“It is fine to have the command of such language,” said Lady Sundon, +holding up her hands. + +“But about this Master Charles,” Sir George returned to the subject; +“can he, after partaking of such syllabubs and gooseberry fools, be +still a ruddy youth, with great hands and feet?” + +Lady Bell laughed, blushed, and winced a little for her friend. Beside +Sir George Master Charles would appear ruddy, and his Lumley-bought +gloves and boots did not tend to diminish the natural size of his hands +and feet; but where was the harm—in the ruddiness especially, unless she +had learnt to despise rude health, like the Misses Sundon? They had been +putting severe restraint on themselves, that they might not taste more +than a morsel, after being hours on the water, not so much to bear Sir +George company, for they had not foreseen his temperance, as to display +their own ethereal appetites. + +Harry Fane had watched Lady Bell narrowly. “She is not only of the world +worldly, she is as heartless as the others,” was his scornful +conclusion. “She is ashamed of the mere recollection of some poor +befooled country fellow, whatever he may be, better than this mocking +jackanapes; but what does it matter to me?” + +“A penny for your thoughts, Harry,” cried Lady Sundon, “or if you won’t +give us them, propose a toast, do something for the good of the +company.” + +“I drink to you, then, cousin, since you have started the idea,” replied +Captain Fane, so soberly that it was almost gloomily, after he found +that he could not escape, and that the attention of the party was +directed to him. + +“A plague on the lad! to give an old married woman who might be his +mother,” remonstrated Lady Sundon, “but if you are all so kind, thanks +to you,” and Lady Sundon beamed radiantly on the raised glasses. + +“Now, Lady Bell, I’m ready for Master Charles,” suggested Sir George, +holding up his glass of milk. + +“Nothing of the kind,” said Lady Bell, getting nettled. “At least Master +Charles is not a milksop; supposing you will pledge in no better, you +must pledge yourself, Sir George. I give ‘Sir George Waring,’ and I +couple my toast with a sentiment: ‘May we persevere in and profit by +simplicity.’” + +“I respond to your toast with the humblest gratitude, and I drink your +sentiment with all the pleasure in life, for have I not profited by +simplicity already this day?” rejoined Sir George, with perfect +good-humour, looking not a whit annoyed, but rather gratified, by Lady +Bell’s poor little wit being spent upon him—a cheerful nonchalance which +put Lady Bell to shame. + +Affronted with herself, Lady Bell began hastily to talk of the +cockle-shells which had been found by the bushel under one of the floors +of Somerset House; and that led to a discussion of the exchange which +the Queen had made in giving up Somerset House for Buckingham House. + +The discussion paved the way for Mrs. Lascelles descanting on the +petition of the maids of honour that they might get a compensation in +lieu of supper, which was worth seventy pounds more salary. + +When the party went back to the boat, the day was terminating in the +rosiest sunset which ever breathed of spring, youth, and promise. + +“I vow we must be in Arcady,” repeated Sir George. With all his pretence +at fine language, he had just the tiniest spark of the soul of a lover +of nature. Yet the glow which blushed on the water and shone on all the +faces, and was only the brighter and the gladder for the chill bleakness +of winter scarcely forsaken, awoke some small response even in his +artificial nature. + +As for Captain Fane, he sat with his cap in his hand, letting the breeze +blow in his hair, looking down the river towards the open sea, wishing +he were away in his ship. Life was bad enough on ship-board sometimes, +in the depths of tyranny, ignorance, profanity, and mutiny; but there +the mass of men, even at their worst, were toilsome men in rough +earnest. There, in the night-watches, a man could be alone with sea and +sky, until he forgot the very existence of heartless fine ladies and +expert actors of fine gentlemen. + +“We want only music to make the hour complete,” said Sir George. “Lady +Bell, might I beg—?” + +Lady Bell hesitated, then yielding to the spirit of the hour, commenced +to sing an air from the popular opera. + +Sir George struck in with a mellow second, singing being one of this +fine gentleman’s accomplishments, as well as playing on the flute and +the flageolet. + +The song was warmly applauded by all save Captain Fane. Even Lady Sundon +praised, while she frankly admitted that she did not comprehend a word +of the jargon, “but nevertheless do let us have some more of it.” + +“We shall have these boats following us, Lady Sundon,” objected Harry +Fane, looking round sharply from where he was steering, and indicating, +among the work-a-day barges, two boats filled with company, that had +been attracted like themselves to a row on the river by a day borrowed +from April and set in the end of February. These boats had already been +drawn into the wake of the first by the singing. + +“What though the boats do follow, they ain’t going to run us down,” +stout Lady Sundon made light of the demur; “you are becoming quite a +kill-joy, Harry Fane.” + +It was an extraordinary sensation for Lady Bell to have the propriety of +her behaviour doubted by a man—a sailor—before these pinks of fashion, +Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles, who had been contributing to put Lady +Bell at her ease. + +She disliked the ruggedness of Captain Fane as much as she liked the +suavity of Sir George, which no sauciness of hers could disturb, for she +had been saucy in substituting Sir George’s own name as a toast which he +might drink in milk. + +Lady Bell looked Harry Fane in the face and challenged Sir George to +accompany her in something which Lady Sundon would approve—“Begone, dull +care,” or “Pray Goody, cease,” a challenge which Sir George accepted, +nothing loth. + +But before the first song was concluded, one of the boats in the rear +shot across the bow of the Sundons’ boat, and three or four excited men, +in white vests and rich coats like Sir George’s, threatened to upset +both of the craft as they gesticulated violently, while they shouted— + +“Heyday! Waring, hold on! What little opera-girl have you got there? +Here, pitch her over to us, that she may tip us a stave. We’ve been +dining at Kew, and we’ll engage to troll, among us, as good an +accompaniment as you can contrive with your single pipe, sweet though it +be.” + +“Hold off! Annesley, Gower; mind what you’re about. You’re absurdly +wrong, I tell you, and if you don’t set yourselves right, by heavens! +I’ll have to take the correcting of you into my own hands,” called back +Sir George, frowning blackly for once in his life. + +“It is true, confound him!” cried one of the strange gentlemen, letting +his boat fall off. “He’s in other company; yonder is Mrs. Lascelles—who +would have thought it?—and there is an avenging fury of a naval officer +porting helm. Good afternoon, Sir George, good afternoon to you,” +dropped more faintly over the water. + +But Lady Bell had shrunk into herself abashed, recalled to her senses, +and deeply wounded alike in her self-respect and her pride. + +Not all the solicitations and excuses of Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles +could make Lady Bell immediately forget the indignity to which she had +exposed herself, or forgive them for promoting the exposure, though she +was silent on her feelings, and as willing as the others to welcome a +diversion. + +The day was so complete in its spring character, that at sundown a +little cloud of midges seemed to start into life and hover in the air. + +“How short their day is!” said Lady Bell regretfully for the ephemera. +“I know they are only creatures of a day, but to come and go so soon,—if +they had waited for a few more months, they might have danced through a +few more hours, and not been pinched by so sharp a death. Who knows?” + +“My dear creature,—forgive me; my best Lady Bell,” Sir George corrected +himself, “the midges have been highly honoured, even before you +condescended to pity them. They have more than served their +purpose,—they have helped to furnish an illusion for us, that this +February day by the calendar, is in the merry month of May by our +experience, and that Hampton is Arcady. Now, here we are past Chelsea, +fast coming back to the coarse dissipation of the garish town and the +cold winds of March; what should remain to the midges, but to be swept +aside with the illusion?” + +Lady Bell turned away her head and shut her eyes for a moment, she did +not wish to see even the midges swept aside. She did not like the +philosophy of which she and hers formed always the centre. She had not +consented to view life as a rainbow-hued but hollow mockery, a mere +series of convenient, spangled illusions. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + + A VISIT TO LEICESTER FIELDS. + + +Captain Fane, of his own free will, would not have paid another visit to +Cleveland Court, before he returned to his ship. So far as it rested +with him, he had made up his mind—a great deal too tartly for perfect +indifference—to have nothing more to do with fine ladies, and to turn +his back on fine ladies’ entertainers, so long as they were cumbered +with such troublesome guests. + +But Captain Fane had business with Sir Peter, who was, indeed, about to +appoint Harry Fane one of the guardians to his young son, and so +punctilious and conscientious a young man as Harry Fane could not see it +his duty to renounce this trust because circumstances had rendered it +distasteful to him. + +Thus it happened, that while Captain Fane felt scandalised by the manner +in which Lady Bell Trevor had suffered herself to float doubly with the +tide, in the water-party, while he kept telling himself caustically that +he need not have expected anything else, and continued setting his face, +more like a flint than ever, against fashionable frivolity and levity—he +yet found himself on the steps of Sir Peter Sundon’s house. + +And at that moment Lady Bell, attended by her maid, tripped out in her +calèche and with her hands clasped in her muff, clearly starting on an +expedition. + +Lady Bell distanced and dumbfounded Captain Fane, who was unfamiliar +with the changes of mind and revolutions in tactics of even the staidest +and most demure of womankind. + +She stopped him as he was about to pass her with a formally low bow, by +holding out a friendly little hand, and bestowing on him the unsolicited +information, that she was bound for the great painter in Leicester +Fields, who had made so fine a picture of Commodore Keppel. + +She was not a sitter herself, but she had made interest to see the +paintings which Sir Joshua Reynolds had on hand. + +She knew that she should never be able to look upon her daubs after this +morning, but, woman-like, she must go and meet her fate, though it were +her demolition. + +Sir Joshua’s pictures were works of genius in his line, equal to Mr. +Boulton’s and Mr. Wedgwood’s exhibitions; therefore, she ventured to +offer Captain Fane the benefit of her ticket, as a poor return for his +former kindness. + +She was all alone, save her maid, Rogers, because Lady Sundon was +engaged with Sir Peter, and the Misses Sundon could not stand the smell +of paint without the risk of incurring megrim or vertigo. She was more +fortunate—but then she had always dabbled in paints, and so was used to +the odour. + +Before Captain Fane knew what he was about, he had turned, and was +walking away by her side in acceptance of her invitation. Neither did he +detest or despise himself for his weakness, as might have been expected. + +Lady Bell had succeeded, without a word of confession or acknowledgment, +by the shy, wistful appeal of her eyes as she prattled to him, in making +him comprehend that she had seen that he was right and she was wrong in +their respective opinions of much that had happened at the water-party. +She implied that she was sorry for having offended and alienated him; +that she had resolved on following, in future, rational pursuits, +instead of mere idle pleasure-hunting,—witness her early homage to art +this morning. + +Captain Fane could not even accuse himself of meddling in a matter which +was none of his, far less could he accuse himself of madly foolish +motives. + +Was it not in some measure the business of every honourable, kindly man +to encourage a girl like Lady Bell, in any intelligent interest that +might help to educate her, and raise her above the giddy vacant crowd of +fashionables, with whom idleness was the fruitful parent of mischief? + +Ought he not to alter his arrangements, and put himself a little out of +his way for one morning, to see that she did not fall into company like +that of the hateful Sir George Waring, when she was walking abroad with +no better protection than her maid’s? + +True, it was broad day, and with that it was also betimes in the +forenoon, doubtless an age before Sir George was up holding his levee, +in his brocade nightgown, as he sipped his chocolate, and pencilled his +daily note to Mrs. Lascelles. + +But people could not be too careful, under some conditions. Lady Sundon +was certainly as fearless and heedless, as Lady Bell was guileless and +thoughtless. It became Captain Fane’s part to supplement the absence of +some of the proper qualities of a guardian in his cousin. + +If Lady Sundon was lax, the strictness and zeal of Captain Fane on Lady +Bell’s behalf might, if the persons principally concerned had given +themselves time to think about it, have astonished even them. But this +young couple, after the questionable fashion of young couples, did not +pause to weigh their relations—they took them for granted. + +Lady Bell had even so pleasing a trust in the sedately fault-finding +young sea-captain, that she had not the slightest qualm when he at once +did her bidding and consented to be elected her escort, such as she +would have had with almost any other of the gay danglers about her, and +notably with the agreeable Sir George. “Captain Fane is such a manly, +true young spark,” she took it upon her to decide, for her private +satisfaction, though how she had arrived at the strong conclusion after +one or two bantering, bickering interviews, unless from information +derived from Lady Sundon, to whose judgment Lady Bell was not wont to +pin her faith, it puzzles one to guess. “He is a little prejudiced and +hard,” continued Lady Bell, mentally taking stock of her companion, “but +I can melt him” (there was the triumph!). “I think I know how he would +look boarding a ship, and how I could make him drop his sword,” which +was a purely imaginative vision. + +As Lady Bell and Captain Fane passed along the streets, they became +eye-witnesses to a curious political contradiction. At one thoroughfare, +men were stationed with handbills, to be distributed to respectable and +influential persons, especially to members of parliament, praying them +to stop the shedding of their American brethren’s blood. At another +thoroughfare, the pedestrians had to thread their way through a +crowd—the centre of which was the common hangman in the act of burning, +to the accompaniment of tumultuous applause, copies of a pamphlet +entitled “The Present Crisis with respect to America,” which had been +condemned by both Houses, as a flagrant insult to the King. + +Captain Fane informed Lady Bell that this difference of opinion had even +penetrated to the services. He brought forward the instance of Lord +Viscount Pitt, son to my Lord Chatham, having asked leave to resign his +commission, since he was determined not to serve in a war between the +mother country and her colony. + +“And what do you say, sir?” inquired Lady Bell. + +“I say that it is too late to stop a fratricidal war, save by fighting +it out as quickly as may be, and that even if it were not so, it is for +me to obey, not to issue, orders,” he replied with decision. + +At Leicester Fields Lady Bell’s ticket procured the admission of the +lady and her friend, first into the parlour, where an untidy, abrupt, +cordial elderly woman, was herself painting a miniature and hurriedly +sopping up her spilt paint, when she heard the steps of visitors. + +This was Mrs. Frances Reynolds, who painted “The grimly ghost of +Johnson,” and wrote the “Essay on Taste”—printed but never published. +She was soon on familiar terms with the intruders. + +“My brother will be certain to spare time for you,” Miss Reynolds +assured Lady Bell, “he is like the rest of the geniuses, not above the +flattery of such a visit. Bah! haven’t I known them all, Burke, Goldy, +Dr. Johnson, who has wished my tea-pot might never run dry, and yet +hurried off to help himself with his own spoon out of a Countess’s +sugar-bason, and been put down—to put her down in turn in the presence +of her grand company? Ah! well, I have never wished the great Doctor +would stay by his own fire-side, though he has forced Joshua to rise and +take his hat, if he would not sit on into the small hours, and have us +all winking with sleep as the only hint to our visitor to be gone. I +don’t know that we think ourselves so enviable. You’ll be sent for to +the painting-room presently, Lady Bell—no, you need not look at my baby +faces—child’s play to the doings of my brother,—the man in Cavendish +Square can never come near them, though I should not say it. But first +you must let me have a look at you, for even we poor artists hear of the +belles of the season, with other public matters, in the conversation of +sitters, and when we are bidden to look in at a conversazione, or a +rout, now and then.” + +“Oh, pray, Miss Reynolds, don’t make me public property,” cried Lady +Bell, in laughing objection. + +“If my brother seek to paint you, as he has painted so many of your +sisterhood, you will become public property, whether you like it or no,” +boasted the sister, “you cannot help it, madam, it is a tax you owe to +the country, like the tax on powder or armorial bearings. But who is +this gentleman? I did not catch his name. Oh! my brother has done many +naval men, and for my part, I like his Lord Mount Edgcumbe and Commodore +Keppel, as well as any face which he has put through his hands. My Lord +Mount Edgcumbe is a Devonshire man, and for Commodore Keppel he gave +Joshua his first lift, and we may well love a dog with the name of +‘Keppel,’ as Dr. Johnson could love a dog if it were called ‘Hervey.’” + +The garrulous inquisitive lady was interrupted by her little niece, as +quiet as the aunt was a rattle, and as shy and attentive to the +proprieties as Miss Reynolds was impetuous and eccentric. This young +girl was Sir Joshua’s Offy Palmer, whom he was to immortalise, reading +“Clarissa,” and who was to be Mrs. Gwatkin, while her sister was to be +the heiress of the largest fortune acquired by the prosecution of art in +this inartistic England, and to marry the Marquis of Thomond. She +brought a message that her uncle was free from a sitter then, and for +the next half hour, and that he was coming himself to take Lady Bell +Trevor and Captain Fane to his painting-room, where he would shew them +the pictures in his possession. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + + SIR JOSHUA AT HOME. + + +In another instant there entered a fresh, almost chubby-faced gentleman, +with a dint in his nether lip, and an ear-trumpet in his hand. He was +not without a certain dapperness in the unexceptionable brown coat and +spotless ruffles, which he had substituted for his painting-coat and +plain cuffs. + +He was the briskest of gentlemen, the most obliging of geniuses who ever +kept sitters in good humour and under control, by the very ease of his +dignity in bearing with their airs and oddities. + +The contemporary of the glorious, careless good-fellow Gainsborough, of +Romney in his arrogant, one-sided power, and later of Opie, the most +self-taught and the most self-asserting painter among them—Sir Joshua +beat them all. + +It may be true that his art was pervaded with an artificial, +aristocratic flavour, and that he made a little lady of his strawberry +girl, and modern English my lords of every historical personage who +passed under his pencil. + +Painters may feel it their duty, from their watch-tower of technical +knowledge, to impress on the world their grieved conviction, that the +president of the old Academy, so widely cultivated, so full of sense and +acumen, in addition to his professional ability, and to the industry +which “never passed a day and lost a line,” the chosen friend of the +most public-spirited men of his time—yet painted deliberately for a +single generation. + +He was, according to his brethren, wilful and regardless of the +destructive nature of the pigment which he used, so that they produced a +certain effect to last his time. His accusers point in proof of their +charge to the fading lines and cracking canvas of the very works of +which all Englishmen are proud. + +So be it, if it must be so; we have still the poetry (let some hold it +fantastic) of the Tragic Muse, the gallant heroism of Keppel, the +thoughtful benevolence of Johnson, the broad archness of Nelly O’Brien; +and we have following on the dainty playfulness of “Pick-a-back” a long +train of fresh and delicate, lovely and stately, English maids and +matrons, with Sir Joshua’s quaint sweet children bringing up the rear. + +In Lady Bell’s day there was no thought, unless it were among the +chemically skilled, that these softly glowing, wonderfully blended +colours would wane, or the fine surface give way. Sir Joshua was +regarded as the quintessence of inspired and courtly painters, treading +in the footsteps of Van-dyck. + +Sir Joshua had only a few of his paintings to show the eager, +intelligent young lady, whose grace was so winning to his eye, and her +eloquence so grateful to his ear—through his trumpet—as it reached him. +There were fair ladies sacrificing to the graces and to the muses, very +interesting to Lady Bell. There was Dr. Beattie in his gown as an Oxford +Doctor of Laws, with his book on “The Immutability of Truth” under his +arm, and the Angel of Truth going before him, beating down the gruesome +figures of Sophistry, Scepticism, and Infidelity, said to personify +Voltaire, Gibbon, and Hume, which was carefully studied by Captain Fane. +There was the doom of Count Ugolino and his sons, which enchained with +the fascination of horror both of the gazers. There was the portrait of +a plump little woman, sprightly even on canvas, her high-dressed hair +wreathed with pearls, a shawl girdle binding loosely the short waist and +bodice, which Sir Joshua strove to paint into fashion—a great +improvement on the earlier elongated steel-bound waist and laced-up +bodice. + +As Sir Joshua was about to name the original, the real lady ran +unushered, in her hat and cloak, into the room. + +The new-comer had not a moment to stay to be introduced to Lady Bell +Trevor and Captain Fane. She was in haste to tell Sir Joshua that she +had just come down from the Burgh, where she had left her master at his +place of business, but nearly as ailing as the Doctor (good lack, what a +load she had on her head and shoulders!). She wished to know whether Sir +Joshua had done the re-touching which he had taken it into his head to +throw away on a barn-door face beyond improvement. Give her joy on the +audacity of complimenting herself; but she did not mean to +compliment—not that she was not well enough pleased with her own, she +would never deny it. She would like the picture packed and sent out +without loss of time. Queeney and the rest of the young fry might care +to look at it one day, when it was all that was left of their mother. +Good day to him and to all. + +“You are in luck, Lady Bell,” announced Sir Joshua, returning, briskly +rubbing his hands, from seeing the lady to her coach, “if you have not +had a previous opportunity of meeting my friend. That is Mrs. Thrale, +the wife of the great brewer, who is himself an exceedingly liberal +gentleman and well-read scholar; but his wife excels him in the +classics.” + +“She was one of the west country Lynches,” said Lady Bell, showing her +acquaintance with the lady’s antecedents. + +“It is she who has made a home for the great Doctor at that pattern of +country houses, Streatham,” continued Sir Joshua. “She has preserved an +invaluable life, madam, years longer to the country, by taking Dr. +Johnson’s health under her care, as she has often told us, and by +nursing him out of some of his worst attacks and most injurious habits. +Would to God her efforts could continue successful, both with him and +Mr. Thrale, who is, I fear, in a bad way, and on the brink of an +apoplexy.” + +“She deserves all honour,” said Lady Bell warmly. + +“The more so that her cares seem to sit lightly on her.” Captain Fane +could not resist the sly hit. + +Lady Bell flashed a little reproach upon him from her eyes, which looked +as if she were condescending to take his manners, as Mrs. Thrale had +taken Dr. Johnson’s health, under her special superintendence. + +“A matter of temperament,” pronounced the genially philosophic painter. + +Sir Joshua, who enjoyed his own reputation as an urbane and accomplished +man of the world, as he enjoyed most things in the pleasantly prosperous +places in which his lines were cast, began to talk to Captain Fane of +Captain Cook, with whom the painter’s friend, Dr. Burney’s son, had made +a voyage round the world; and of Sir Joseph Banks’s collection of +objects of natural history, which Captain Fane had seen under the care +of young Mr. Jenner, the favourite pupil of Dr. Hunter. + +Sir Joshua had made a happy choice of subjects to which Captain Fane was +alive, and in which he was well informed. The gentlemen talked like +kindred spirits, while Lady Bell, to her credit, was content to remain +in the background, and listen with deference and delight. She was +innocently proud of her companion. + +How very different was the figure which Captain Fane cut to-day, in +company with a genius who was at the same time a finished gentleman of +any school, from the figure which Captain Fane had presented at the +sailing-party! + +What other male friend of Lady Bell’s could have stood so severe a test, +and come out of it so splendidly? Not Sir George Waring, in spite of his +elegance and his musical talents, any more than Master Charles. Lady +Bell was deeply impressed by Captain Fane’s gifts, which he was really +in the habit of hiding under a bushel. She was almost provoked when Sir +Joshua remembered his duty to her, not guessing how well pleased she was +that he should forget it, and began to tell her of the one lady who +belonged to the Royal Society of Artists, Mrs. Angelica Kauffman. + +It was not a difficult process to make a digression to those ladies who +were amateur artists, and to render Lady Bell, in spite of her _savoir +faire_, bashfully grateful, by deigning to drop a hint for her benefit +on the mixing and laying-on of colours, and on the drawing of such +slight designs as Sir Joshua had himself afforded to Poggi for his fans. + +“I thought t’other morning we spent together was very happy,” Lady Bell +spoke out of the fulness of her heart to her squire when they were in +the square, and he was looking out for a chair that she might get home +in time to keep an appointment with her mantua-maker; “but I shall be +always recalling this day and its lessons when I am busiest and happiest +at Summerhill.” + +“Don’t you think I shall recall it, Lady Bell,” asked Harry Fane, “when +for a studio in which to busy myself, I shall be reduced to ‘between +decks,’ and for my fine arts shall be setting men to rig spars and haul +in sails, varied by pointing a gun instead of a telescope, and +submitting to be carried down into the cockpit?” + +“Oh, no; you won’t be carried there!” cried Lady Bell, with impetuous +haste. + +“At least I did not mean to crave pity from you,” protested Harry with +unconscious tenderness shaking his firm voice. “A grumpy, hulking fellow +who has been so much at sea that he has lost the manœuvre of giving a +wide berth to what displeases his crotchets on shore, is of no good save +to shout orders in a storm, or to keep a look-out against the national +enemy.” + +Lady Bell did not contradict him, but she looked in his face, somewhat +set and lined for a man of his age, but an honest and manly face, which +had looked its kindest on her, the hardness in which she could melt, as +she had said, like the melting of a block of ice before a meridian sun. + +She gave him a parting look as the chair-men lifted her chair, which +raised a mighty commotion, for which Lady Bell was decidedly answerable, +in the blue-coated breast of the young man—thought so long-headed and +calm-hearted, so rational, discreet, and obdurate, that he could be let +cast stones at all the follies and extravagancies of his time. Lady +Bell’s look said, “You are good for all that is cleverest, truest, +bravest—not to the world, perhaps, for you know, none better, that the +world is a giddy, vicious, Vanity Fair—but to me. You need not tell +others that I say so, but I say it; and you need not forget that I said +it, in the long days during which I am mixing with people whom you +justly despise, or have taken refuge at Summerhill; and when you are +sailing on the high seas, doing your duty like a man, guarding our +shores, and fighting our foes.” + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + + THE MASQUED BALL IN PROSPECT. + + +Captain Fane, though he _was_ rational, and had a regard for +consequences, was fallible, and did not cease to frequent his cousin’s +house in Cleveland Court, because of that very inconsiderate look of +Lady Bell’s. + +On the contrary, he who was no dangler in drawing-rooms, and was wont to +improve his time in town by going afresh over the libraries and museums, +and by attending every gathering and discussion of scientific men, began +to haunt Lady Sundon’s rooms, until even that hospitably-disposed +kinswoman could not refrain from an uneasy private comment, “Something’s +going to happen to Harry Fane; he is turning up for ever, like a new +farthing. He used to make himself as scarce and hard to find as a gold +guinea, but now he has become dirt-cheap, and is always lying about in +everybody’s way. Lady Bell, Lady Bell, I hope you understand that I only +bade you sort my cousin in jest. I hope that you have not to answer for +a brave sailor’s undoing. He has enough of knocking about in the open +sea, without being run down in the harbour; and I consider Harry like a +son of my own, since his own folk are all dead and gone.” + +Lady Bell bore the unspoken charge as if she were perfectly innocent, +save that even a more brilliant bloom than she had shown lately, glowed +in her cheeks and was reflected in her eyes. + +Lady Bell was full of a gaiety of the season in which she was about to +take a part, and which was novel to her. “I dare say I shall soon have +had enough of the gay world—my fling, as you call it, Lady Sundon—but I +have not yet been to a masquerade,” explained Lady Bell; “I confess that +I am dying with curiosity to see what it is like. Only fancy one’s +ordinary neighbours and friends as sultanas and chimney-sweeps, Queen +Elizabeths and Richard the Thirds. Oh! I think it must be charmingly +romantic and diverting—that fun of finding people out, and of baffling +their curiosity, while you may be as witty as you please and can.” + +“All very fine, my dear; but Cornely’s masquerades were not exactly the +place for seeing proper company”—Lady Sundon played the monitor for +once—“and at the old Pantheon masquerades, Covent-Garden women and +highwaymen used to mix with the regular guests. How could it be +otherwise, when nobody could tell who was who?” + +“Yet you all went to these places, my dear Lady Sundon,” Lady Bell +coaxed her friend, “and riots have gone out of fashion. Besides, this +masquerade is to be given by the gentlemen of White’s. They are to have +lady patronesses. At an hour fixed upon, each lady and gentleman is to +unmask, so that one could not be safer in a private house. Indeed I am +very glad that the gentlemen of White’s are to be prodigiously gallant, +and give a masquerade ball this year, when I happen to be in town. +Tickets must be procured for you and Nancy and Lyddy, Lady Sundon; of +course they must. I’ll never rest till the deficiency is supplied; I’ll +not stir a foot, or order a costume, without you.” + +Lady Bell referred to the circumstance that in consequence of the run on +masquerade tickets, and the ultra exclusiveness of the set issuing them, +only one ticket to Lady Bell Trevor had found its way to Cleveland +Court. “So Nancy and Lyddy are down in the mouth,” Lady Sundon said; +“and for myself, I own I’m an old fool; but if the affair is to be above +board, I’d give my two ears yet to see the play.” + +There was less difficulty for gentlemen in getting admittance, and when +Lady Bell, the moment the club masquerade was announced, raised her +eager voice in its favour, Captain Fane had only to speak to a brother +officer, who was a member of the club, in order to have a ticket. Harry +Fane made a specious excuse to Lady Sundon for his haste to countenance +this vanity. + +“It is not that I approve of such an entertainment; I have heard from +yourself that it is one of the most lax and perilous in an age of +ridottos and public gardens—the more reason why as many sober and +virtuous people as can make an entrance, should use their right to +confront the foolish and vicious, and protect the innocent and unwary.” + +“Harry, don’t draw scores before my nose,” objected Lady Sundon +emphatically, and when the gentleman moved away discomfited, she +concluded her remark for her own benefit, “as if you would have been in +such a case to act as a bodyguard even to me and Nancy and Lyddy! The +grand passion has much to answer for, in playing such pranks with a +staid, sensible fellow, who has very little patrimony besides his pay, +and ought to know he is not a fit match for my Lady Bell. I meant that +his comb should be cut, for he carried it over high; but I’m frighted +that it is done only too closely. And he’s my own flesh and blood, +though Lady Bell is a charming young woman, and I could eat her, I have +taken to her so hugely. Besides, it is a credit and pleasure to show her +about in town, which is in the habit of thinking naught of the wares of +a country body like me.” + +Lady Bell’s influence would have gained the tickets which were wanting, +but, in the interval before the ball, there came the threat of a family +calamity that effectually prevented the Sundons’ attendance, and very +nearly put a stop to Lady Bell’s making acquaintance with the delights +of a masquerade. + +Word arrived that Lady Sundon’s only child, the son and heir of the +family, had met with a dangerous accident, by a fall from a tree, in one +of the meadows near his grammar school, a week before. He had not +recovered his senses when the letter was written, though the chances +were, from the number of days which had elapsed, that the hurt must have +yielded, so far, to medical skill. A fatal termination would have caused +the despatch of a special messenger, who would have reached London and +preceded the announcement of the accident in the slow course of post. + +But great was the flurry and distress. Poor Lady Sundon prepared to set +out instantly for the scene of the accident, to nurse her son, should +she find him alive to be nursed by her. + +The Misses Sundon, who had been wont to utter, as loudly as the +plaintiveness of their reproaches would permit, charges of undue +preference on the part of Sir Peter for his boy over his girls, and of +gross indulgence and spoiling on the part of the boy’s mother, were +sufficiently kindly women, in spite of their follies, to be cut up by +their half-brother’s danger, and to forget altogether, in their roused +and alarmed affection, that they had insisted on electing themselves the +young master’s rivals. + +Lyddy Sundon, who was the more energetic of the sisters, would not hear +of any other arrangement than that she should accompany Lady Sundon in +her journey, and remain with her, to assist in nursing the little lad. + +Lady Sundon, whose rosy, elderly face was purple with subdued +excitement, while she could not keep the moisture out of her eyes by the +repeated furtive movement of her hand across her face, did not fail to +be touched by the token of respect and regard. “I’m sure it’s very good +of you, Lyddy,” the mother said, with all her heart. “I ain’t likely to +forget it, no, nor your father neither; and I trust my Ned will remember +it when he is a man, for, by God’s mercy, he may live to see us out +yet.” + +Nancy Sundon undertook to devote herself, in his wife’s absence, to the +care of Sir Peter, naturally suffering more than ever, though he was +driven for the moment to forget his own sufferings. + +“But our trouble, which may end well, for all that is come and gone, +please God, is not your trouble, Lady Bell, so go to your masquerade +yourself, my dear,” the good-natured woman told Lady Bell at parting. +“I’ll take ‘The Cries of London’ to amuse Neddy, as you wish, and thank +you heartily for the thought. But I am sure it would vex any child of +mine on his bed, as it would vex me, if he could know that he was +keeping you, who have nothing to do with him, poor boy, save in your +good will, from a grand treat. Go when it is your day, and enjoy +yourself with the best, Lady Bell, bless you! We don’t grudge you the +enjoyment, though we have come to grief.” + +“Sure, you don’t; but never think of me, my dear Lady Sundon; may a +blessing and the best of luck go with you. I hope and pray that you will +find your boy a great deal better than you expect, and that we shall all +have such a merry meeting again that the finest masquerade will be +thrown into the shade.” And Lady Bell fully meant to give up the +masquerade. + +But scarcely had Lady Sundon and Lyddy set out, when another deliberate +post letter arrived in Cleveland Court, with the cheering tidings that +the sufferer was doing well, and was likely to recover without +sustaining any material and permanent injury from his fall. + +The chief source of anxiety was removed, and Lady Bell was free to +resume her intention of being present at the ball, and was not reduced +to eclipse its splendour by being absent, as a throng of the givers of +the feast were ready to profess. Miss Sundon might have accompanied Lady +Bell, but the former preferred, on the whole, after the late shock to +her nerves, to remain a martyr to her new responsibility, and to relapse +into luxuriating tenderly over the last grievance. + +Lady Bell, in her widowed dignity, could dispense with a companion. She +knew, moreover, with an idle, exultant throb, that in addition to her +many admirers, more or less fervent, and more or less men of many ties, +with their hearts split into segments, and distributed pretty equally +over a select circle of fashionable belles, there was one man who would +only see her in the motley company, who was in it for her sake, who, +crusty, cantankerous sailor as she had judged him at first, needed but a +wave of her hand, and a glance of her eye, to be at her side, at her +feet. + +Lady Bell, whether she confessed it to herself or not, went on to draw +conclusions from the significant circumstance that Captain Fane, of his +own free will, departed from his rule and put himself about to be one in +a scene so unpalatable to his tastes as this masquerade. + +Lady Bell did more. She looked within, and she recognised with a +breathless flutter of mingled wonder, trepidation, and bliss, an +astounding fact. The chief glory of the masquerade to her would be the +presence of this quondam growling and grave young officer. + +Lady Bell was perfectly aware that Harry Fane, though well-born, was +poor, and that—while she believed he was an excellent officer, and while +she had heard him speak like a natural philosopher to a man of genius—he +was a fellow of no mark in her fashionable world. His very profession +was against him in some respects. + +Lady Bell well knew that Captain Fane would be reckoned a most +unsuitable match, the poorest _parti_ for a beauty, a Lady Bell, a young +widow who had begun her career of worldly prosperity very fairly, and +had then taken the world by storm. Was she to end by wantonly +squandering her advantages, for which she had paid dearly enough in her +day; was she to slight the great matches that might be in store for her, +the coronets, the amorous squires, richer than Trevor of Trevor Court, +the exquisite beaux like Sir George Waring, for so sober and in the +world’s eye so insignificant a figure? Was she, as a lovely widow, +rather to copy the example of the Duchess of Manchester with her +Irishman, of whom all the world had talked, or that of the Duchess of +Leinster with her Scotchman, of whom all the world was talking, in +stooping to confer grace, than follow the lead of Lady Waldegrave in +aiming as high as the gusty neighbourhood of a throne? Lady Bell laughed +in mockery of herself a little hysterically. She made a feint of trying +to find time and heart to scold herself, and at the same time she +blushed like a rose at the mere thought, and trembled with a +newly-discovered happiness. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + + THE MASQUED BALL AS IT BEGAN IN REALITY. + + +Lady Bell was coy. She was provoking, she was wilful, and she was +perverse, in the strange gladness which was so dashed with emotion, but +of which she strove hard, and almost succeeded, to show only the +frolicksome side. + +“I shan’t tell you what I am going to wear, Captain Fane,” Lady Bell +said, “and you are not to tell whether you are to be a peasant or a +prince. I shall put my fingers in my ears if you do. I mean to keep my +secret. I tell you all the fun will be in finding each other out—as if I +could not find him out among a thousand,” she said to herself, while her +glance fell beneath his reproachful gaze, “and if he should be too +stupid to guess me under a disguise,” she added—always for her own +satisfaction—“why I can take off my mask and enlighten him at any +moment.” + +Captain Fane was forced to submit, thinking in some measure, as his +mistress thought, “Well, the information beforehand would only be a +precaution to save time. However crowded the rooms may be, she can never +elude me.” + +But neither Lady Bell nor Captain Fane had ever been at a masquerade +ball. On the lady and gentleman’s separate arrivals, after a way had +been made through the excited crowd which pressed about the doors and +pushed into the lobby of the club itself, and was driven back by +watchmen, in order to witness the spectacle of the season, the scene +which presented itself was one of wild disorder. + +A great assemblage of pretentious and grotesque figures, who for the +most part could do little else to assume foreign and cast-off native +characters, strutted, stalked, shambled, stamped, bawled, growled, and +squeaked amidst a chorus of loud remarks, shouts of laughter, and roars +of derision. Communication between all save the initiated was next to +impossible. + +Lady Bell and Captain Fane lost themselves, and what was worse, could +not find each other, incontinently, and in spite of the magnet which +each formed for the other, and the conclusive test which each believed +he or she could apply to the other. + +“This is the very paradise of fools,” thought the not very tolerant +sailor, as he elbowed his way along, and doggedly resisted the audacious +attack on his notice made in very wantonness, or on mistaken premises. + +“No, I won’t ogle that intolerable shepherdess, Lady Bell never +perpetrated such a crook. + +“If Columbus keep raking me with his glass, as if I sailed in command of +his ship’s consort, I’ll be tempted to give him a knock on the head with +his own telescope. He sail a carvel or discover new lands! He is only +fit for the tub of that Diogenes which Dick Turpin has kicked over! + +“What a game for grown men and women! All the rank, wealth, and +intelligence of England engaged in it, as the news prints will have it +to-morrow. + +“Where on earth can Lady Bell be? She is not that fair one with the +locks of gold—borrowed locks clearly—over her own dark hair. No, this +lady is several inches too tall, and she walks like a stork, instead of +footing it like a fairy. + +“Crossing the line is a joke to this. The Jack Tars have more point in +their gambols. Avast! Yonder goes Neptune with his trident, summoned by +my words from the vasty deep. But I’ll have none of him. I have enough +of him on his own element, to be let off from the contact here. + +“Lady Bell is not walking in the minuet. What does she mean by thus +giving me the slip? How do I know what harm she may be running into in +the confounded freedom of this masquerade? All the rage is for +adventures, pleasant or unpleasant. I suppose every pretty woman will be +mortally disappointed if she do not have her share. Oh heavens! the +folly of women, and oh heavens! the folly of men—of a pretended Timon in +a shabby blue jacket for thinking to mend them.” + +But Captain Fane was not there in a blue jacket, shabby or otherwise, +else he might not have sought far and wide in vain. He had, between +ignorance and a spice of spite at Lady Bell, because she would not +afford him a clue to her character for the evening, taken no more +distinctive disguise than one of the abounding black dominoes or loose +cloaks, of which there were scores in the room, worn by lazy, shy, or +proud men and women, many of the former of much the same height as +Captain Fane. + +After all the domino, as proved by continental patronage, and by its +invariable use on the part of those who had covert designs to prosecute +at this or any other masquerade, was the one sufficient and safe +disguise in which men and women could glide here and there, and appear +and disappear miraculously in the crowd. + +But wearers of dominoes who wished to be known, must wait for the late +hour when every guest was to remove his or her mask, and step forth in +proper identity. + +Captain Fane’s temper was not his strong point, and his disposition was +not accommodating. He was too ruffled and piqued to receive any comfort +from the prospect of a humiliating confession of defeat, and a petition +for mercy. + +In the meantime, if her vexed partner could have known it, poor Lady +Bell was not enjoying this masquerade, to which she had looked forward +with keen, girlish zest and a softer interest. She had the sore +humiliation—granted it was by her own fault—to be recognised by a +multitude of her set, of Mrs. Lascelles’ friends and of Lady Bell’s +danglers, and yet to remain unrecognised by the one man whose +recognition she craved. + +Lady Bell had dressed herself as a gipsy fortune-teller, in a remarkably +respectable rustic gown—for a gipsy, in the authentic red cloak and +kerchief over her head, with a pack of incorrectly clean cards. But, +unfortunately, fortune-telling, though not so plentiful as blackberries +or dominoes, abounded to the degree that Captain Fane, himself +undistinguished, passed at a little distance without eliciting a spark +of the magnetic influence, the very woman who was swaying him in spite +of his reason, and almost of his conscience, who was filling him with a +strong, untrained heart’s concentrated love, which in contrast with the +calculating spent loves of the jaded hearts around, was fit to work like +madness in the brain. + +Lady Bell was greatly chagrined, half angry with Captain Fane for being +horribly, unaccountably stupid, half doubtful, with a pang, if he who +continued hidden from her, as she from him, was really in the room. +Something might have happened, a sudden appointment to a ship, an +accident—his being stopped, and wounded as well as robbed, on his way to +the ball—or a malicious story heard to her discredit, for he was precise +in his notions, and stern in upholding them, as she knew from her +experience at the water-party. + +Sailors had two standing-points from which they regarded women. The one +standing-point was that of coarser salt-water Lovelaces and Lotharios, +to whom no woman was sacred, and who trusted none. The other was that of +Turks, who locked up their women in western harems, and exacted from the +women the meekest domesticity. + +Harry Fane was no profligate Lovelace, Lady Bell was sure; but she was +not equally certain that he might not develop into a rigid, caustic +captain of his own household. + +Lady Bell had murmured loudly at the moroseness of poor old Squire +Trevor, when she, as a silly child, had tried his patience; should she +not be a fool indeed to put herself, as a woman, in the power of another +master? + +And this would not be a fine gentleman who might neglect and be +unfaithful to her, and still be suave and tolerant to her faults, having +consideration of his own grievous sins. + +This would be another sour and savage man, rendered a hundred times more +formidable in his prime by the weapons which her love and his would put +into his hands to pierce both their hearts. + +Yet she was old and wise enough to know that infinitely worse might +befall her. What a poor chance there was for women of her class and +culture in life! Humbler women might be more stolid, less alive to their +injuries, abler to keep their own. + +These were sad reflections to qualify the noisy nonsense of a +masquerade. Lady Bell was very sorry for herself, and soon grew weary of +the amusement. She discovered that it was rarely dependent on the lively +cleverness which could enter into the spirit of the game and play it out +well. The ball was kept up rather by the impudence and effrontery which +could break through every restraint, and could administer and endorse, +without flinching, the rudest rebuffs. + +The Troubadours, King Alfreds, and Friar Tucks, the Abbesses, Beggar +Girls, and Sapphos, aimed more frequently at outraging than at +expressing their _rôles_. It was regarded as the best joke when the +Troubadour flung away his guitar, King Alfred hobnobbed with Captain +Macheath, and Friar Tuck swam, sauntered, and sniffed at a vinaigrette. +In like manner fair applause was won by the Abbess entering into an open +flirtation with a soldier of fortune; by the Beggar Girl complaining +peevishly of the liberties taken by a courtier, who had trodden on her +beggar’s trappings; and by Sappho, while oppressed with a “snivelling +cold,” and beset by a most pronounced Devonshire dialect, indulging in +entirely prosaic and matter-of-fact remarks. + +No doubt, the abuse of the characters adopted, was a great deal more +easily attained than the use would have been, and, making allowance for +the average limits of human intellect, the people were wise in their +generation. But the effect was disappointing to an enthusiastic young +Lady Bell. + +The affair did not stop at a brilliant burlesque—it went as far as an +earlier screaming farce. + +Lady Bell began to grow timid and nervous as the mirth grew faster and +more furious. She clung to the support of any acquaintance such as Mrs. +Lascelles—who, the wish being father to the thought, possibly, +personated the widow loved by Sir Roger de Coverley—in passing through +the heaving, changing groups. + +Captain Fane was wrong in one suspicion: Lady Bell did not seek +adventures. On the contrary, when she saw the bold licence to which they +tended, she shrank back from them; she had very soon ceased to play the +rustic fortune-teller, as she had begun to play it with innocent spirit +and pains. She was ashamed of thinking of acting where hardly any one +else acted. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + + THE “COMMON DOMINO.” + + +Lady Bell continued, however, to pay the penalty for the choice of a +character, by being accosted on the part of numerous Indian conjurers, +sailors, and Roman emperors, all uniting in the demand that she should +tell them their fortunes. Neither was the demand made in formal +histrionic phrase, but in free and easy modern language, spoken by +voices teasingly familiar to her. + +But Lady Bell was so bewildered and vexed because all her boasted +penetration had failed her, that not having succeeded in detecting the +one, she would not take the trouble to identify the many. She guessed +that some of these masquers were Sir George Waring, Lord Boscobel, +Colonel Selby; but she did not care to come to a decision. What was it +to her who they were? + +The gentlemen were not so indifferent or irresolute about the secret of +the graceful little fortune-teller. Fine gentlemen though they were, and +at their own ball, they were importunate and aggressive, until their +advances became irksome and offensive to Lady Bell. She grew sick of +them, and the whole riotous company, and wished herself with all her +heart well out of it—out of town—back to her peaceful Summerhill, with +her calm, beneficent Mrs. Sundon. + +Lady Bell absolutely declined doing any more palmistry, and put off the +pressing claimants on her powers with as much determination as she could +summon to her aid on the spur of the moment. + +“No, no, sirs, the stars are not in the ascendant,” she said, with a +very sincere sigh, “the cards won’t shuffle. You must go to another +fortune-teller.” + +“To no other, most unpropitious Sybil,” asserted one voice. + +“Let me shuffle your cards,” suggested another, offering to take the +tools of Lady Bell’s trade for the night out of her hands. + +“I’ll cross your hand with gold, my girl,” said a third, and at the same +time presumed to seize Lady Bell’s disengaged hand. + +Lady Bell was roused to a more energetic renunciation of her character. + +“I won’t be bribed. See here!” she cried. + +And raising the spread-out pack of cards, she scattered them far and +near. + +Her action was partly misunderstood, and some of her followers stopped +to pick up the cards, as Lady Bell had hoped they would. She moved on +directly, but in the little scuffle she had already been separated from +her party. For the moment the crowd had closed in between them, and Lady +Bell found herself alone in her disguise, exposed to rougher horse-play. + +Any masquer who saw a woman alone in the crowd, might regard her, +charitably, in Captain Fane’s strain, as a lady looking out for +adventures. Whether so looking out, or innocent of such an intention, +the mere fact of her having foolishly exposed herself, constituted her +good game for the buffoonery of the masquerade. + +Yet Lady Bell’s trepidation did not amount to panic, and she assured +herself that it was silly, for she had simply to take off her mask, and +show that she was Lady Bell Trevor, in order to find friends, and be +freed from molestation. Any woman who had ever sustained a serious +misadventure at a masquerade, like most women who sustained +misadventures in a wider sphere—the world, had only been too willing to +undergo the infliction, or had yielded to a private reason for risking +it, and either way had themselves to thank for their humiliation. + +But Lady Bell was certainly unwilling to plead helplessness, crave pity, +and virtually acknowledge that her natural dignity did not stand her in +good stead. Moreover, the acknowledgment ought not to be required of +her; for already some who knew her, as she was convinced, though it was +their present cue to conceal their knowledge, were there. Sir George +Waring and Colonel Selby, the first as Sir Roger de Coverley, the second +as the Lord Chancellor of England, had come up with her, holding some of +her cards in their hands. + +Lady Bell was tired, shaken. She could think of no other resource than +that of flying from her persecutors with as much speed as she could +command, or the crowd would allow. While she hurried along she held down +her head, and tried not to listen to besieging addresses, suggesting in +her attitude something of the aspect of Ferdinand seeking vainly to +shake off Ariel’s tricksy sprites; notwithstanding that Lady Bell’s foes +were of more solid substance. + +The group arrested the attention of a domino, who at once made for it, +catching up by chance as he did so one of the fortune-teller’s cards +which dropped from a gentleman’s hand. While he joined in the pursuit, +which was attracting notice, he heard bets laid on the race that caused +his blood to boil, little as bets meant at a time when men wagered on +drops running down a window-pane, on an old woman’s hobbling, or on the +hours that a sick man might live. + +The prize might be nothing to Captain Fane, for it was possibly a case +of mistaken identity where he was concerned; and even if he were in the +right, he was ignorant and jealous of Lady Bell’s reason for keeping +herself hidden from him, as it seemed. + +It might very well be that she would resent his interference. He could +not help remembering, though she had sought to atone for it, how she had +treated his opposition at the water-party. + +He might reap no thanks, only anger and disgust as the result of his +officiousness. But for her sake he would venture all. + +He scrawled with his pencil on the card which he had appropriated. “Do +you wish to get away and go home without waiting for the unmasking? I +shall put you into a chair—say yes, and I shall be satisfied that I am +right.” + +He pushed forward in advance of the others and thrust the card into Lady +Bell’s hand. + +She glanced mechanically at the writing, with which she was not +sufficiently acquainted for it to show the writer. But the electric +shock was given at last, she had not the slightest fear of trusting +herself with that domino. “Oh yes!” she drew a long sigh of relief and +joy, standing still and speaking in her natural tones. + +“A swindle, a cheat, madam,” shouted the wildest of her train; “you +decline to read our fortunes, and you answer the first question put to +you by an interloper.” + +“Gentlemen,” interposed the domino, speaking in cold tones of +indisputable authority and sober reason, “the lady is fatigued with the +foolery, and wishes to go home. I suppose you do not interfere with the +inclinations of your guests?” + +The gentlemen looked at each other and paused discomfited. + +“Sold, by Jove!” + +“I wish you joy, Sir George, of your successful rival.” + +“Devil take him, who can he be? never heard that my lady had any +troublesome appendage—country cousin, parson in disguise, former husband +come alive again, recent husband come to light.” + +Before the exclamations burst forth, the domino was leading the +fortune-teller through the crowd, compelling a passage for her, to the +door of the room, out into the vestibule, and down the stairs, at the +foot of which they stopped, and he bade a watchman call a chair. + +Then Lady Bell took off her mask, and he pulled off his, and each smiled +forgiving and forgiven in the face of the other, while the servants and +their company thought the two a proper couple (though Harry was no +Adonis), and on plain enough terms. + +But the lady and gentleman were not bent on one of the clandestine +expeditions and frantic escapades in which masquerades frequently ended, +since they would not set about it barefaced. Therefore the pair being +manifestly honest, were left to themselves, unmolested by the kind souls +that liked to look on them at a little distance. For anything more Lady +Bell and Captain Fane were deficient to the apprehension of their more +or less debased fellow-creatures in what are to them essential elements +of thrilling interest—crime and shame. + +“I am so glad to get out of it—I shall never wish to go to a masquerade +again. But could you find no better disguise than a common domino?” Lady +Bell began to recover herself, and to pout the least in the world. +“There were scores of dominoes like this,” she hinted regretfully, +putting a little finger shyly on a fold of the objectionable domino. + +“Could my Lady Bell not dress up herself more fitly than in the cloak of +a gipsy fortune-teller, when there were crowns and sceptres, wands and +wings, in the room?” the gentleman reproached his partner with delirious +fervour, softly grasping a corner of the maligned cloak. + +“I saw no acting,” cried Lady Bell in a flurry, to render the +conversation less personal. “A strolling troop, in a barn, would have +managed infinitely better. This was all fudge and lampooning. I did not +ask for true acting, but I expected something nearer to it from persons +of refinement and education. I am going to have the real thing +to-morrow.” + +“Tell me where, Lady Bell,” he solicited directly. + +“I am going to the play, sir, the veritable play; no wonder everybody +rushes to Covent Garden and Drury Lane; though some pretend that there +are private theatricals worth listening to, I should feel inclined to +doubt it, after to-night. I am to have a box in company with Miss +Greathead of Guy’s Cliff, who knows Mrs. Siddons—she is taking the +Londoners’ hearts by storm, after they nearly broke her heart years +ago.” + +“How do you know that?” he asked for the mere sake of hearing her speak +and detaining her a moment longer. + +“Oh, I know Mrs. Siddons finely,” she sparkled back upon him, enjoying +what she imagined to be his curiosity, “and perhaps some day,” she +lowered her voice inadvertently and the tell-tale colour leapt up in her +cheeks, “I shall tell you how she and I came to be personal friends. You +have never seen her? Then you have never seen such a genius on the +boards. Miss Yates is nothing to her; she eclipses Mr. Garrick himself.” + +He was not caring for geniuses on the boards at that moment, however +much he might care for them at another. What were the stage and its +stars to Harry Fane, when Lady Bell had availed herself of his +assistance, had preferred his protection to that of any man of her set +at the masquerade, and when the words, “Some day I shall tell you how +she and I came to be personal friends,” were ringing sweetly in his +ears? + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + + ROMEO AND JULIET ON THE STAGE, AND IN + LADY BELL TREVOR AND MISS GREATHEAD’S BOX. + + +Harry Fane found it easier to join Lady Bell in her box with Miss +Greathead at Covent Garden than at the masquerade ball. Notwithstanding +that, the tide which had turned and was bearing the great actress on to +fortune, was so full in its rush, that the crowd at White’s was nothing +to the jammed mass filling to suffocation the huge theatre. + +In the private box Miss Greathead, the other “Lady of Quality,” was +considerate and generous. + +She had been telling Lady Bell that she remembered when Miss Kemble came +to Miss Greathead’s mother’s house in the capacity of a waiting +gentlewoman. She had struck everybody by her commanding beauty and her +magnificent reading, and she had secured the friendship of each member +of the family, so that though she soon quitted Guy’s Cliff to be married +to her rejected lover, and to return to the boards—her true sphere—her +friends continued to watch her struggles and her progress with interest +and rejoicing. So long as she and they lived, Sarah Siddons would be +welcome among the Greatheads. + +Miss Greathead brought her story to a close abruptly, and made room for +the young officer in naval uniform. + +He looked a quiet, reserved, brave man, rather than a crowing, bullying +cock of fashion. At the same time he had been indefatigable in scaling +banisters and leaping partitions in order to reach the door of Lady Bell +Trevor and Miss Greathead’s box. He deserved the seat which he had won +next Lady Bell, though, poor fellow, he might not fill it long—and it +might be to his loss that he filled it at all. + +Miss Greathead in her woman’s heart, while she counselled expediency and +condemned imprudence with the rest of the quality, guessed what sitting +together for an hour or two was to a couple between whom there might +soon roll the seas which divide an old world from a new, and these seas +alive with transports, frigates, squadrons, hastening to meet the tug of +war. + +The pair were young fools (Miss Greathead was shocked at Lady Bell +Trevor—the daughter of an earl, though a spendthrift earl, a jointured +widow, though her jointure was not great, while the officer by his +uniform was no more than a Captain, and was not a private “fortune,” +else he could hardly have failed to be known by name to Miss +Greathead—she could not think what Lady Bell meant by thus preparing +misery for herself and another). But what would you have? such fools +abounded, would not the world be worse if it wanted them? Mrs. Siddons +was about to play just such another fool. + +At least the sailor must fill his seat as a silent partner, for Mrs. +Siddons’ acting, and the pit which hung breathless on her words, +permitted no chatter in the boxes or elsewhere. + +The play was that of _Romeo and Juliet_.[1] + + [1] This is a double anachronism, Mrs. Siddons did not play in town + again till later, and did not play Juliet till later still. + +When Mrs. Siddons took the part of Juliet, she ventured on a new and +bold stroke in the middle of her success. Since Lady Bell, a fancy-free +childish girl, though a fugitive wife, had been stirred to weep and +smile, and hang breathless over the histories of Isabella, Mrs. +Beverley, and Euphrasia, Mrs. Siddons had risen to a much loftier range +of characters, to her mature masterpieces of Lady Macbeth, Constance, +and Queen Katherine. + +But for that very reason it appeared doubtful if she could descend from +her height of ripe majestic matronhood to the dramatist’s idea of a +single-hearted love-lorn Italian girl. Even Mrs. Siddons’ superbly +developed personal traits might turn to faults and work against her in +the attempt to personate the slender, tender daughter of the Capulets. + +But no sooner did the enchantress come before her judges and begin to +weave her spells, than the velvet eyes, with their rich lashes, the +white pillars of arms with their regal sweep, became the fond dreamy +eyes, the loving, clinging arms inspired by the soul of youthful, +radiant, all-defying passion in Juliet. + +These two—Lady Bell and Captain Fane—looked at and listened to their own +story. True, they were not of sufficiently mighty quality to belong to +great rival houses, but the couple belonged in a measure to different +classes. Lady Bell might aspire to prospects as far ahead of the naval +captain at her side, though he was born and bred in her rank, as were a +Vice-Admiral’s commission, and Westminster Abbey. + +The circumstance that the difference between Lady Bell and Captain Fane +was comparatively slight, only rendered it more cruel if it were to part +them, since it did anything save prevent the rose from smelling as +sweet. + +To sit together at such a play interpreted by so consummate an actress, +and an actor who was not immeasurably behind her, was to sit like the +guilty King and Queen of Denmark and witness their crime shadowed forth +by the players. But whereas it was the past which was held up before the +shrinking eyes of the Royal Danes, it seemed a dazzling glimpse of the +future which was vouchsafed to these lovers. + +The secret of Lady Bell and Captain Fane, so far as it had remained any +secret to them, was spoken out in Shakespeare’s words and by Siddons’ +and Kemble’s voices. The true lovers there of whom the others were but a +vivid realization, sat with heaving breasts, flushed faces, and eyes +fixed on the stage, and dared not glance at each other (did not need to +for that matter), each to understand what the other felt—save once or +twice. + +At the masqued ball in the Capulets’ house, when fortune favoured the +brave so signally as to find the daring intruder his fit partner in the +daughter of the house, in a trice, Captain Fane and Lady Bell turned +simultaneously to smile to each other and to afford the opportunity for +the whisper on his part, “That fellow was in luck—he was not long in +receiving his prize.” + +At the first suggestion of a private marriage, Captain Fane again sought +and received a look as by irresistible fascination. “Do you mark that?” +said the swift meaning glance of his eyes, before which Lady Bell’s eyes +swam and fell as they had never swum and fallen before. + +There might have been many more pairs of lovers in the great crowded +house that night, taking to themselves, and making a personal matter of +the play and its playing, thus failing to view it in a speculative and +critical light. + +But there was absolutely nobody to whom Shakespeare and the Kembles were +rant and fustian, who was moved to laugh when the players wept, or to +joke and shrug when they raved. + +There was something marvellous in the unanimity of the sympathy, in the +multitude swayed like one man by the poet and the players, till the old +Italian tragedy in its passion and its piteousness lived again. + +Women clasped their hands and prayed for mercy on the young lovers, +sobbed as Juliet drank the potion and composed herself to the +semblance—too complete—of death,—and shrieked and swooned when Romeo met +Paris at the tomb—when swords were crossed and the boy husband who +believed himself widowed in the green accomplishment of his vows, +piercing and pierced, fell for ever. + +Men drew long breaths, and swore deep oaths, as over their professional +contests, their tussles in Parliament, their meetings at Chalk Farm, +their long seats at the green board. + +We have it on recent record, that in one row in the orchestra there sat +to see Mrs. Siddons play, men whose names are not forgotten, no, nor +will be, “Reynolds, Burke, Gibbon, Sheridan, Windham, Fox.” These men +were not babies, but “the tears were seen running down their dark +faces.” + +The theatre was a power in those days, and the excitement which crossed +and suspended the excitement of gaming tables and lottery drawings, was +in the main a wholesome and saving excitement. Mrs. Siddons made a +figure in Lady Bell’s history which sounds strange nowadays. Not only +did the actress chance to interfere between the girl and imminent +destitution, an incident which might in itself be passed over like any +other fortuitous incident, but at the crisis of Lady Bell’s history, +John Kemble and Mrs. Siddons played Romeo and Juliet, before Captain +Fane and Lady Bell, and the players had much to answer for. + +A great deal which did come to pass might never have been. Human nature +partially roused might have struggled in vain with its swaddling-bands, +and sunk back into hopeless helplessness, unable to compass, within the +course of a few days, its deliverance by one bold stroke. The +opportunity once lost might never have returned. But in the very +striking of the clock _Romeo and Juliet_ was played. + +What hearts must have been stirred to their depths by the grand acting +of the grand old players! What moral revolutions must have been wrought +out, what life and death actions compelled—transforming ordinary men and +women into heroes and heroines! It would be curious if it were possible +to make such a reckoning. + +It may be said to the sceptical of such influences who have only sought +for them in the theatre of to-day, what woman shrieks and swoons in the +theatre now? what man, even, is seized with strong hysterics, as +happened once, among the throng who panted, sweated, and quivered to +leap on the stage, rush to the rescue, or be in at the death? + +We live in a hypercritical and cynical age, and are proud of the fact. +We should never have been touched by Dr. Dodd’s enunciation of +“Mesopotamia”—it is to be feared not even by George Whitfield’s +breathing forth of “amen,” neither by the sham nor by the reality. + +Besides, we are misled by visions of our ancestors taking snuff and +looking on at executions, and think that they felt very little, and that +in the wrong place. Whereas we are the very same men and women, except +that we are triply bound by certain refinements and restraints, and are +pleased to hug our bonds. + +Lady Bell had cried with the best, palpitated and quaked over Romeo and +Juliet. She had never once felt disturbed by the remembrance, as a +modern playgoer would have felt disturbed—nay, would have taken credit +for the feeling, that she had been behind the scenes with this Juliet, +had helped her to nurse her children, add up her bills, and eat her +prosaic meals. + +Lady Bell was not so carping and invidious. She was more womanly; she +was inclined to go to the opposite extreme in her reception of the play +and in the effect which it had upon her. + +“This Juliet was a sweet victim,” Miss Greathead had declared, wiping +her eyes when all was over. “But one must confess she had little more +than her deserts. How would it be with any girl in our days, who could +be as disobedient and deceitful and monstrously rash as Mistress Juliet +showed herself?” + +“Oh, Miss Greathead,” protested Lady Bell, forgetting everything in the +eagerness of her argument, “I don’t go in for the disobeying and +deceiving her parents—only they were so mad in their feud, that what +could she ever hope for from their reason or their duty? They drove her +to the climax of her disobedience and deceit, and that after she had +consented to be Romeo’s. Why, madam,” Lady Bell paused, clasped her +hands expressively, and exclaimed irrestrainably, “I should have done +the same.” + +“What! swallowed that horrid drug, and taken the doubtful +consequences—the only thing certain that she should overwhelm her father +and mother and whole kindred in a horrid waste of grief? Then, when she +did wake up in the dreadful shadowy tomb, because the first glimmer of +light proved to her that the dangerous stratagem had been in vain, and +she had lost her lover—— My dear, many a woman has to lose her lover,” +Miss Greathead broke off, and fanned herself, while a quiver passed over +her features. “Think of this American war, and the French wars, and the +Scotch rebellion, and all that they cost. But to count the world lost, +and refuse to live any longer without the one man! It was selfish and +cowardly, as well as blasphemous, for her to fall on his sword, and make +an end of it.” + +Lady Bell shivered. + +“There need not have been any use of violence,” she said, after a pause, +speaking from the prompting of her heart—“unless, indeed, it was because +the young Italian girl was too sorry for herself. A living death would +soon have killed her; and if it had not, death in life would have been +the greater tribute of the two.” + +“Lady Bell,” said Captain Fane in her ear, taking her hand and holding +it fast and tight, as they left the box and wended their slow way after +Miss Greathead, whom a friend was conducting to a coffee-house for +supper, “I have something to say to you, and you know it, while you have +not the heart to deny me the liberty of saying it. I am sure of this +much after to-night. Oh, the happiness of knowing that your heart is on +my side! What are the heaviest obstacles after that gracious +encouragement? But I must speak where we shall not be interrupted. Will +you be my love, and will you meet me on the Mall, where I shall be +walking by nine o’clock to-morrow morning, long before there will be any +company abroad?” + +Lady Bell hung her head and trembled, and would almost have drawn back, +frightened at the result which she had helped to provoke. + +“You will not be true to yourself and to me if you refuse me such an +interview,” he put it. “I shan’t detain you a moment against your will; +do you think I should, or wilfully expose you or your good name? Ah, +never; you know me better than think that. But although you have no +parents to control you, and are even independent of guardians, you are +so young, my darling, that it is such a miserable match for you.” + +“Hush, hush,” Lady Bell stopped him. “You don’t know how unworthy I +am—what a vain, pleasure-loving, headstrong creature.” + +“You shall have the best, the purest pleasure that I can procure for +you,” bragged Harry. “But all your friends will oppose a marriage +between us, especially at this time, when I may get orders any day to +sail for America. Even my friends, Sir Peter and Lady Sundon, will be +scandalized—as if their house had not proved a snare to me, and as if +they were answerable for their pirate of a kinsman snatching at the +treasure which he came across.” + +“I am my own mistress,” said Lady Bell, giving a welcome specimen of the +wilfulness of which she had spoken. “No one has any right to say +anything to me against my choice—as if I would listen!—unless my dear +Mrs. Sundon. Oh, I hope she will not think that we have been close and +sly. I have writ and told her that I thought one gentleman very +different from the rest whom I met in town, and that I imagined she +would like him. Only I made a mistake; for I fancied at first that he +would be more to her taste than mine. But, sir, I do not grant that you +have any title to hear what I write in my private correspondence with my +friend.” She made a faint attempt at playfulness. + +“Don’t you?” questioned Harry, showing that, glum as he had sometimes +been in Lady Bell’s company, his was not the faint heart which could not +win a fair lady. “What presumption I have been guilty of! I leaped to +the conclusion that there was to be no more secrets between us, and that +you would write to me myself for my consolation in our parting.” + +At that word of parting, Lady Bell came fluttering down from her proud +little perch, and nestled to him in an instant. + +“Harry,” she said, “I shall meet you to-morrow if you bid me. But take +care what you bid me to do, for I trust you entirely.” + +“God do so and more to me, if I fail you,” swore Harry Fane. + +“And don’t mind any foolish pother people make. I shall not mind it +much. Only I hope that they will not be very rude and disagreeable on +your account. Here is the coffee-house; and mind, we must behave +ourselves, unless we would have our engagement talked of all over the +town before it is fairly concluded.” + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + + THE MEETING ON THE MALL. + + +By nine o’clock next morning a young naval officer was pacing the Mall +of St. James’s under the interlaced boughs of the still leafless trees. +He formed a conspicuous figure among the porters, tradesmen’s boys, +shopwomen, and message girls—all who were then to be seen on the old +promenade, which had still its fashionable frequenters at stated hours +later in the day. + +But conspicuous or unconspicuous, there was no one whose observation was +likely to signify to the gentleman, or to the lady who, taking an early +walk, attended by her maid, might encounter him, and consent to his +attendance for the rest of the way. + +The weather, which had been boasting that spring was come a fortnight +before, had reversed its sentence—now that March was not only coursing +in the blood and in the sap of the trees, but recorded in the +calendar—and insisted that the season was no other than midwinter. A +raw, surly east wind was blowing; a grey sky was overhead; the turf of +the park looked pinched; the leaflets of the trees stood arrested—their +green turned to sickly yellow. The little birds retained their songs in +their breasts, and only chirped disconsolately in a croaking fashion +down in their throats, as they hopped from bough to bough to keep +themselves warm. + +Captain Fane, with his cocked hat pulled down to his eyebrows, looked +grave and almost grim and hard-favoured as he paced the Mall. + +Captain Fane’s patience was not tried on the occasion. He had not half +crossed the park when a little figure, guarded from the chill morning +air and from prying eyes by a furred mantle and a capuchin, came towards +him. + +The figure was followed by a faithful maid in her white cap and pattens, +walking discreetly behind. + +The lady advanced, woman fashion, as if she did not see the gentleman, +but had been enticed out by the fineness of the disagreeable morning, +and by the company on the deserted Mall. She looked over her shoulder to +speak to her maid. She tacked, as she picked her steps from side to side +of the Mall, like one of the ships in Harry Fane’s squadron when the +wind was chopping afresh every minute. The figure, with its halting, +wavering, but unmistakable progress in his direction, quickened the +gentleman’s steps in accordance with his bounding pulses, and sent him +straight as a launch to meet it. + +Captain Fane was deeply sensible of the boon granted to him; but even as +he held Lady Bell’s hand in his own, his face continued grave and +contracted with trouble and pain. The first words which he said as he +turned and walked by her side, giving, not offering his arm, were words +of warning in breaking bad news. + +“It is well that you have been as good as your word, dearest, well for +your own tender heart as for my comfort in remembrance, since our first +meeting is likely to be our last. Orders from the Admiralty were waiting +my return last night. I did not know, but it was just possible that the +_Thunderbomb_ might be put in dock to lie high and dry for months. I had +even entertained the thought—but that was before I saw you and lost my +head with my heart—ah! sweet Bell, I’ll go bail you have much to account +for—of seeking to get an appointment to another ship, lest I should be +kept hanging about long on shore. Long! The time has passed like a +summer day which is all but ended. The _Thunderbomb_ is to hold itself +in readiness to weigh anchor on or about the 15th, to sail with a +detachment of troops for Boston.” + +Lady Bell had heard him without interruption till this. “Going away—away +from me, Harry?” she cried, struck heavily by the blow, “to join the +ranks of war, and dare the stormy seas while these words we have spoken +are yet on our lips! No, no, it cannot be.” + +“My love, I would I could say no and comfort you. Guess, then, what it +must be for me to leave you,” he appealed to her. + +“Then, don’t leave me,” said Lady Bell desperately. “Oh, Harry Fane, I +have been so lonely all my life, an orphan, a loveless wife—I could not +help it; I could not love poor Mr. Trevor after he had forced me, a +persecuted child, to marry him—till I found Sunny. You need not look +disappointed. She has been the dearest, best of friends and sisters to +me; but I am frighted I have misled her. I know I would leave her for my +lover, my true husband. Will you leave me after this alone again? Cruel +Harry! Lady Sundon was right. You are a hard, stubborn man.” + +“Alas! dear, how can I help it?—I, who would give my best chance of +promotion—well-nigh my life, if—not the Admiralty, but the Powers above, +would suffer me to remain with you only three months,” he protested +passionately. “It may not be, Lady Bell—I cannot even pray for it.” + +“And yet you only half approve of this American war,” she reminded him +pertinaciously. + +“That is true,” he owned; “and more than I are in the same, or a worse +predicament. Lord Effingham has followed the example of Viscount Pitt, +in requesting leave to retire from the service; and Captain Wilson, an +Irishman, who obtained his commission by raising a hundred and thirty +men off his own estate, and who has served with the greatest credit for +sixteen years, has also laid down his sword.” + +“Then why cannot you do the same?” she implored him. + +“Because I do not see it to be my duty,” he said firmly. “I don’t +approve of every tittle of the laws and their execution. For instance, a +miserable lad of fifteen was hanged t’other day for some petty theft—it +may have been no more than the filching of a sixpence, for which they +tell me another wretched fellow swung at Tyburn; but that is not to say +that I am not to maintain the laws which are just and good in the main. +This is no time to pick holes in the services, but to build them up with +our bodies and blood, and let reformation follow in due time. For +anything else—even to be with you, it would be rank selfishness.” + +“You are too strong and wise for me,” she complained a little bitterly, +averting her head. + +“You would not have me sacrifice honour and duty,” he pressed her in his +turn, “what every true man is bound to maintain in the name of God and +his fellows, whatever else he give up? Remember the line of the song you +sang the last time I stood by the harpsichord in Cleveland Court:— + + ‘I could not love thee, dear, so well, + Loved I not honour more.’ + +Sailors, like soldiers, belong specially to their king and country. +Would you wish your sailor to stain his blue jacket?” + +“No, no, I would have you my best of men,” yielded Lady Bell, with a +great sob; “but I doubt my heart is broke, for I cannot follow you into +danger, and if—if——” + +She failed in framing the conclusion, that the man she loved, and who +had just told her his love, standing there in his flower of youth, +health, and strength, might ere long fall on the deck, slippery with +blood, never to rise again, or sink in the trough of an engulphing wave, +and be washed far beyond the ken of friend or foe. + +Lady Bell broke into piteous tears. She had been, as she said, so lonely +a young creature, constrained, in the measure, to be self-sufficing, +till she had found a friend, and then a love. + +He had taught her in the shortest space to be prouder of his love than +of all else belonging to her. She had been right willing to lay down for +him her pride of birth and beauty and a belle’s worldly expectations. +She had consented gladly to resign that belleship, to affront the great +world, and, as an anti-climax after her triumphs, to make a poor love +marriage. + +But it was all in vain. No such voluntary offering was required of her. +Her new-found love was snatched from her. Her life was emptied of its +fulness at the fullest, just when she had begun to know how rich and +rapturous life might be. “Would it have been a relief to you,” asked +Captain Fane slowly, “though I would never have consented to your facing +hardship (‘fore George, to think of my Lady Bell being exposed for +me!)—if all this had occurred months earlier, and in the interval we had +braved the cold displeasure, or the hot wrath, of friends, and were wed, +man and wife, whom no man, nothing save death, could put asunder? Would +it have made a difference if you could have gone out with me, as some of +the civil authorities, Mr. Eden and others—ay, some of the officers too, +have carried out their wives?” + +“Oh, Harry, it would have been heaven compared to this!” Lady Bell +assured him fervently. + +“What!” he cried, half with tender wonder, half covetous to have the +fond assurance repeated, “you would cross the seas, and rough it among +rough sailors on board ship, and you so young and dainty. You would +dwell among strangers, many of them hostile—some say with a good cause, +but it is too late to do aught but fight its righteousness or +unrighteousness now—and we sailors might be called on to help to take +stores up the country, while we were dependent on the fidelity of our +barbarous allies, the Indians. You were never in a foreign country. You +never even tried living on board ship.” + +“Never, never,” corroborated Lady Bell, so heartily, that there was +something like cheerfulness in her tone. “But I should be with you, and +what would I mind besides? Do you think I am a coward, sir, or a peevish +woman, fit for nothing but to miss my comforts, and make a moan? Don’t +call the sailors rough, when you are a sailor.” + +“Then I am delivered from a very great temptation,” admitted Harry Fane +honestly. + +“Don’t return thanks for it,” she forbade him quickly, “when it is my +loss. Oh, Harry! I am yours—yours in our hearts; but I would I were +yours so that no man could contradict it, anyhow or anywhere,” sighed +Lady Bell, clinging to him with a creeping quailing foretaste of all the +evils which might be wrought by distance, time, the remonstrances of +friends, the misrepresentations of enemies. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + + TO TIE OR NOT TO TIE THE KNOT? + + +“Take care, Lady Bell!” exclaimed Harry, in rising agitation, “lest I’m +only delivered from one temptation to be plunged into another.” + +“Ah! temptations have no power for you,” proclaimed Lady Bell, with a +mixture of pride and sorrow; “you are as firm as a rock, and as +unyielding when you think you are in the right.” + +“Don’t be too sure,” said Captain Fane, and she saw that he could be +nervous with all his firmness. “I have let you say how you will want me, +because it has been marrow to my bones and joy to my heart, Bell, when +God knows I am anxious and sad enough. But at least you do not resign me +to the importunities of any rival, unless it be to the image of +Britannia herself,” he suggested, with an effort at a jest and a smile, +“flourishing, as our general figurehead, and to the death which she may +bear in her hand. Think what I must feel to leave you, exposed to the +cunning wiles of all the beaux and bucks and great matches who hunt +women as men hunt game. These men play with women, and have no +remorse—for not believing in a God in heaven, they do not believe in a +man or woman on earth. They seek to buy women, and sooner than be foiled +in the base barter which they propose, and be forced to confess their +titles, rent-rolls, money-bags, even their pretty persons, disparaged, +they will try to get the better of women by cruel arts. Such men betray +women infernally.” + +He had worked himself up till he was pouring forth a torrent of rage, +hatred, and apprehension. Cold as the morning was, he had to wipe his +forehead. + +“Why, Harry!” remonstrated Lady Bell, startled, but not altogether +offended by his jealous fury, not unwilling to be roused from the +dejection into which she was sinking, and to be diverted for a moment +from the gloomy prospect before her. + +There was no question of the gloom near at hand, and to last for many a +day. Come what liked in the future, Harry Fane was going, would go to +join his ship in the first place, and the war in the second. He might be +subjected to work, weariness, and privation, but he had action and +change for his portion. As for her, she must abide in her place forlorn, +with the brightness passed from the sky, and the zest gone out of the +feast. The “Lubin” of the song was indeed on the eve of departure, of +long uncertain tarrying, perhaps till his love’s bloom was faded, her +heart withered and dry. Lady Bell had asked once in very idleness and +restlessness, that movement, passion, even, in its pangs, might ruffle +the still waters of her heart. They were ruffled with a vengeance, +lashed into a piteous storm, to heave and swell for many a day, ere they +settled down again in peace. + +Knowing what was hanging over her, Lady Bell was fain to forget the +knowledge for a moment, in the rousing consideration that Captain Fane, +in spite of her frank confession, was half beside himself with jealousy. + +She did not altogether disapprove of this state of matters, for was it +not evidence of how well the self-controlled sailor loved her? + +She was a little frightened at the strength of his passion, +nevertheless. Extravagantly as she herself had loved him, she did not +know him fully and closely, after all. One of the charms of her love was +its mystery. + +But Lady Bell thought Harry Fane too severe in his strictures, and +certainly needing to be pulled up and taken to task. Aching as her heart +was, she tried to make believe for a brief space that the ache was not +there, and to do her part in enlightening her lover. + +She began to pout with her white face and her tearful eyes. + +“Would I forget you in your absence, Harry? Could you ever believe that? +What effect would all the wicked stratagems of the finest gentlemen have +on me?” + +“How can I tell?” he answered gloomily. “I found a whole hornet’s nest +buzzing round you when I met you first, and again at the masquerade, and +you did not seem able to put them down.” + +“Why should I put them down? They are entitled to live as well as the +rest of us, even though a busy fellow of a bee looks down upon them as +drones or butterflies; indeed they are rather that than hornets. They +have never done me harm, and they have squired and amused me many a day; +you ought to be more generous to them, sir, and to learn to keep a civil +tongue in your head.” + +“We have no time for quarrelling,” cried Harry, “you may teach me better +manners one day, if we are spared and restored to each other, and you +are still willing to undertake the office. But I could not profit by the +best of lessons, and I submit that it would be taking me altogether at a +disadvantage to begin when I am just about to bid you farewell.” + +“Not yet! not yet!” besought Lady Bell, dislodged from her poor little +temporary cranny of arch resistance and coquettish teasing, and +stretched anew, like another Andromeda, on a sheer precipice, over a sea +of misery, until she fell back into her lamentation. “If we had but +understood each other faster, and been married within these few +weeks—sailors and soldiers must woo and wed in haste—before these +terrible sailing orders arrived! Then I could have sailed with you; I +should not have been frighted, though we had encountered the enemy. I +could have kept quiet below, with you on deck to run to when the guns +ceased firing. I might have proved how little I cared for any other man +by following you all over the world.” + +“You can prove it, dear,” declared Harry Fane, hoarse with eagerness, +taking her at her word, giving the reins to his passion, and smothering +and trampling down every doubt and scruple. “Let us be married before I +go, and although I cannot take you with me, I may send for you to my +station. Some one of my old messmates and friends will be glad to do as +he would be done by, and bring you out to me in his ship.” + +Lady Bell was astounded; she had been utterly unprepared for this +catching up of her speech, heartfelt though it was. + +Harry Fane rushed on, overwhelming her with his special pleading. + +“That and that alone would reassure my mind, which is on the rack for +you, exposed on a pinnacle as you are. Don’t be vexed with me when I say +it, but you are a beautiful woman of rank, very young, greatly admired, +as you well may be, moving in gay worldly circles, which unsettle even a +man’s head, and throw dust in his eyes. You have not a near relation +whose right it would be to control and guide you, only such thoughtless, +irresponsible guardians as even my good cousin! Oh! my love, how shall I +leave you thus? for God knows how long,” he groaned in anguish, “these +six—twelve years. This horrid war has long been hanging over us. Our +American brethren are brave and resolute as we are; the strife may last +while mother country and colony hold out. How can I trust your constancy +exposed to such a test, assailed as it will be when I am gone, and you a +young woman, and therefore weak, without blame or shame to you?” + +“I understand,” acknowledged Lady Bell piteously. “I am not angry with +you for distrusting me—how can I be, when I remember how weak I was once +before? How wrong as well as weak, I know by my love for you. I was +unfair to myself and to another. Do I not shrink from looking you and +every one in the face when I think of my marriage? Do I not blush for +the name I bear, because of the reason for bearing it?—that I let myself +be sold as a chattel or a slave, rather than die free—and I was not a +loyal slave, Harry, never think it; I revolted and fled, like many +another slave.” + +He was hardly listening to her, he was so dead set on over-persuading +her and himself that he might make her his, and that by doing so, he +would save her. + +“Then do not risk danger again, you are not so much older—only a tender +girl of eighteen—widow though you are. I may not even be able to reach +you with the poor stay of letters when all your friends will be against +me. I cannot wonder and complain, but I must think of myself and my +love, and of you and yours, for you love me, and me only, Lady Bell, +your lips have sworn it now, over and over.” + +“Ay, and I swear it again,” averred Lady Bell, with fond pride. + +“No other man will ever be to you what I can be. I will say more, +cross-grained sinner as I am, I honestly believe that I shall raise you, +Bell, by your love, as you will raise me by mine. Are not true lovers +made for helpmeets as well as mates? And, although I have no cause for +boasting, less at this moment perhaps than at any other, still, do you +not love me, darling, because you think me honest, though plain, earnest +if harsh, a little wiser in my blundering, a little more bent on truth +and righteousness in my faultiness, than the ruck of those heartless +triflers and blasphemous renouncers of all obligations around you?” + +“Have I not called you the best of men?” boasted Lady Bell, with an +immensity of faith which might have staggered him and opened his eyes. +But he only shut them harder, while he modestly declined the innocent +hyperbole. + +“Oh, no, a prodigiously erring fellow, and nearly mad at this moment, I +suspect. But we should walk through life hand in hand, love, and ask to +rise to the best that nature and grace could make us. For that end we +should seek to be reverent and dutiful, and to turn our backs on +vanities, follies, and worse. It is not wrong to make this end so sure, +that if we live it cannot be baulked, and that no one can ever more come +between us to beguile us of our faith in God and each other.” + +“If I could only claim you as my wife,” he argued unweariedly, “I should +have no fear to leave you thus solemnly bound to me—thus able by +uttering one word to dismiss all suitors, or to consign them to the +tender mercies of a man whom you could then call from the ends of the +earth—too happy to come, as I came to you at the masquerade—to give you +protection. My name alone, when you choose to take it, and replace by it +the name which you tell me, hanging your head (I cannot bear to have my +love hang her head), it is no pleasure or pride for you to wear, would +protect you.” + +“Ah! Harry, shall I ever wear your dear name?” + +“If you will, Lady Bell; and I venture to affirm that it will shelter +you as the name of the husband of your own free choice. In the mean time +I shall be doing my best to make my name honourable for you. But ah, +Bell, grant me my reward now, during the few short hours which we are +yet to spend together—while it is in your power to grant it, since it is +doubtful whether I shall ever return to claim it.” + +“Come back quick, Harry, and you may blame me as you will, I shall be +too happy to be blamed by you, and to do whatever you desire,” promised +Lady Bell. + +“Heaven forgive my conceit, it was my very wonder and delight, which +caused me to find fault or fret at every small mote in my sun. But I +shall not contradict or plague you more, very likely you will soon have +seen the last of a lumpish, captious fellow, whose greatest merit that I +can see is, that he no sooner knew you than he cast his quips and +cranks, as a misanthropic sailor, to the winds, and loved you with his +whole heart and soul.” + +“Oh, heavens! seen the last, contradict—plague! Harry, while you profess +to love me, how can you speak so unkind?” + + + + + CHAPTER XXI. + + ISLINGTON CHURCH EARLY ONE MARCH MORNING. + + +Harry Fane was convinced of all that he had said—to the extremity of the +situation which appeared to justify a violent alternative as the only +refuge from their trouble. Naturally he succeeded in persuading Lady +Bell, while he was not even guilty of deliberately playing upon her +feelings. He was tortured with having the cup snatched from his +lips—with doubt and dread, and he groaned out his torture audibly, until +Lady Bell was brought to enter but a faltering futile objection to his +desperate project. + +“How can we get married so soon, nobody knowing, your cousin away, and +not a preparation made?” + +Nothing more easy, as the records of the generation showed, and as Lady +Bell’s own recollection might have told her. + +Even when a public marriage would be attended with difficulties, a +private marriage could be resorted to, and had been resorted to, more +than once already by officers hastily bound for America. These private +marriages were, according to convenience, announced shortly after the +event, or allowed gradually to filter out in suspicious rumours, till +the secret was no secret, by the time it was finally disclosed. + +Certainly Lady Bab Yelverton, the only child of the Earl of Suffolk, +whose runaway match had been much talked of this season, had brought +private marriages somewhat into disgrace. + +But then Lady Bab, by the way a mere chit of a girl, two years younger +than Lady Bell, had defied parental authority in the most daring and +glaring manner; Lady Bab had gone off from her father and mother’s house +with Lieutenant Gould, just returned from being wounded in America, to +be worse wounded by Cupid or Plutus at home. Lord Suffolk had threatened +his daughter with his curse, and the cutting her off with a shilling. + +Lady Bab’s gross filial undutifulness was regarded as even more +reprehensible than the Duchess of Leinster’s disregard for maternal +obligations. The duchess, who was the widowed mother of seventeen +children, as well as “the proudest, most expensive woman in town,” had +thought fit to marry her eldest son’s tutor. + +But Lady Bell had no father to curse her, and cut her off with a +shilling, and in place of seventeen chicks did not possess one whose +interest could be affected by the acquisition of a stepfather. If Lady +Bell chose to be very imprudent, she was still at liberty to please +herself. There was only her friend, Mrs. Sundon, whom Lady Bell was +bound to consult, and, fortunately or unfortunately, Mrs. Sundon was too +far away in the emergency to be consulted in time. + +Captain Fane was his own master, save when he was with his squadron. He +had fewer surviving relatives than Lady Bell owned. + +Why then should there be any privacy thought of in the matter? + +Because, although there were no near relations, there were many friends, +if there was no fortune on either side to be thrown away, there were +sufficient prospects to be sacrificed, and penalties to be incurred. +Lady Bell had been so much the rage, been believed to have the refusing +of such excellent offers, that a host of influential people, if they +knew the reckless step which she proposed to take, would rush in—all the +faster, that it was no particular business of theirs—to try if they +could not prevent the shocking disaster of an attractive young woman of +rank committing an unequal love marriage. + +Even the Sundons, who had looked on and promoted the intimacy between +the pair, would, as Captain Fane foresaw, take blame to themselves when +it was too late to oppose the grand conclusion of the intimacy. + +Lady Bell for herself, and Captain Fane for her, had a natural dislike +to the exclamations, the expostulations, and the nine days’ wonder which +they must provoke. + +Lady Bell would have to sustain the scorn, to support much that was +painful in her new position, all alone, as if she were still a widow, +should she marry Captain Fane publicly, and should he join his ship +immediately and sail on a long voyage with sea-fights in the distance. + +On the other hand, Lady Bell and Captain Fane might marry as many of +their compeers married, secretly, keep their own counsel, and none be +any the wiser, till the gentleman returned to make known the marriage +and claim his wife. + +No doubt that was the line of argument followed and found satisfactory +long ago by men and women, honourable otherwise, who allowed themselves +to become involved in the compromises, the concealments, the double +dealings, and the acted lies of private marriages, for which the +principals were not condemned by their contemporaries. + +In justice alike to our progenitors and to ourselves, we crave leave to +remember, that just as our grandfathers and grandmothers managed to +combine in their portly and stately persons, along with a foreground of +magnificence and elegance, a background of slipshodness and +sluttishness, so, even where their virtues were admirable, still their +manly morals were laxer, and their womanly manners less delicate, than +the morals and manners of the present generation. + +There was one obstacle to a private marriage in Lady Bell’s case, which +nearly compelled the couple to brave public clamour and indignation. +Lady Bell was a minor. Captain Fane, in despair at this difficulty, +hurried like a madman, braving all imputations, to the most notorious +gaming-houses in town where Squire Godwin’s whereabouts might be +discovered. + +The gallant Captain proposed, failing every other resource, to make a +forlorn appeal to Lady Bell’s nearest relations. + +The gentleman was luckier than he deserved, he stumbled on the very man +he sought, who was in London unknown to Lady Bell, and unencountered by +her. + +Captain Fane and Squire Godwin had an interview, during which the former +succeeded in coming to an arrangement with the latter, but by what +representation and inducement, by what descent to lower depths on the +part of the ruined gentleman, and by what ill-bestowal of a portion of +Harry Fane’s last prize-money, never transpired. The transaction was not +likely to be reported by Mr. Godwin, neither was it one on which Harry +Fane would care to look back. + +Captain Fane, however, took the precaution of introducing Squire Godwin +for a few moments to the Sundons’ house in Cleveland Court. + +Lady Bell met her uncle for the first time since her marriage to Squire +Trevor. She could not help regarding Squire Godwin as a bird of evil +omen. His appearance on the scene, like a malignant spectre at the +critical juncture, was a shock to Lady Bell, and smote her, while it +lasted, with blank confusion and consternation. + +But Mr. Godwin’s stay was short, since the master of the house was kept +in the dark as to the origin of a visit which he did not relish, and for +bringing about which he did not thank Captain Fane. + +Sir Peter was ready to shake himself up and put a stop to the intrusion, +while he prevented any attempt which it might imply of the resumption of +authority by Squire Godwin over his niece, Lady Bell Trevor, Sir Peter’s +honoured guest. + +Mr. Godwin did not wait to be dismissed, he took his leave, giving Lady +Bell, in her agitation, a dim impression that while his air was as +distinguished as ever, in the studied carelessness—of which the study +was so perfect, that it became invisible—and his dress as +irreproachable, every line in his handsome person was drawn more deeply +and sharply. Crows’ toes and furrows had multiplied incalculably, till +the wrinkles of premature old age were shrivelling and wizening his +face. The once noble field was all covered over with cramped, +contracted, ugly hand-writing. + +Lady Bell could not so much as rally breath and courage to inquire for +her Aunt Die. She was so simple and ignorant, that she did not even +guess what had brought her lover into strange contact and alliance with +Squire Godwin, or how the latter came by the knowledge, the merest +whisper of which was sufficient to cause her to leap from her chair, for +Mr. Godwin contrived in his brief greetings to say one or two pertinent +words aside to her. + +The Squire addressed Lady Bell Trevor with a little more consideration +than he had been wont to bestow on Lady Bell Etheredge, but there +remained the echo of the old contempt in the tone of his speech. + +“So you think to contract a second marriage, madam; well, matrimony is +honourable, though I have not tried it on my own account. I am sorry +that I cannot say much for the wisdom of the step in this instance, but +I do not presume to advise, far less to interfere. It says much for the +happiness of the last knot (eh! my Lady Bell?) that you are so keen to +tie another.” + +The one difficulty overcome, the remainder of the scheme was even +exceptionally practicable, and circumstances like cards played +themselves, as it were, in Captain Fane’s and Lady Bell’s hand. + +A letter arrived from Lady Sundon to inform Sir Peter in particular and +“all friends who were interested,” that her boy was in a fair way of +recovery, but still called for not less than a month’s nursing from her +and Lyddy. + +In the delay, Sir Peter, who was miserable, left in town with only Nancy +of all his family, and who had got all that he could expect from the +opinion of the medical men, resolved to break up his establishment in +London for the season, return to Sundon Green, and await his wife there. + +Thus the best pretext was afforded gratis to Lady Bell for sincerely +assuring Sir Peter, with grateful mention of his hospitality, that he +need not have any hesitation on her account. Her visit had already +extended beyond its proposed limits. Mrs. Sundon was anxious for Lady +Bell’s return. Lady Bell herself was beginning to long to be out of the +racket which had made a fine change, but which she did not affect for a +continuance, and to be at home again and settled down quietly at +Summerhill. + +But first Lady Bell had to spend a few days at the village of Islington, +with her old nurse at Lady Lucie Penruddock’s. + +The nurse’s accommodation was so scanty, that Lady Bell could not take +her maid. Lady Bell would come back to Cleveland Court to fetch the +servant, when Sir Peter kindly arranged to send his old coachman to be +their escort to Lumley, before the Sundons themselves went into the +country. + +Nothing could be more proper and obliging. In the meantime, Captain Fane +had taken leave of his friends in town, and started for Portsmouth, but +he journeyed by a roundabout road, and halted on the way. + +Lady Bell did think that fate had been against her, when she was +constrained to accomplish a second marriage, shorn like the first of all +state and splendour. But there was no help for it. + +In the parish church of Islington, attended by her nurse, and given away +by a friend of the nurse’s, with the clerk and the pew-opener to serve +as additional witnesses, early one stormy March morning, Lady Bell was +lawfully married to Harry Fane. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII. + + BACK AT SUMMERHILL. + + +It was like a dream to Lady Bell as she travelled back to Summerhill. + +There passed in review before her, like the shifting scenes of a dream, +her London season and its triumphs, the love which had taken her by +storm in the middle of the world’s vanities, the declaration of love +after the play, the announcement on the Mall of the arrival of Harry +Fane’s sailing orders, the visit to Islington, the hasty private +marriage, and at last the wrench with which the bridegroom had torn +himself from his bride. + +Could it all have happened to Lady Bell, and was she really a new +creature, belonging to another, and bearing another name—his precious +name, if the truth were known? + +Or had she only awakened from a dream? The dream might have passed with +the bleakness and storms, which were over and gone, while in their place +had come the March of daffodils and bluebells ready to welcome her back +to Summerhill. + +Ah! no, Lady Bell was a new creature. Her heart was at the sea. These +land charms had become stale, flat, and unprofitable to her, since he +was not there to share them. She would give them all willingly for a +taste of the breeze, salt on her lips. Her eyes filled with tears, “idle +tears,” at the sight of a flock of curlews hovering over a waste and +recalling to her sea-gulls skimming the waves. Her whole being seemed +dissolving in yearning and longing for her lover and husband. Existence +would not be worth having till he was restored to her. + +But, in the first place, how was Lady Bell to present herself to her +dear Mrs. Sundon?—how account for the transformation in her to those +penetrating eyes, and that wise, experienced heart, unless by confiding +the truth to Mrs. Sundon? And, in that case, how was she to obtain +forgiveness for the march which she had stolen on her friend? + +Captain Fane had left Lady Bell free to take what friends she chose into +the secret. It was on her account, rather than on his, that a secret had +been made. + +Lady Bell had no thought but of telling the story to “Sunny” some +time—long before Captain Fane’s return. + +But there was no question that the telling would call for an effort on +Lady Bell’s part, tell when she might. There would be more than a breach +of confidence to receive forgiveness—more, even, than the assertion of +Lady Bell’s independence—there would be her subjugation to the powerful +influence of another, which had superseded Mrs. Sundon’s influence. + +The deed was done, yet Lady Bell felt more unequal than ever to the +sensation that she would create; the remonstrances, useless though they +must be, which she would raise, the reflections that might be cast on +another, the offence that might be taken by a friend to whom she had not +ceased to be warmly attached. In fact, instead of loving her neighbour +less, because of the one great central human love, she seemed to grow +specially tender to the wrongs and smarts of every human creature, all +for one mortal man’s dear sake. + +Withal, the bashfulness of the acknowledged bride was quadrupled in the +unacknowledged bride. True, Lady Bell had been married before, but that +marriage had been altogether different—such a miserable travesty and +poor mockery, that Lady Bell actually cried over the remembrance of her +old self, and the dead Squire, for what they had defrauded each other +of, and been defrauded of, many a time, during the first weeks of her +marriage to Harry Fane. + +It felt so strange to see Summerhill again. + +There was the dainty, slightly fantastic women’s house and grounds +exactly as she had left them, but surely with a failure in their +qualities which she had not distinguished before. + +The place presented the same want of shade and substance which Queen +Elizabeth had specially requested might be made in her picture. And the +traits of life at Summerhill had corresponded with Queen Elizabeth’s +idea that she and her maids should eat in private of the lightest and +most refined viands, while the ladies left all that was solid and strong +to the grosser appetites and needs of the gentlemen. + +Everything at Summerhill was fresh and feminine to a degree; but there +was a suspicion of flimsiness and make-believe in the very delicacy and +over-abundance of knick-knacks, where two young women had kept house +together, and sworn unalterable first friendship, presuming to turn the +course of nature, like these sister figures away among the Welsh +mountains. + +To recognise Summerhill the same as she had left it, and yet to look on +it with different eyes, knowing all the time that the difference lay in +her own eyes, was a singular half-remorseful experience to Lady Bell. +She was almost glad that Mrs. Sundon did not hear the carriage-wheels +and run out to meet her. There was only Caro in her nurse’s arms at the +door. It was a positive relief to see that Caro, quite in the course of +nature, had grown by the addition of a few more months to her short +lease of life, until there was some risk at her not knowing Caro, in +addition to the apprehended risk of Caro’s not knowing Lady Bell. There +was comfort in finding that anybody, even Caro, had undergone a change, +because of the tremendous change in Lady Bell, of which she was +tremblingly conscious. She should be thankful when the meeting with her +friend was over. + +Lady Bell hurried, stumbling in her habit, into the bright little +parlour—blindingly bright, and at the same time empty it looked, though +it had the fine presence of Mrs. Sundon advancing to its threshold. + +There were two little cries of “Bell,” “Sunny,” which had a rush of old +familiar affection in their tones that meant kisses—perfectly hearty and +sincere in their fondness, and a little laughter, with twinkled-away +tears. + +These tears seemed natural enough when Lady Bell was weary after an +exciting journey, and Mrs. Sundon might be wearier still with waiting, +and with staying all alone, having had no cheerful young friend at hand +to dissipate grievous memories. + +It seemed to Lady Bell as if a cloud of anticipated awkwardness and +indefinable constraint and distress had burst and vanished, as such +clouds will sometimes vanish at the moment of contact. She had found +again her indulgent, magnanimous Mrs. Sundon, on whose favour and +generosity Lady Bell could throw herself confidently—only she would +spare both her friend and herself in the first hours of their meeting. + +When Lady Bell had composed herself to scrutinize and draw conclusions, +it struck her with quick pain that Sunny was looking ill. + +Mrs. Sundon wore an exceedingly simple muslin dress, with the tight +sleeves ending in frills at the wrist, and falling over the hands, the +neckerchief being surmounted with the same wide plaited frills, out of +which rose the fair pillar of the throat, like the neck of a white +heifer out of a garland. + +But Lady Bell had never seen the grand womanly proportions brought +nearer to the spareness of attenuation, while the face was almost wan in +its colourlessness. + +Clearly Mrs. Sundon had not been flourishing on keeping house alone; she +had been wont to treat “nerves” and “vapours”—regarded as bodily +complaints, with lofty derision and condemnation; yet her own nerves +were unstrung, for she continued, though she did not allow it in words, +to be agitated by Lady Bell’s arrival. There was a stir and quiver of +Mrs. Sundon’s features as of a rock which had been disturbed and shaken, +and could not at once regain its entire balance and firm quietude. + +Lady Bell could not account for the involuntary disturbance and the +striving in vain to overcome it, in her friend’s expressive face, and in +her cold passive hand, which shook sensibly in Lady Bell’s feverish +clasp, unless it were that Mrs. Sundon’s health had become impaired. + +If that were so, there must be laid to Lady Bell’s charge, among other +acts of wilfulness and indiscretion, an ungracious oversight—the friend +who had been so good to Lady Bell had pined in her absence, and had been +left to pine. + +Or was it simply the disturbance in Lady Bell’s own flushed face, the +thrilling of her own pulses, which her morbid fancy and guilty +conscience transferred to her poor abused friend? + +No; here was an absent-minded, distrait woman, who had to assume an +interest which she did not feel, in narratives that ought to have been, +from her old familiarity with the scene, and her sisterly regard for the +heroine, stimulating and engrossing in their effect upon the listener. + +Lady Bell was conscious of this while she sat chattering incessantly of +all her different adventures, at the auctions and the routs, and was not +once pulled up and brought to book by such searching cross-examination +as the judge, jury, and counsel for the prosecution combined in the old +Sunny, would have known well how to conduct. + +Even when Lady Bell forced her tripping tongue to speak Captain Fane’s +name, while her eyes fell convicted, until their lashes rested on her +cheeks dyed with burning blushes, she might have spared herself the +trepidation and terror of instant discovery. Sunny’s mind was +wool-gathering, and she did not recall her scattered faculties to make a +single observation. + +Lady Bell would have begun to have a revulsion of feeling, and, from +being chilled, would have been mortified had she not been alarmed. + +As the day wore on, however, Lady Bell talked and talked her friend out +of her stupor, and procured a measure of response in home news. These +were but vapid concerns now to Lady Bell, but she was not going to +betray her conviction of their vapidness. + +Caro had cut ever so many teeth. The stubble chickens were ready for +killing. The Spanish jasmine had survived the winter. The mayor and the +good people of Lumley and Nutfield were all well, and,—oh yes, Master +Charles had got his colours, and was going up to town to practise drill +with the awkward squad in the reserve of his regiment, before he joined +the main body somewhere in the colonies—Mrs. Sundon had forgotten +exactly where. No, she could not say that she was vastly sorry for Miss +Kingscote, as the young fellow was fulfilling his calling, and going +where duty and the prospect of promotion, whether it were by life or +death, called him. + +The last words, in answer to Lady Bell’s sympathetic inquiry, were +spoken so shortly as to remind Lady Bell that there was a worse end than +that of death in Mrs. Sundon’s experience. + + END OF VOL II. + + PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO., CITY ROAD, LONDON. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + Italics, bold letters and small capitals have been converted to + _underscores_, =equal signs=, and ALL CAPS respectively. + + Perceived typos have been silently corrected. + + Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. + + Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78326 *** diff --git a/78326-h/78326-h.htm b/78326-h/78326-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4657c0d --- /dev/null +++ b/78326-h/78326-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7590 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Lady Bell, Volume 2 (of 3) | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } + h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.4em; } + h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; } + .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver; + text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; + border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal; + font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; } + p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; } + sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + .large { font-size: large; } + .xlarge { font-size: x-large; } + .xxlarge { font-size: xx-large; } + .small { font-size: small; } + .lg-container-b { text-align: center; } + .x-ebookmaker .lg-container-b { clear: both; } + .linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: left; } + .x-ebookmaker .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; } + .linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; } + .linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } + div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; } + div.footnote {margin-left: 2.5em; } + div.footnote > :first-child { margin-top: 1em; } + div.footnote .label { display: inline-block; width: 0em; text-indent: -2.5em; + text-align: right; } + div.pbb { page-break-before: always; } + hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom: 1em; } + .x-ebookmaker hr.pb { display: none; } + .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; } + .figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; } + .figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; } + .id001 { width:100%; } + .x-ebookmaker .id001 { margin-left:0%; width:100%; } + .ig001 { width:100%; } + .table0 { margin: auto; width: 55%; } + .x-ebookmaker .table0 { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; width: 90%; } + .colwidth10 { width:10% ; } + .colwidth15 { width:15% ; } + .colwidth75 { width:75% ; } + .nf-center { text-align: center; } + .nf-center-c1 { text-align: left; margin: 1em 0; } + .c000 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 1em; } + .c001 { margin-top: 1em; } + .c002 { margin-top: 2em; } + .c003 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; padding-right: 1em; } + .c004 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; padding-right: 1em; } + .c005 { vertical-align: bottom; text-align: right; } + .c006 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; } + .c007 { margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + .c008 { margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + .c009 { text-decoration: none; } + hr.pb { width:75%; margin-left:12.5%; margin-right:12.5%; } + div.tnotes { padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;border: dashed 1px; + margin:2em 20% 0 20%; } + div.tnotes p { text-align:left; } + div.ttext p { text-align:left; margin-left:10px; } + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp50 {width: 50%;} +.illowp46 {width: 46%;} + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78326 ***</div> + +<div> + <h1 class='c000'><span class='xxlarge'>LADY BELL</span><br> <br><span class='xlarge'>VOL. II.</span></h1> +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter id001 chapter x-ebookmaker-drop'> +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="cover" style="max-width: 157.625em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Book Cover: Lady Bell Volume II by Sarah Tytler" data-role="presentation"> +</figure> +</div> +<hr class='pb c001'> + +<div class='figcenter id001 chapter'> +<figure class="figcenter illowp46" id="ititle" style="max-width: 62.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/ititle.jpg" alt="Title page: Lady Bell, A story of Last Century" data-role="presentation"> +</figure> +</div> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1 chapter'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='xxlarge'>LADY BELL</span></div> + <div class='c001'><span class='large'>A Story of Last Century</span></div> + <div class='c002'>BY THE AUTHOR OF “CITOYENNE JACQUELINE”</div> + <div class='c002'><span class='large'>IN THREE VOLS.—II.</span></div> + <div class='c002'><span class='large'>STRAHAN & CO.</span></div> + <div><span class='large'>56, LUDGATE HILL, LONDON</span></div> + <div><span class='large'>1873</span></div> + <div class='c002'><span class='large'>LONDON:</span></div> + <div><span class='large'>PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO.,</span></div> + <div><span class='large'>CITY ROAD.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1 chapter'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <h2><span class='large'>CONTENTS OF VOL. II.</span></h2> + </div> +</div> + +<table class='table0'> +<colgroup> +<col class='colwidth15'> +<col class='colwidth75'> +<col class='colwidth10'> +</colgroup> + <tr> + <th class='c003'>CHAP.</th> + <th class='c004'> </th> + <th class='c005'>PAGE</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>I.</td> + <td class='c004'>A MESSAGE OUT OF THE PAST</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch01'>1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>II.</td> + <td class='c004'>FREED BY THE VISITATION OF GOD</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch02'>15</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>III.</td> + <td class='c004'>KEEPING HOUSE TOGETHER</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch03'>28</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>IV.</td> + <td class='c004'>FRIENDS IN NEED</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch04'>41</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>V.</td> + <td class='c004'>BOW BELLS AND THE FAMILY IN CLEVELAND COURT</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch05'>58</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>VI.</td> + <td class='c004'>A GAY YOUNG MADAM</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch06'>71</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>VII.</td> + <td class='c004'>MAKING AN ACQUAINTANCE AT THE PANTHEON</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch07'>82</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>VIII.</td> + <td class='c004'>OPINIONS DIFFER</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch08'>95</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>IX.</td> + <td class='c004'>BOULTON’S COINS AND WEDGWOOD’S DISHES</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch09'>106</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>X.</td> + <td class='c004'>A PARTY ON THE WATER</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch10'>124</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XI.</td> + <td class='c004'>DISCORD</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch11'>135</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XII.</td> + <td class='c004'>THE LITTLE DINNER AT HAMPTON, WITH MUSIC ON THE WATER</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch12'>149</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XIII.</td> + <td class='c004'>A VISIT TO LEICESTER FIELDS</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch13'>162</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XIV.</td> + <td class='c004'>SIR JOSHUA AT HOME</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch14'>174</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XV.</td> + <td class='c004'>THE MASQUED BALL IN PROSPECT</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch15'>185</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XVI.</td> + <td class='c004'>THE MASQUED BALL AS IT BEGAN IN REALITY</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch16'>198</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XVII.</td> + <td class='c004'>THE “COMMON DOMINO”</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch17'>210</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XVIII.</td> + <td class='c004'>ROMEO AND JULIET ON THE STAGE, AND IN LADY BELL TREVOR AND MISS GREATHEAD’S BOX</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch18'>222</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XIX.</td> + <td class='c004'>THE MEETING ON THE MALL</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch19'>240</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XX.</td> + <td class='c004'>TO TIE OR NOT TO TIE THE KNOT?</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch20'>251</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XXI.</td> + <td class='c004'>ISLINGTON CHURCH EARLY ONE MARCH MORNING</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch21'>264</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c003'>XXII.</td> + <td class='c004'>BACK AT SUMMERHILL</td> + <td class='c005'><a href='#ch22'>276</a></td> + </tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb c001'> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> + <h2 id='ch01' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER I.</span><br> <br>A MESSAGE OUT OF THE PAST.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>One hot day in the latter end of June, +Lady Bell was sitting in the orchard, +with Mrs. Sundon’s child in her lap, cooing +to it, tickling it, tossing it, decking it with +daisies, pretending to herself and to it, that +the not-many-weeks-old child noticed and +appreciated its floral finery.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The long, flower-besprinkled grass grew +all round, beneath the bending, leafy boughs, +through the shadows of which came perpetually +shifting chequers of sunshine. There +could just be seen, down a vista, the quaint, +grey house of Nutfield, with the last year’s +yellow corn-stacks beyond the orchard, mellowing +and warming the green and grey +<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>tints under the blue and white cloud-flecked +sky.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon with her fine figure and face, +in one of her white wrappers and close caps, +came slowly up between the interlacing +boughs; she stopped beside Lady Bell and +the child, looking down upon them. The +group was very sweet and graceful, and +wanted only a St. Joseph and a little St. +John to make it stand for one of the old +Italian “Riposos.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Look here, Lady Bell,” said Mrs. Sundon, +putting her finger on a paragraph in a newspaper +which she held in her hand.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell started and rose up in vague +perturbation. For precaution’s sake Mrs. +Sundon had abstained from giving her friend, +even in private, that friend’s name and title, +since Mrs. Sundon had discovered Lady Bell +at Nutfield. What had surprised the compromising +words from Mrs. Sundon now?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell took the newspaper and looked +at the place indicated. Her hand was shaking, +her breath was coming fast, her eyes +<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>were dazzled; but the intimation was so +plain and direct that she took in its meaning +at a glance. There was no ambiguity there +to prevent the message reaching its destination +and doing its work. “If Lady Bell +Trevor wish to see her husband in life, let +her return at once to Trevor Court.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>A mist passed before Lady Bell’s eyes; +the sunny June orchard, with the soft, fair +child whom Mrs. Sundon had taken into her +arms, and Mrs. Sundon herself, all grew in +a moment blurred and dark, as if the very +dews of death and remorse had fallen on +them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, Mrs. Sundon, what shall I do?” +cried Lady Bell, wringing her hands. “I +did not love him, I had no cause to love +him; but I was his wife, who was yet no +wife to him, and he is a dying man.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Go back to him immediately,” advised +Mrs. Sundon, “while there is still time to +wipe out your offence to him—it was light +compared with his to you. But it is ill +having an unsettled score with the dead. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>This would hang like a millstone round your +neck, and weigh you down all your days.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’ll go back if you counsel it,” submitted +Lady Bell desperately, setting off in nervous +haste to the house. “But how am I to face +him? if he have strength left to lift his hand +still, will he strike me as I have seen him +strike his man? Or, if he is gone, must I +stay in the house with the dead, I who +never saw anybody die but Lady Lucie, +who died blessing me? Would that I had +minded her precepts better; she would not +have had me leave the worst of husbands. +And how many miles will it be to post cross +country, Mrs. Sundon? you have a good +head and may guess. Can you tell me if I +shall be as long in going as I was in coming +here? only I did not come straight! Oh! +will you be so kind as to lend me the money +you think I shall need, for I have only three +crowns in my purse?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear, I shall take you,” said Mrs. +Sundon quietly. “Do you think I would +send you off on such an errand alone?”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>“Oh, I am so thankful,” Lady Bell admitted +in her relief, “now I may do my +duty at last; no, I don’t mean that,” she +checked herself the next moment, “I cannot +hear of you doing such a thing. How could +you leave your baby? You are too delicate +yet for such a journey—and to go to that +neighbourhood above all others. It is vastly +generous of you to propose it, just what +I should have expected from you; but, of +course, I cannot consent; I shall manage by +myself, somehow.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Say no more, Lady Bell,” Mrs. Sundon +put an end to the discussion, “I am going +with you. The child will do very well with +her nurse. Do you think I would put my +child, any more than myself, between me +and my duty and privilege? I should call +that treating my child very ill, paying her a +poor compliment, for which I should hope +she would never thank me. I am abler for +the journey than I was for coming here. I +need not fear to go near Chevely, which has +been sold, as I dare say you’ve heard. You +<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>cannot tell what I can do without harm to +my health,” declared Mrs. Sundon, with a +little bitterness. “I travelled from what +had been my home, handed into the carriage +by a bailiff on starting, and went out of +town when my child was no more than ten +days old. I could not have slept another +night under that roof. But even if I had +been a weaker woman, I should not have +shrunk from this poor effort, and you would +not have refused me my right.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had no longer the heart, any +more than the will, to decline Mrs. Sundon’s +support in the emergency. If Mrs. Sundon’s +presence made Mr. Trevor mad—should he +regard it as another act of wilful disobedience +even when Lady Bell was pretending +to obey him—it would be time enough then +to undertake the ungracious task of refusing +the elder woman’s countenance.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The great news that Mrs. Sundon and +Mrs. Barlowe were to set off on horseback +within the hour, availing themselves, by +permission, of Miss Kingscote’s and Master +<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>Charles’s horses, in order to reach Lumley, +where they were to hire a chaise to proceed +on a journey of indefinite duration, fell flat. +It was as nothing compared to the stunning +shock inflicted on Miss Kingscote when Mrs. +Sundon saw fit to communicate to the hostess +the real rank and history of her companion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Lud! lud! a Lady Bell all the time, +and I to have gone and found fault with +her, and kept her pottering about my business, +mending lace, and cleaning silver, lud-a-mercy, +what shall I do, brother? Mayn’t +I be took up by the King or the Lords, like +the ‘torney was, whom I’ve heard tell of, no +farther gone than father and mother’s day, +afore we came down in the world, and I +were a mite of a child—he gave a warrant +to arrest a fine lady in her coach in the +street, at the suit of a tradesman, and he +himself was had up before the justices—I +mean afore the Lords, for an insult to the +quality. Mayn’t I be had up and put in +prison, though I never knowed, nor meant +it, and I’ll beg her pardon over and over +<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>again, and she was a right-down pleasant +lass, madam—Lud! I’m losing my head—lady, +save when she was in the tantrums.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Nonsense, Deb,” exclaimed Master +Charles impatiently; “you did her a kindness, +and helped her in her end. As it +proves,” he continued a little sarcastically; +“whether Miss or Madam, she has been all +along far beyond our flight, and will never +waste another thought on us, now that she +has found birds of her own feather, and is +ready to go off with them to her own +perch.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“She were a runaway wife all the same,” +reflected Miss Kingscote sapiently, “though +she were ten times a Lady Bell, and she had +left her man as must have been hers in the +face of day, which made the leaving a heap +bolder in my madam—nay, my lady. I +vow I as good as telled her she was no +match for the Kingscotes of Nutfield.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You had nothing to do to say anything +of the kind, even though this Lady Bell +had been a simple waiting-maid or scullion. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>I don’t care which,” Master Charles was +provoked into telling his sister, as his good-humoured +indulgence gave way. “The +Kingscotes have not kept their own in the +world without loss, and they can ill afford +to despise the humblest—I say that, if I am +supposed to have anything to do with the +future matching of the Kingscotes,” declared +the young gentleman loftily, “and they’ll +be long enough of being matched for me, +since I could bring a mate to little better +than a farm-house, and a farmer’s kin. I’ll +thank you, Deb, not to meddle in the +matter.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“There, I’ve given offence to Master +Charles,” Miss Kingscote reflected glumly +after she was alone. “He’s taken to hurting +my feelings by twitting me with what +we’ve lost, as if the worsest loss weren’t +mine! not that I show it neither, for I’m +sure I’m a powerful fine woman, considering +my lack of education. And so she’s Lady +Bell, and if she had bidden still, I mun +have said my lady every blessed word, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>run at her heels as I’ve never made her +run at mine. But if this Squire Trevor, as +she has given leg-bail to, had not come on +the carpet, first and foremost, ere we set +eyes on her, mightn’t she have been my +Lady Bell Kingscote! That do sound fine! +prodigious fine! But if there had never +been no Squire Trevor, there would never +have been no bolting, banding with the +players, turning up at Nutfield, and making +friends with Master Charles, so there is an +end on’t. My Master Charles mun go to +the wars, and risk a sabre’s cut spoiling his +bonnie face,” mused Miss Kingscote, whimpering +at the very thought, “afore he fill +his chimney-corner, and bring home his lady +to sit down cheek by jowl with him, while +I’ll be right glad to retire to mother’s room, +save when they want my company, for I +ain’t teethy or prideful—I never were. +That mun be the order of the day, as Master +Charles ought to know.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Even before the parting, Master Charles +had cause to renounce his mortified conviction +<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>of how little he and his sister were +to Lady Bell Trevor, and of how she had +done with them from this day.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She was grateful for the assistance and +escort as far as Lumley, which he offered +so soon as he ascertained that the offer would +be agreeable to her and Madam Sundon.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell put her head out of the chaise +window at the last. Her scared eyes looked +with almost timid beseeching into his face. +She told him, without any sign of haughtiness, +but with many tokens of a retentive +memory for the smallest act of consideration +and kindness, of contrition for having +played a part to him and his sister, and for +not having trusted them in full, that she +had been very well off and happy at Nutfield. +She hoped that his colours would +arrive soon, that he would see a campaign +to his wish, and return safe and sound to +cheer his sister’s heart.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell sent Miss Kingscote her grateful +duty. Lady Bell trusted they would +meet again, when she would be able to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>finish her chair-covers. In the meantime, +she would not forget to procure patterns for +Miss Kingscote. Miss Kingscote must be +especially kind to Lady Bell’s brood of +chicks—the first brood she had seen set, +seen hatched, and fed every day with her +own hands.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was plain that for the moment, in place +of being eager to resume her cast-off rank +and state, Lady Bell had forgotten where +and why she was going, and everything +about Squire Trevor and his danger. It +was only when the chaise rolled off, and she +sank back in her corner, that she withdrew +into herself to face the grim record of the +bond she had broken, and the forfeit she +was called on to pay.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was on a fresh summer morning, when, +having started early to accomplish the last +stage of their journey, Lady Bell and +Mrs. Sundon came in sight of Trevor +Court.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The gates were standing open; early as +it was, the lodge seemed deserted, so that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>the chaise entered without parley. The dew +was lying like pearls on the grass by the +drive, and silvering the yews on the terrace. +The spirals of smoke from the red chimney-stacks +were rising straight in the clear air. +A gush of birds’ song sounded far and wide. +There was something light, bright, and exhilarating +in the air, and in the aspect of +nature, which lent a peculiar charm to what +was imposing in the pile of building and its +grounds.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I have not seen Trevor Court before, +save from a distance,” Mrs. Sundon let fall +the remark. “You never told me, Lady +Bell, what a fine old place it was.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I don’t think I ever noticed it till the +last time I saw it,” Lady Bell replied almost +in a whisper; she recalled vividly that last +time sitting on the September morning in +the travelling chariot beside its master, who +lingered in taking a short leave of his +treasure.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The next moment Lady Bell gave a +shriek and put her hands before her face. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>The chaise had turned into the sweep before +the house, where, in sombre contrast to the +summer morning, the windows were all +shrouded, and the hatchment was up.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span> + <h2 id='ch02' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER II.</span><br> <br>FREED BY THE VISITATION OF GOD.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>It was as a quailing widow, and not as +a reluctant wife, that Lady Bell re-entered +the old oak parlour, where she still +trembled lest she should hear her husband’s +loud, rough accents stuttering with rage, +and his stick, when gout confined him to +his chair, savagely beating the floor.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Walsh, in her towering cap and +starched frill, received Lady Bell, and spoke +to the point, without softening or reservation. +“Yes, it is all over, Lady Bell, the +Squire died last night at ten o’clock. He +was took with a jaundice on Wednesday +se’en night; but no danger was apprehended +till five days ago, when Mr. Walsh writ the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>notice for the papers—to no purpose, so far +as the Squire’s desiring to see and speak +with you once more was concerned. You +and he will not see and speak with each +other on this side of the judgment day.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, Mrs. Walsh, I came as fast as ever +I could.” Lady Bell humbled herself in +the dust before her ancient enemy. “I +know now I was a bad, bad wife. I would +give all I have in the world to be able to +live the last year over again, and do my +duty by your cousin, who is lying stiff and +cold in one of these rooms, where I shall +never hear him say that he forgives me, +that he makes allowance at last for my +youth, my wounded pride—what had a +sinful creature to do with pride?—my forced +inclinations. Oh! tell me he did not lay +his curse upon me with his last breath?” +implored Lady Bell, ready to sink down +with grief and terror, while she clasped her +hands and looked up, her distended eyes +brimming over with scalding tears, in Mrs. +Walsh’s inflexible face.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>“Yes, Lady Bell, you were a bad wife, +and you would not take a telling while it +was in your power,” declared the uncompromising +woman, standing bolt upright, +her very mittens bristling with her righteous +protest.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Madam,” interposed Mrs. Sundon with +rising indignation, “it is monstrous to reproach +this poor child at such a time. She +is sufficiently crushed by the nature of the +event which has taken place, following on +her rashness. She will not be likely to +forget it, even without your accusations to +embitter the blow. I vouch for Lady Bell’s +having lived in safety and honour since she +quitted her husband. Madam, you will not +refuse my voucher?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Madam, I have not heard your honesty +questioned, therefore I grant that Lady Bell +has come back in honest company,” acknowledged +Mrs. Walsh stiffly, “which is more +than might have been hoped, from her +flying in the face of law and duty, and +exposing herself to the worst perils.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>“Though you are the late Mr. Trevor’s +kinswoman, you must know,” said Mrs. +Sundon, “that Lady Bell Trevor has been +more sinned against than sinning.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I know that she is not too young or fair +or fine to be accountable for her errors to a +Power before which the most wilful lady +will not dare to plead her daintiness,” maintained +Mrs. Walsh doggedly. “But I +know, too, that you were sinned against, +Lady Bell,” she added candidly, turning to +the overwhelmed offender. “So far as that +goes, Squire Trevor did not deserve your +duty. But you had the will of a higher +than my poor cousin to consider, and where +should we all be, if we got our due, and +no more? It was on the Squire’s mind +at the last that he had wronged you; and +he sought to receive, as well as to bestow, +forgiveness, before he could die in peace.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I did not merit it,” said Lady Bell; +“but you told him, dear Mrs. Walsh—oh, +say that you told the old man that I forgave +him, as I hope to be forgiven?”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>“I charged him to repent, and if he had +done any wrong to a fellow-creature which +he could atone for, to make amends. Then +I bade him turn for forgiveness for that, +and all his sins, to the great God and +Saviour, against whom he had chiefly sinned, +but who would never refuse him forgiveness, +since, in the very act of his seeking +it, they were pledged for his salvation.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, thank God! that he died in peace +with me,” broke in Lady Bell impetuously.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Rather thank God that he died in peace +with his Maker, madam,” Mrs. Walsh did +not fail to rebuke her. “I think he did; +I am fain to hope he did, though he was +not able to fulfil his part of the obligation +here; the will must stand for the deed. +‘Torney Kenyon, who did all the Squire’s +business, was from home, at the wedding of +his son in Bristol. We sent twice, but we +could not get hold of the man in time. I +think it is better to tell you at once, Lady +Bell, what you will hear later.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>“As you will, madam,” replied Lady +Bell dejectedly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The Squire’s will was executed long +before he ever saw your face, when his +estate was bequeathed, failing any heir of +his body, to my eldest son Jack. The +substance of that will has been repeated +since you offended the Squire, and it has +neither been revoked nor altered, as my +cousin certainly desired it to be altered, in +his dying moments. But Mr. Walsh and +me, expecting that you, or some one for +you, would answer our summons, if you +were in the country, have made up our +minds, and will answer for Jack at his +college, to take your wishes on the matter.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I have no wishes, Mrs. Walsh,” exclaimed +Lady Bell hastily.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“We shall let you have whatever compensation +you desire,” went on Mrs. Walsh, +paying no heed to the demur, “being well +aware that such were Squire Trevor’s intentions +while he was yet in the body, and in +his right mind, so that you are indebted to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>no bounty, but to bare justice for your share +of the worldly inheritance that our cousin +has left behind him.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Madam, this honourable conduct does +you and Mr. Walsh infinite credit.” Mrs. +Sundon could not refrain from awarding +her hearty approbation to her late antagonist.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Mrs. Sundon, I repeat that ‘tis but +justice,” argued Mrs. Walsh with a stateliness +of her own, winding up with her own +favourite axiom, “The world and I have +shaken hands long ago.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You are all a great deal too kind to +me,” wept Lady Bell, “a rebel who deserted +my post. But indeed I had liefer, if you +do not think it an impertinence in me to +make an objection, that Mr. Trevor’s goods +went to you and your son Jack, his friends. +I am sure I have no right to a single +sixpence.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Beware of pride and sauciness still +under the garb of disinterestedness, Lady +Bell,” Mrs. Walsh said severely.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>“Nay, I’ll do whatever you will,” Lady +Bell hastened to amend her statement, quite +subdued, and feeling sadly as if she would +never have the heart to have a will of her +own again.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Madam, a second time everything shall +be as you will, and as your friends—such +as Madam Sundon and your man of business, +if you will please to name him—may +decide for you,” Mrs. Walsh laid down +the law.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell knew that she was not and +never would be mistress of Trevor Court. +Not that she desired it; she even recoiled +from it as from a sacrilege.</p> + +<p class='c008'>After the funeral, when the two ladies +happened to be alone together, Mrs. Sundon +said to Lady Bell—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“They are good people, these Walshes, +my dear. I should think very good people +to deal with and to raise a country parish +sunk in rude ignorance and gross transgression. +That was not your case exactly, +but I think you might have got on with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>them, and been the better and not the +worse for them. To be plain with you, +I cannot help saying, though it may be +presumptuous, that I think I could have +got on with them. I could acquire a great +regard for that woman, and I fancy I might +have a still greater for her good man. As +for Sally, I should have sought to soften +her brusqueness; yet brusqueness is not so +great a fault when it comes to weighing +faults. But you were too young, and you +were petulant between youth and hard +usage.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I shall get on with them now,” said +Lady Bell wistfully, looking incredibly +young and very fair in the weeds which +had been provided for her, and which she +had hastened to put on with her trembling +frightened fingers, as a mark of respect for +the dead, doing it the more eagerly because +she had failed in respect for the living.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I see the servants look sourly on me, +and no wonder,” confided Lady Bell to her +friend, “for they stood by their master, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>whom his wife left. But I’ll bear it, and +try to bring them to think better of me, +though Trevor Court is not mine, and I +cannot stay here, and keep the old people +and ask them to serve me. Mrs. Walsh +will see to her cousin’s household, that is +my comfort. I will do everything Mrs. +Walsh bids me from this time. I’ll be +good, Mrs. Sundon,” promised Lady Bell, +with a faint smile at her own childishness. +“But seriously, Mrs. Walsh took my place, +and saved me from a grievous reflection +which would have haunted my death-bed. +She will teach me to be a self-denying, +devoted Christian woman like herself. I +believe I did not judge Sally Walsh justly,” +Lady Bell finished with a little sigh of +compunction and doubt. “I dare say she +was not so pert and rude as I thought her. +I know she was far more dutiful than I +have been.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon said nothing more at the +time; but she determined that she would +not leave Lady Bell with the Walshes, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>though Mrs. Sundon was able to do them +justice. “They were never the people, +however good their intentions, to have the +guidance of Lady Bell,” reflected the lady. +“Now that Lady Bell’s spirit is broke and +her conscience burdened, she would become +their slave. I had almost as soon put her +into a nunnery, where in the present state +of her feelings, she would be content to take +refuge, but where in time she would be +driven either into fanaticism or hypocrisy, +my generous, tender Lady Bell! Just when +she is freed too, by the judgment of God, +from her cruel gaoler (God forgive him!) +and restored to hope and happiness. Why, +there is a bright life before Lady Bell which +nothing has come to spoil beyond recall. So +help me, I will make it bright and safe for +her as I would make it for my little Caro, +since Lady Bell came forward of her own +sweet will and did what she could to keep +me in Paradise. Oh! it is well for Lady +Bell that with all her early trials she has +not taken forbidden fruit into her mouth, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>and found it turn to dust and ashes between +her teeth. There is no great good under +the sun, but I will pursue the lesser good +for my Lady Bell when she begins to look +up and smile again. Bless the child! what +is the loss by honest death of such a husband +as Squire Trevor, though she was +desperate enough to run away from him, +compared to what some women have to +bear? I will keep the knowledge of evil +from her, as I would keep it from Caro. +She shall not fail to be, so far as I can help +her, a devoted Christian woman; but it +shall be after her own kind. ‘Wisdom +shall be justified of all her children.’”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Squire’s funeral sermon was preached. +It was not without its unvarnished allusions, +even though they were in the mouth of +Mrs. Walsh’s mild spouse, and not of the +most redoubtable champion of truth in the +parish, to the evils of stout spirits, stormy +passions, and family discord. It was +listened to with penitent humiliation and +meekness.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>A decent interval passed, and the arrangements +were completed, by which Lady Bell +was put into possession of a moderate jointure, +in addition to her marriage settlement, +from her deceased husband’s estate.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then Mrs. Sundon hurried her friend just +a little on the plea of the necessity of Mrs. +Sundon’s return to her child, and carried +Lady Bell back to Nutfield in the first +place.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span> + <h2 id='ch03' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER III.</span><br> <br>KEEPING HOUSE TOGETHER.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon were so +well pleased with each other, that they +agreed finally to take up house together. +They liked the air and aspect of Nutfield so +well, that they fixed on dwelling in the +neighbourhood, though no longer under the +wing of Miss Kingscote.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The two ladies rented one of the cottages +<i>ornés</i> which were beginning to be built +between the town of Lumley and Nutfield.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Summerhill had for its nucleus a one-storeyed +erection of black and white timber, +to which a wooden verandah had been added +all round. The whole was set in a large +enough garden and paddock to afford room +<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>for ingenuity to propose and execute a +number of wonderful performances in the +shape of winding walks, mounds, grottos, +bowers, even a dovecot and a dairy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The house was unfurnished, so that the +tenants had another gain in fitting it up +according to their tastes. Everything that +Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon ordered for +their use was bright and tasteful. There +was a good deal of white painted wood and +white dimity, relieved by warm, deep-coloured +carpet-work and rich embroidery.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The ladies gave evidence in the decorations +of their house of ability and refinement, +according to the standard of their +day. There were home-manufactured +brackets, sconces, card-baskets, and music-trays +in abundance. These things supplied +Lady Bell with endless employment, and +were sources of pride and delight to her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had thought to herself, first +when she became a widow, that she should +go softly mourning for her sins and her +strife with Squire Trevor all her days. She +<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>was perfectly sincere then, as well as afterwards, +and she did not cease to be sorry +for having done wrong; but to her surprise, +and a little to her shame, not only did her +youthful spirits soon recover their elasticity +and throw off the load of contrition and +melancholy reflections; but in addition she +was very happy—happier than she had ever +been in her life before, not even excepting +her early days with Lady Lucie Penruddock.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was not merely like one of +those graceful creatures of the air which, +casting the slough of the chrysalis, rises +buoyant in its elegance and beauty. She +had found a true mate, a companion and +friend, a natural equal and ally.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Eventful as the last year had been, and +calculated to develop her nature, Lady +Bell was not past the age when girls like +her have the strongest tendency to contract +friendship with members of their own sex, +and when indeed for the most part the +closest, firmest, womanly friendships are +<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>formed. And that was the generation of +women’s friendships, crowned by the sacrifice +of the world for each other, made by +the two ladies of <span lang="cy">Llangollen</span>.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was just the amount of superiority +in years, experience, and acquirements on +Mrs. Sundon’s part, and the kind of +essential difference between the young +women to confirm Lady Bell’s romantic +admiration for her friend, without preventing +a free and full interchange of sentiment +and opinion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell resumed gladly and with grateful +acknowledgment of the support which +she received from Mrs. Sundon, all Lady +Bell’s native pursuits, which had been so +continually interrupted and baulked.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A modern girl commanding a thousand +modes of cultivation, until she is oppressed +by them, will find it hard to comprehend +the self-respect and satisfaction with which +Lady Bell returned to her studies; her +French—in which Mrs. Sundon was a better +qualified assistant, so far as speaking went, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>than Mr. Greenwood at St. Bevis’s—her +thrumming on a spinet, her warbling +of “Hark, the lark,” and “Waft her, +angels.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon kept up her connection with +town and the world, and had not only +fashions, but newspapers and parcels of +books forwarded to her by the carrier and +the bookseller in Lumley.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The ladies were abreast of their times +(in which the war with America was taking +more and more serious proportions), and of +the literature of the day.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sir Charles Grandison” was becoming +an oldish book, and “Evelina” had not +yet come out. But Mr. Brooke’s “Fool of +Quality” was making its mark, and was +warmly welcomed as a step in the right +direction by all good men and women, +including Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell. In +sermons the ladies read Porteous or Blair. +In poetry they studied Mason’s “Flower +Garden” and Goldsmith’s “Deserted Village,” +while in travels, Pennant’s “Tour” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>seemed to them to have extended to the extremity +of the civilised world.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The absence, except at short intervals, of +even a provincial theatre, which figured so +largely as an intellectual influence at the +close of the last century, was supplied in +a degree to Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell. +They had the vigorous notices and criticisms +of the most popular plays and players in the +town newspapers; so that even while living +at a distance, the ladies could enjoy at +second-hand the heroics of “Douglas” and +the nonsense of “Polly Honeycomb.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell made many charming new +attainments, and that season at Summerhill +was, after all, in the fullest sense, the +spring-time of her life, when she was learning +something new every day, and was fast +budding into fresh promise.</p> + +<p class='c008'>All Lady Bell’s fine-lady gifts and graces +had been originally overmuch of the town, +townish. But Mrs. Sundon had been a fine +lady of the country, as well as of the town, +and could lead Lady Bell into elegant +<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>rurality, and even inoculate the girl with +a true love of the country and of country +life.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Under Mrs. Sundon’s superintendence, +Lady Bell became a lady gardener, and +advanced with rapid strides from an apprentice +to a journeyman, until, in addition +to her old power of embroidering facsimiles +of leaves and flowers, she could make carpets +and canopies of the plants themselves, hang +the verandah with them, and grow living +orange-trees in the window alcove of the +sitting-room. She laid carnations and +budded roses, and was as intent on getting +seeds of Canterbury bells and slips of geraniums, +as ever she had been on procuring +patterns for aprons and chair-covers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon had a kitchen +as well as a flower-garden. They had a +white cow in the paddock in summer for +their own and their baby’s use, and they +borrowed a brood of chickens from Miss +Kingscote, that they might be sure of new-laid +eggs for breakfast.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>The ladies did not commit these acquisitions +to their establishment entirely to the +care of their modest retinue of two maids +and a man.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell learnt, and did not dream that +the learning was derogatory to her, to pull +peas and pick gooseberries—actually to milk +the cow (in a perfunctory and not very +effectual manner, it must be confessed), so +that she could aver from her personal knowledge +that the syllabub, which she had also +made with her own hands, was compounded +as it ought to have been, of milk warm from +the cow. She made gooseberry-fool, as well +as syllabub, and was very conceited about +the deed and its success.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Had poor Squire Trevor been alive and at +Summerhill, his flighty young wife could +even have supplied him with his desiderated +tansy pudding, at this higher stage of her +education, and in her greater wisdom.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell dabbled in +all sorts of washes, balsams, simples, hot +drinks, blackberry cheeses, and sticks of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>saffron. Not being godless selfish unbelievers, +and having ignorant and helpless +poor neighbours, the two ladies became in +their own way unquestionable Christian +Ladies Bountiful—clothing the naked, feeding +the hungry, tending the sick, and +softening the rude, so far as their light and +power went.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon were the two +women of highest rank and polish for a considerable +circuit of miles, but they were not +on that account disdainful and unsocial in +their intercourse with their middle-class +neighbours, such as the Vicar and Mayor +of Lumley, the retired military or naval +officers and their families, who occupied +good houses in the town, and cottages +similar to Summerhill on the outskirts. On +the contrary, the two ladies were rightly +judged models of urbanity, a reputation +which no doubt they enjoyed, being gracious +where nobody presumed on their graciousness, +while they countenanced the Lumley +weddings, house-warmings, and christenings.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell had a hay-making +on their own lawn, to which the +whole population, so far as the Summerhill +grounds would hold them, were invited, +and came and went in ecstasies with the +entertainment.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon and Lady Bell became the +reigning toasts of the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It does not follow that the old world and +the old town were sycophantish; consider +the women and their circumstances.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell Trevor, the daughter of Lord +Etheredge and the widow of Squire Trevor, +of Trevor Court, in the adjoining shire, +was a beautiful, graceful, intelligent young +woman of seventeen.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon was not more than four years +older, at twenty-one very handsome, with +an air of command, which had been born +with her—command too well assured to +be other than simple and self-denying, or to +require haughtiness and arrogance to back +its claims.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon was a woman living in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>separation from her husband, it is true, but +by an act quite different from poor Lady +Bell’s hushed-up escapade. Mrs. Sundon’s +separation from Gregory Sundon did not +affect her social position in the least—in +effect rather elevated it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was perfectly well understood through +the Mayor that the details did the greatest +honour to Mrs. Sundon’s dignity and discretion. +And dignity and discretion were +qualities very highly, but not unjustly, +valued in a generation liable to run into +extravagant flights and excesses.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon showed the same appreciable +discretion in refraining from accusing her +husband, and in adopting, along with a +chosen friend, a life of retirement as well +as of virtue in the flower of her youth, and +in bringing up her little girl—as it was +quite understood Mrs. Sundon was bringing +up the child, when Caro was not yet +three months old—in the most meritorious +manner.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The very peculiarity of the two ladies’ +<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>position with the union of their forces, gave +them a freedom and weight in the society in +which they moved that they could not have +commanded had they been single women, +that they could hardly have possessed had +they been separate, though each had dwelt +in the house of her husband.</p> + +<p class='c008'>With Nutfield Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon +maintained the most kindly, cheerful +relations, long after use and wont had +hardened Miss Kingscote to the sound of +“my lady.” When the ladies of Summerhill +wished a little variety in their domestic +routine, they had only to stroll over to Nutfield +to bask in its homely cordiality, and +to get a little permissible fun out of Miss +Kingscote’s uncouth whimsicalities.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell and Mrs. Sundon could not +have managed for themselves without +Master Charles to act the part of a brother +to them.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In those days, when walking on country +roads was not always safe for ladies, when +they could not attend a single public place +<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>with propriety, unless they were supported +by male attendance, a gentleman who was a +privileged friend proved indispensable in +every household of women.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sometimes the friendships thus entertained +were of a peculiarly gentle and +chivalrous character, which the very scandal-loving +world admitted and respected. Thus +it saw no objection—not even that of age—in +the intimate association of a young man +like Master Charles with two charming +young women only a little above him in +rank, since the one was a wife and the other +a widow, and both were deprived of their +natural protectors.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span> + <h2 id='ch04' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER IV.</span><br> <br>FRIENDS IN NEED.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Only once was there an interruption +threatened to the brother and sister +relations between Master Charles and the +ladies of Summerhill, and that began and +ended among themselves, and had nothing +to do with on-lookers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Master Charles called on his friends one +day in a moody frame of mind. He looked +over some debatable accounts which belonged +to Mrs. Sundon’s department of the +joint housekeeping. He undertook to see +and settle with the offending tradesman, +and bring him to reason. He agreed to +stay to the three-o’clock dinner, and relieve +Lady Bell from the chicken carving. Still +<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>his mind was not lightened, so that his +friends felt it necessary to press him to +make a clean breast of it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The young man admitted that he had +been with a party of gentlemen on the previous +evening, when horse-racing had been +discussed, and bets had been freely given +and taken over the wine.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He had been flushed and excited like the +rest, and he had made such a book as +he feared, without the greatest good luck, +would be ruinous to him, when he had not +yet got his property into his own hands, +and any disgrace in money matters would +put a stop to the exertions of the friends +who were seeking to procure for him a pair +of colours.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was mad with himself, for he was by +no means without sense and shrewdness as +well as principle. He heartily wished that +he had joined the army as a volunteer, +sailed for Quebec or Boston in the first +transport, and been taken prisoner by the +Indians, before worse happened to him, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>before he baulked the expectations of all +who had taken an interest in so foolish a +fellow. He hung his head as he made the +confession.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Worse shall not happen,” Mrs. Sundon +interposed with decision. “You are right +in consenting to confide in us; indeed, we +value your confidence, sir, and women are +not always the worst councillors. I shall +speak to the Mayor to come forward and +help you, if the worst come to the worst; +he will do something for my sake, as well +as for yours. I shall have a little loan at +your service.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And I shall club every shilling I can +muster with Mrs. Sundon’s,” proposed Lady +Bell eagerly; “so pray don’t be down-hearted, +Master Charles.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The young man only hung his head +lower. He hated to lay women under contribution +to pay for his recklessness, while +he dared not, were it but for the sake of +another woman—his sister Deb—decline the +assistance offered to him in case of necessity.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>The ready generosity of his friends +melted him, so that he faltered with feeling, +in place of declaiming glibly in the +expression of his thanks.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Don’t speak of it,” Mrs. Sundon forbade +him; “only let this be a lesson to you +in the future,” she added with soft earnestness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The young man went away subdued in +his gratitude, but when the crisis was over, +he presented himself in a state of riotous +glee, to free the ladies from their promises, +and demand their congratulations.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Master Charles’s three to one and five to +two had turned out, after all, on the winning +side. He had had amazing pieces of +luck.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“By George! you ladies must wish me +joy, and allow me the honour and felicity, +as the town sparks say, of treating you +to whatever takes your fancy, a prince’s +plume, my Lady Bell, a lace apron, Madam +Sundon; sure you richly deserve it, and I +can afford to please myself for once in my +<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>life, since in place of coming to grief by +this little transaction, I vow I have made a +very good thing of it,” and he thrust his +hands braggingly into the pockets of his +frock coat.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, I claim my right to a return for +my willingness to befriend you, Master +Charles,” cried Mrs. Sundon, before Lady +Bell could speak. “I thought you were to +have a lesson, but I find it to be a snare. +I want no lace aprons, though I shall be +happy to take one from you, if you like to +grant what I ask. Promise me solemnly, +sir, on the word of a gentleman, that you +will both now and after you have entered +the army, do your best to resist betting on +cards and horses, at least round a supper-table +in the heat of conviviality.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But—but, Mrs. Sundon,” objected +Master Charles, taken aback, becoming immediately +crest-fallen, and colouring violently. +“No fellow of spirit could be expected +to give and keep such a promise. I +am not soft in these matters, I think for a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>novice I have shown myself as sharp as +my neighbours,” he drew himself up and +laughed, though the laugh was a little +forced. “I think—I beg your pardon, but +I do think you take advantage of your +kindness—I own it was very great, to +seek to bind me, as no man not a Molly +Coddle and a nincompoop would be bound +in the circumstances.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, Master Charles, think of Henry, +Earl of Morland, in the ‘Fool of Quality,’” +implored Lady Bell, “and how you were of +opinion he was a fine character, and ought +to be imitated in this dissipated world.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Such conduct is very fine in a book and +in theory, but it won’t do for bloods in +real life and in practice,” he put her off +impatiently.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Master Charles, I trust you will know +that there are brave men and gallant +soldiers too, that no man would dare call +Molly Coddles and nincompoops, who yet +set their faces against the indiscriminate +betting and gambling of this gambling +<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>age,” Mrs. Sundon told him plainly; but +that was not all. “Charles Kingscote,” +she said, appealing to him, face to face +and soul to soul, as it were, when she +addressed him thus by his Christian name +and surname, and with her own fine pale +face working with emotion and the anguish +of remembrance. “If you only knew the +misery and degradation wrought by this +curse of gambling—what generous natures +have been undone, what happy homes have +been cast down in ruins, never to be built +up again. Shall I lay bare the sorrows of +my life to enlighten you and save you, if I +can?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, Mrs. Sundon,” declared the young +man quickly, and with pain in his moodiness. +“I shall not allow such sacrilege for +my fancied needs, and I should be an ingrate +to deny your request as you put it, +however difficult it may seem to me. I +give you my word, as you desire, without +farther parley—and now you will permit +me to take my leave.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>The moment he was gone, Lady Bell +asked with a puzzled, pensive, rather scared +anxiety, “Will he keep his word, think +you?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I hope and trust he will,” replied Mrs. +Sundon, looking troubled still; “granting +that it will cost him a great effort, he is +manly and honourable enough in his youth +to make such an effort; and he has not seen +much bad company, that is a blessing, to +corrupt him from the beginning. Poor +boy! he was so happy when he came in, +and we disappointed and mortified him. +Do you know how he will regard me from +this hour, Bell?” Mrs. Sundon inquired +abruptly, with a certain wistfulness and +piteousness for herself thrilling through +her tones. “He is not bumptious or quarrelsome, +he is a fine, warm-hearted, good-natured +lad, but he will begin to hate the +sight of me.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, no,” exclaimed Lady Bell energetically.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, yes,” contradicted Mrs. Sundon +<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>quietly, shaking her head, “I know all +about it. A man pretends sometimes to +call a woman his mistress, but he cannot +forgive her, if she ever really play the part. +He will excuse almost any error in a woman +sooner than her finding him wrong, and +telling him so. She has humbled him then +in his own eyes, and he cares for that still +more than being humbled in hers. She +becomes irksome to him, and he half fears +her, half strives to deceive her, himself +sinking lower and lower till he ends by +hating her outright. When you marry +again, Bell, if your main object be to preserve +your husband’s love, fondle and defer +to him, and never admit by word or look +that you recognise he has forfeited your +esteem, as well as that of every honest man +and woman, and is on the high road to +destruction, carrying you and your unborn +child along with him.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I shall do nothing of the kind,” protested +Lady Bell, half crying at the idea. +“I shall speak the truth and clear my conscience, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>whether I shame the devil or no. +But on second thoughts, I shall not need, +for I shall never think of marrying again +and leaving you and little Caro, and ending +our happy life here, dear,” declared +Lady Bell, turning eagerly to caress her +friend.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You will not think of it perhaps, but +you will do it all the same,” said Mrs. +Sundon as she gave back the caress; +“however, we may let sleeping dogs lie +and not anticipate evil. To return to Master +Charles; see if he do not avoid me from +this day.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>For several weeks it seemed as if Mrs. +Sundon’s prognostications were to prove +correct. It was not that Master Charles +intermitted his visits to Summerhill, and he +was even punctilious in his continued offers +of service to the ladies; but somehow there +was a change in the nature of the intercourse, +and there was a dryness approaching +to sullenness in the young gentleman’s +manner to Mrs. Sundon.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>But at the close of these weeks Master +Charles thought better of it, and came +looking shame-faced, yet, but frank and +ingenuous as ever, and told Mrs. Sundon, +“I have been compelled to be a little more +particular in my company since the promise +you made me give you, which, of course, I +was resolved to keep, come what like of it. +But I have reaped the benefit of it already, +I have discovered that there are plenty of +gentlemen of parts and spirit, good judges +of horse-flesh besides, who will not play at +higher than half-crown points, and will not +lay a wager on a horse, or a dog, unless it +be so trifling a one that they have no +anxiety about it, and have all their minds +to bestow on their proper affairs. They are +ready to welcome me to their company when +they see that I prefer it. You were quite +right, Mrs. Sundon, I add my poor testimony +to my promise.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The dryness and sullenness disappeared +from that day.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was jubilant at the issue, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>the restoration of their comrade, and disposed +to crow over Mrs. Sundon.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh! he is a good sort, as Miss Kingscote +says,” confessed the authority, “he is +more generous than his brethren. I am +thankful to have been of use to him.” This +was all that Mrs. Sundon said to Lady Bell, +but in her own mind she reflected with +apparent incoherence, “I could wish that +he had been higher in rank, and Miss +Kingscote more presentable. I don’t think +that his being a little countrified would +have mattered to her else.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>As a supplement to all other interests +and entertainments, Mrs. Sundon and Lady +Bell had little Caro to play with—to plan +for with the deepest seriousness, to build +castles in the air for with the highest hopefulness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Mrs. Sundon was different from many +mothers. Mrs. Sundon not only did not +expect Lady Bell to be engrossed with her +little daughter, Mrs. Sundon herself would +have thought it exceedingly ill-judged and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>ill-bred to bring forward the child, and +cause her to fill the first place in the circle, +forcing every other interest and satisfaction +to give way to Caro’s interest and satisfaction.</p> + +<p class='c008'>No, little Caro, while she was dearly +prized and petted, was kept quite in her +proper and purely subordinate sphere, and +that under wholesome discipline, and was +decidedly a happier as well as a more modest +and artless child then and afterwards in +consequence of her mother’s public spirit in +combination with her common sense.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon would not permit Caro, +unless it were absolutely unavoidable, to +interfere with a single study or pursuit, +though the mother cared for the child incessantly, +and spared no thought or pains +upon her, from consecrating to Miss Caro’s +wardrobe Mrs. Sundon’s most exquisite +needlework, to being the child’s first teacher +in health, and nurse in sickness. Mrs. +Sundon would not allow Caro’s presence in +the morning-room—the company-room of +the house, except at stated and limited +<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>intervals. Mrs. Sundon put an interdict on +Caro and her nurse being a drag on walking +and riding excursions.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon did not carry Caro to any +public place whatever, but did not on that +account withdraw from public places. Mrs. +Sundon had an old-fashioned notion that +society and her friends had a claim upon +her, just as Caro had a claim, and though +Caro’s claim, as her mother delighted to +acknowledge, was the greater, Mrs. Sundon +did not conceive that it ought on that +account to swallow up the smaller. Mrs. +Sundon sent Caro to bed betimes, and would +not suffer this, or other excellent rules to +be infringed on any pretence.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The desirable result was twofold, Caro +from her earliest infancy was one of the +healthiest, most natural, and “prettily behaved” +of children. Mrs. Sundon had the +reward of being assured that the child was +regarded by all the friends of the family as +a boon to be welcomed, and not as a bore +or plague to be endured.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>So summer suns and winter moons rose +and set on the house at Summerhill, and +the two friends were “Bell” and “Sunny,” +like sisters to each other.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, Bell, this peaceful, rational, God-fearing +time is good after the distractions +of passion and the storms of life,” Mrs. +Sundon would say, stifling all yearning in +her voice, and setting her strong will to +make the best of the alleviations of her lot.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yes, Sunny,” Lady Bell would answer +brightly. “I get a better gardener every +month. Our place will be a spectacle next +year, only the French honeysuckle don’t +smell like our common honeysuckle, exactly +as lupins are not sweet as blossoming beans. +I am improving in my drawing. I propose +to try painting when the weather will allow. +Mayne in Lumley is to come out and give +me open-air lessons. I shall paint our Caro +nursing her foot in its red shoe under an +apple-tree—you shall see what you shall +see. But now I must tie on my hood, and +run down the lane to Goody Amos’s, with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>the plaster for her burn. Don’t forget that +there is a puppet-show in the town-hall, +which we promised to attend this afternoon, +before drinking a dish of tea, and staying +for a bit of supper with Captain Craddock +and his wife.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Very busy was Lady Bell—the true +secret of happiness. Yet, walking home +that same evening, escorted by the gallant +Captain and the Summerhill man with a +lantern, Lady Bell fell behind Mrs. Sundon +and her cavalier, and began dreaming under +the stars.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The dreams were not in the style of Dr. +Young, though Lady Bell had been lately +reading his “Night Thoughts,” and admiring +them greatly, as everybody admired +them then.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The dreams implied rather a vague sense +of waiting and of want, and of stirring in +the unfathomable depths even of a girl’s +nature. Was unruffled tranquillity, after +all, the secret of life’s best fulfilment?—whether +was it worse to have been torn by +<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>warring passions like Mrs. Sundon, or that +passion should never be awakened in the +dead calm within? Might not the last be +a greater loss to Lady Bell than the first +had proved to her friend?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Was Lady Bell to pass through life and +have adventures, be sad and glad, poor and +in comparative affluence, friendless and with +many friends, a wife and a widow, and her +heart still remain void of a history?</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span> + <h2 id='ch05' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER V.</span><br> <br>BOW BELLS AND THE FAMILY IN CLEVELAND COURT.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>“Bell,” said Mrs. Sundon one morning, +looking up from a letter which she had +been reading, “here is something for you. +The Sundons of Sundon Green, who have +always been on good terms with me, write +to invite us to pay them a visit in town, as +they have taken a house in Cleveland Court, +St. James’s, for the winter and spring. +What have I to do with town sights and +gaieties till Caro is a finished young lady? +But your day is only beginning. This invitation +is the very thing for you, since I hate +to think of you being moped up here continually.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>Lady Bell protested that she did not pine +for change, and that to spend her life with +her beloved, excellent, agreeable Sunny +ought to be more than enough for her, as it +would at one time have been beyond her +wildest wishes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Mrs. Sundon was bent on the change +for Lady Bell. “You have no friends of +your own to take you out,” Mrs. Sundon +pursued the theme, “but Lady Sundon will +be quite pleased and proud to usher into the +great world a young lady of title above +that of a country baronet’s wife. She is a +worthy, cordial soul, in spite of weakness +for rank, and will be really kind to you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell tried to look indifferent, but her +eyes sparkled, and Mrs. Sundon was resolute +in carrying out the proposal. Nevertheless, +Lady Bell was sentimental and almost +rueful the night before she was to start for +town, to which happily the Mayor of Lumley +was bound in order to figure in a deputation, +and Lady Bell with a young waiting-woman +who was to be about her person, was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>to make the journey with the Mayor in his +semi-official capacity.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Caro will have forgotten me in three +months,” reflected Lady Bell a little disconsolately +as she sat idle, for a wonder, in +the bright, pleasant room. “Goody Martin +may have been carried off to a better world +with her cough and rheumatism. Master +Charles may have got his colours, and have +marched to t’other end of this world, and been +engaged in an ‘affair,’ as the newspapers +call it, like the one at Lexington which we +were reading of. Your imitation Japan +screens will be finished, but I shan’t have +seen every stage of the process.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You won’t miss much there, Bell,” said +Mrs. Sundon.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell continued her catalogue. “You +will have read out Plutarch’s Lives, and I +shall not have had the advantage of hearing +your remarks as you went along. The +spring will have come back, and be well +established, but I shall have taken a leap +over the first snowdrops, crocuses, primroses, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>and violets. I wonder if I shall gain enough +to make up for the loss? I begin to wonder +even if I shall be permitted to come back, +and find everything as I left it here, after I +have been so mad as to quit, of my own free +will, our dear, sweet home?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is not in that you need fear change,” +asserted Mrs. Sundon cheerfully, “if you +come back to us unchanged yourself, Bell, +that is the question.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, as to that there is no fear,” declared +Lady Bell confidently, recovering her spirit. +“I must ever be true to Summerhill. But +ah, Sunny!” she relapsed the next moment, +“we have been so happy here—so much +happier than I ever was before. Does it +not seem doubtful whether the same happiness +can be again in this troublous world?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If not the same, then let us trust that +there may be happiness of another kind to +supply the place of the past happiness,” +Mrs. Sundon encouraged the girl. “Come, +Bell, I will not have you low on this our +last night.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>Lady Bell forgot all her forebodings when +she found herself drawing near to London +again.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A hundred years ago, when communication +was slow and difficult, and knowledge +little spread, the civilisation of the country +centered peculiarly in the capital. It was +the source of every public movement, the +winter seat of the court, the high place of +noble and splendid society, the chosen resort +of wisdom, wit, learning, and accomplishments +under every guise. It had its gross +evils, no doubt, but so great were its counterbalancing +advantages and its general irresistible +fascination, that even the most +modest and sober moralists and philosophers, +of all ages and both sexes, sighed longingly +to enjoy the benefits and charms of town +life.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And Lady Bell was town bred. The +very smoke smelt sweet, and the cries +sounded melodious to her ears.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, sir!” she addressed the Mayor as +they were drawing near the great city, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>while she was unable to resist putting her +head out of the coach windows. “Let us +try to catch the first sound of Bow bells; +let us make my woman Rogers hear them. +They do jingle so tunefully, one cannot +wonder that they caused Whittington to +return, even without the cat.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell’s arrant native propensity for +the life, the stir, and the variety of the +town, had only been subdued into a grateful, +intelligent acknowledgment that the country +also had its charms, it was not routed out of +her. She was inclined to return to her first +love.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then, to add to the gladness of Lady +Bell’s return, she was coming back under +different and happier auspices. Instead of +the helpless, penniless child, driven off to +the cold welcome of St. Bevis’s, Lady Bell +was an independent woman; and though +she was not a rich young widow, as Mrs. +Greenwood and Sneyd had once hoped for +her, she was a young widow, with a modest +but sufficient jointure, going to her friend’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>friends, who were to consider it a credit and +satisfaction to entertain her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The members of the Sundon family, who +were in Cleveland Court, St. James’s, were +Sir Peter and Lady Sundon and her two +step-daughters. The only son of the family +was a boy at school.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Peter was sixty-four, lank and lantern-jawed, +and ailing, as his appearance betokened. +He had come up to town to be +under some of the medical faculty there.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Sundon was fifty-five, as hale as +Sir Peter was the reverse, one of those +hearty, brisk women who did not require +rouge, she was so rosy in her matronly +roundness of cheek; and did not want a +stick, or the page’s arm, she was still so +active in her fulness of figure.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Misses Sundon were between twenty +and thirty, daughters of Sir Peter by a +former marriage; while the son and heir +was Lady Sundon’s only child. The Misses +Sundon were young women to whom it +seemed a matter of necessity to wear the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>highest heads and heels of the period, in +order to lend distinction to their poverty of +form and general colourlessness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You’ll be after the sights, Lady Bell,” +said Sir Peter at supper. “Ah! they ain’t +worth the trouble and fatigue they give +you,” he ended, shaking his head, as he +called the grapes sour which he could no +longer reach.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Bother! Sir Peter,” cried Lady Sundon, +“to go and daunt my Lady Bell, and +she as fresh as a daisy, and as nimble as a +young colt. I’ll warrant she’ll be up to +all the racketing, from the Queen’s caudle-drinking +to the opening of Ranelagh, which +we can cram into the next two or three +months.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Not so bad as that, Lady Sundon,” said +Lady Bell; “but though I’ve seen the +sights, save it may be the newest, I confess +I’ve come up to try a taste of town gaieties +again.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And do you think such a fine young +woman as you are will be let off with a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>taste, even if that were to content you, +when every maccaroni left will be wild to +make you take your fill of pleasure.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“La! Lady Sundon,” interposed Miss +Lyddy Sundon, who, in company with her +sister, was as die-away as her stepmother +was jolly, that they might thus establish a +claim to refinement and a presumptive case +of superficial grievance, against Lady Sundon. +For somebody had impressed upon +the young women, that there must be hardships +where there were step-relations, and +Miss Lyddy and her sister had languidly +taken up the idea as a source of interest +which could not otherwise be found in their +ordinary persons, characters, and prosperous +lot. “Who would care for such rude +draughts? Only a milkmaid or a ploughman +could stand them. Polite people like +Lady Bell soon have enough.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A fig for your philosophy, Lyddy,” protested +the elder woman; “I never saw you +abstemious in your draughts, and sure I +never stint you. As for milkmaids, young +<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>women are very much alike, whether they +be milkmaids or countesses, I take it—no +offence, Lady Bell. I do love a noble name +and a title, all the same.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“There is no offence,” Lady Bell replied +with a smile.</p> + +<p class='c008'>While Miss Lyddy insinuated a word of +hurt feelings—“I wish your ladyship would +explain what you mean by not seeing me +abstemious in my draughts. I hope I know +what a delicate woman owes to her nerves.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sister,”—Miss Sundon soothed the injured +fine lady solemnly,—“Lady Sundon +does not mean to speak unkind. She knows +that we take after our papa, and have not +her rude health and high spirits, which make +her love her joke to the degree that she +may certainly mislead Lady Bell Trevor.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh dear, no,” denied Lady Sundon with +careless candour, “Lady Bell can see for +herself that you are two poor creatures not +able for much, though after all you are fit +for more than you think for, only you have +got it into your heads that it is not tonish +<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>to be natural and merry as grigs, which I +was when I was like you. But it is all +fudge, and you are clean out there, as Lady +Bell can tell you, and as I could have told +you myself if you would have listened to +me. Ain’t the great ladies madder than the +country lasses? Han’t I seen, since I came +to town, when I had ridden out to Twickenham, +her Grace of Devonshire marching in +regimentals at the head of a company of +fencibles? Now, I ain’t so bad as that, Sir +Peter,” Lady Sundon challenged her valetudinarian +husband.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, nor need be, my lady, so long as +my bridle is on your neck,” retorted Sir +Peter dryly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You must have mistook,” maintained +the two Misses Sundon in a breath; “her +Grace could never have done anything half +so shocking. What! march miles on a filthy +miry road, in the company of hundreds of +common men, followed up by the rag, tag +and bob-tail of their wives and children; +having no rest and refreshment, unless she +<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>could swig her can of ale with the fellows +at the ale-house doors!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I ain’t mistaken—I can credit my own +eyes,”—Lady Sundon kept her point,—“and +to march in regimentals, with a regiment +of common men as honest as their +betters, was none so shocking, after the +stories I have heard told of card-playing on +Sunday evenings, Sir Peter, of masquerading, +of appointments in Belsize Park, of +Fleet marriages—Parliament hath forbidden +the last—you have lost that chance, +girls.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Madam, would you ever liken us to it?” +gasped the step-daughters.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Polly, your tongue wags too freely,” +remonstrated her husband, “and I won’t +have you run Lady Bell and the girls off +their feet. Besides, what is to become of +me?” he asked in a dolorous tone; “am I +to be left to Jebb’s gallipots and James’s +powders, while you are frisking about all +day and all night? Is that what you call +acting the part of a good wife, and training +<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>up these daughters of ours in the way they +should go?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, no fears—no fears of you, above all, +my dear,” Sir Peter’s lively helpmate reassured +him. “You’ll be seen to, whatever +comes of it. Were you ever forgotten? +Indeed, to suppose so, is the unkindest cut +you’ve given me and the girls this age.” +And then, failing to be cut by the cut, +Lady Sundon proceeded to plan a party of +pleasure.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span> + <h2 id='ch06' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER VI.</span><br> <br>A GAY YOUNG MADAM.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>With so light-hearted a head of the +house, just held in check by the mild +selfishness of Sir Peter and the mild grumbling +of his daughters, Lady Bell could not +have a dull time of it during her stay in +town.</p> + +<p class='c008'>No doubt there were the drawbacks which +are inevitable in life, and which make the +realisation of our dearest wishes fall short of +the expectation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was the tender pang with which +Lady Bell, having hurried to the spot on +the first opportunity, looked on the outside +of her old home, Lady Lucie’s lodgings in +Bruton Street, occupied by strangers.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>There was the pensive wonder and regret +with which, forgetting the changes in herself, +Lady Bell found that even a few years +had been able to make havoc in Lady Lucie’s +circle; so many of the members were old, +like Lady Lucie, and had soon followed her +in death; while the younger individuals, +engrossed with their personal cares, had all +but forgotten little Lady Bell, who had so +faithfully remembered them, and met her +again with the indifference of exhausted +acquaintance.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Strange moving vicissitudes had overtaken +some of the old familiar figures.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But though they startled and affected +Lady Bell for the moment, the victims had +not been so much to her, that their memory +should continue to weigh upon her mind, +and the blanks which their absence made, at +first, were soon amply supplied.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In like manner, if the very topics of conversation +were changed, and nobody seemed +to remember the old Princess of Wales’s +death, or the failure of Fordyce’s Bank, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>Lady Bell could catch the new cue and +speak of the American war with the best.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Sundons, of Sundon Green, were +people of good account in their own county. +Sir Peter, invalided though he was, had +considerable political influence in the heat +of the strife raging between Tory and Whig.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Sundon was generally popular, even +among more fastidious and exacting people. +Her good-humoured blitheness, dashed with +coarseness and worldly-mindedness, had the +manifest advantage that it did not rank high +enough among the virtues to form a reproach +to the halting virtue of anybody.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell possessed in herself, independent +of her host and hostess, almost all +the elements calculated to insure a season’s +success. She was a complete novelty, appearing +at her age, after years of rustication. +She had the benefit of acknowledged birth +and breeding, to which Lady Sundon led +the way, in paying open, honest enough +homage, as she frankly confessed herself +Lady Bell’s social inferior, while she displayed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>as frankly her pride in taking Lady +Bell about. Above all, Lady Bell was +lovely, with a dainty, arch loveliness, which +her youthful widowhood rendered peculiarly +piquant.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The presence of the Misses Sundon in +Lady Bell’s company was simply the putting +of two foils beside the little lady, while the +foils were useful in dividing responsibility +with her, and in rendering her security +doubly secure.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was not rich to bribe suitors, +but she was so far well off as to make the +pursuit of her, regarding her merely as an +object of attraction and fashion, comparatively +safe to the gallant fops, wits, and idle +men of wealth and rank lounging or rioting +through the hours, and ever ready to welcome +a fresh interest.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As it happened, just at that moment, a +belle’s throne was vacant, after the conjoint +reign of the three great belles of late +seasons.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Mary Somerset was swiftly paying +<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>the penalty of a “wasp waist,” and sickening +to death under the burden of the honours +of the Marchioness of Granby.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Harriet Stanhope had become Lady +Harriet Foley, and was on the way with her +husband to Newmarket and ruin.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Of Lady Betty Compton, whose style and +title remained unchanged, it might be +alleged, much as it was said with regard +to Aristides the Just, that the fashionable +world had waxed weary of the name and +fame of Lady Betty Compton.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Foolish Lady Betty! she ought to have +inaugurated a change of some kind betimes, +and married or died after the example of her +sister queens, for there is nothing so mercurial +as the wind of opinion which brings +about the installation or deposition of such +an airy sovereign.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And now Lady Bell Trevor grew the rage +until she was as universal a toast in town +as she had been in humble provincial circles.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There is no denying that Lady Bell enjoyed +her success, and the writing of it to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>Mrs. Sundon, in the most off-hand, unsophisticated +manner.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The pleasures of the town, which might +be vapid and worse—tainted to more thoughtful, +experienced people, were very fresh and +sparkling to Lady Bell; she found a thousand +things to engage and delight her at the +opera, the play-houses, the Court revisited, +the ridottos, the private assemblies. It was +no trouble and distress, but great pleasure to +her to pay visits, attend auctions, and go +a-shopping three mornings out of four. It +was so entire a change, though it was like +native air, that she returned to it with renewed +zest. She might, probably she would, +tire of it after a time, but she could not tire +of it very soon.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And Lady Bell found it highly agreeable +to be followed, besieged, even persecuted +by the attentions of those men, some of +them distinguished—whether for good or +evil, or both, as elegant scholars, as daring +travellers, as dead shots (when the game +was not shy partridges or timid deer, but +<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>fellow-men, scowling in deadly enmity, +pistol in hand, at twelve paces distance), as +bold riders, and betters, and three-bottle +men who, drunk or sober, could remain +masters of the situation, and make themselves +listened to in the House, and out of +it, compared to the least brilliant of whom +Master Charles of Nutfield was but a +comely, kindly rustic and ignoramus.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The great proportion of these men were +little in earnest in their adulation; but +Lady Bell was quite aware of the fact, and +did not mind it. Her own heart was not +touched; she could meet her admirers on +equal terms, and like a child playing with +fire, she feared no danger. She liked, +though it meant next to nothing, to be +besieged for her hand in a minuette or a +cotillon, for the honour of serving her with +tea in the box of a coffee-room after the +opera or the theatre, or of handing her to +Lady Sundon’s coach. She did not object +to being spoken to, albeit the terms were +exaggerated, of the felicity of being in her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>presence, and the despair of feeling her +absence. She did not believe it, of course, +but it was a little intoxicating at the same +time.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Sundon, who had not enjoyed any +reflected triumphs on her step-daughters’ +account, was in the greatest glee at being +chaperon to so favoured a young lady.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon, who had been brought up +to the contemplation of these triumphs, considered +them quite legitimate, and viewed +them as the necessary finish to the rearing +of a woman of quality, and the mode by +which her future was most frequently +rounded off and settled.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell could have got into almost any +set. Though she had no claims to dabbling +in literature, she would have been granted +admittance to the assemblies of the blues—in +the drawing-rooms of Lady Charleville, +Mrs. Boscawen, and the great Mrs. Montague. +But the truth was that Lady Bell +did not altogether appreciate classical poses +and coquettings with the muse, and did not +<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>care for the fine gentlemen who were so +sensitive about her reading their poems, and +the great ladies who were so fond of hearing +themselves speak.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had once taken a prominent +part in an election, yet she was as guileless +as most young women of eighteen of comprehending +or caring for politics, unless, +indeed, they bore on such sentimental, +sensational questions as the imprisonment of +the Queen of Denmark—the marriage of the +Pretender—or Lord Mansfield’s decision +that no slave could be sent back from England +to the chain and the lash of a taskmaster. +Still, that trifling deficiency might +not have prevented her from entering the +ranks of the fair enthusiasts, who, in the +vacancy or the usurped possession of heart +and mind, and in the craving for excitement +which circumstances fostered, were +already short-sighted partisans and reckless +agitators for and against American independence, +in sympathy with or in hostility to +French philosophers. Lady Bell would +<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>have proved an invaluable acquisition even +to the sisters Devonshire and Duncannon +and to Mrs. Crew, who would have opened +their exclusive arms to her, for they forgot +to be rivals in their fervent worship at the +one shrine of their half-splendid, half-brutified +idol, who could guide alike a steed +and a state.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell shrank from the wild devotion +to the buff and the blue, or to any +other colour of the rainbow. She contented +herself with marvelling at Anne, Duchess +of Northumberland, haranguing the populace +from a window in Covent Garden, on +the election of her brother-in-law, Lord +Percy, and with freely owning that this +performance far surpassed any of her, Lady +Bell Trevor’s, election achievements.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was too young, too pretty, and +at once too rich and too poor, to take to the +card-tables, which were still more enthralling +than the hustings to their votaries, and +which were the conspicuous accompaniments +of every entertainment. She might +<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>have had gambling in her blood, through +her relationship to Squire Godwin, but her +life at St. Bevis’s and Mrs. Sundon’s experience +had destroyed the constitutional +predilection.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was instinctively wise in not +allying herself so closely to any circle as to +shut herself out from others, and in preferring +to shine as a charming visitor to +each in turn. By this species of discretion, +as much as by her graces, Lady Bell won +the approbation of the master of assemblies +to aristocratic London, whose notice was +honour, and his approbation the seal of +taste. The exquisite, rattling-boned, +grimacing Mr. Walpole condescended to +commend her, asked to be presented to her, +found out she was his cousin a hundred +times removed, and graciously invited her +to the next theatrical representations at +Strawberry Hill.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span> + <h2 id='ch07' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER VII.</span><br> <br>MAKING AN ACQUAINTANCE AT THE PANTHEON.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Lady Bell was with the Sundons at +the Pantheon, which was in winter +what “dear delightful Ranelagh” was in +its season, to every town letter-writer of +the generation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Here, too, was to be met a considerable +amount of picturesqueness, variety, and +freedom in an age which alternated between +excessive ceremonial and bursts of licence. +All the world could go to the Pantheon as +to Ranelagh, and, if in consequence there +were, on the one hand, greater openings to +folly and vice, there were, on the other, +better provisions for rational and innocent +pleasure, than in more private and restricted +places of entertainment.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>The women who groaned under the barbarous +encumbrances and entanglements of +ruffled sacques, and immensely high and +extravagant dressed “heads,” at other +fashionable gatherings, could come in an +elegant undress to the Pantheon as well as +to Ranelagh, walk about, listen to concerts, +and form little social parties in the underground +tea-room. There was a charming +demi-toilette for such places, of gowns with +worked neckerchiefs, and little hats over +the hair, hanging down in curls upon the +shoulders. While the use of this privilege +at a resort rendered so brilliant, was not +held to preclude distinctive touches of gay +knots of ribands, fans, and sparkling jewels.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The gentlemen were not permitted the +same relaxation in their obligations. They +must have the triangular hats mostly carried +under the arm when the hair was fully +powdered, the silk stockings, and the lace +cravats. None save defiant bucks of high +rank ventured to violate the traditions of +the Pantheon or Ranelagh by presenting +<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>themselves in morning buckskins and short +coats.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell and the Sundons had arrived +too early, Lady Sundon having a country +mania for being in time at public places, +to have collected any stray members of what +Lady Sundon called Lady Bell’s “pack.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The party with their single male attendant, +a hobble-de-hoy nephew of Sir +Peter’s, had gone down-stairs to pass the +interval in drinking tea, till the main body +of the company should arrive, and the +tuning of the musical instruments end. As +other first-comers followed the Sundons’ +example, Lady Sundon kept on the out-look +to hail acquaintances.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was resting and anticipating, +with lips apart and a flickering smile, what +hero of her train would turn up soonest.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Miss Sundon was pensively helping Miss +Lyddy Sundon to the last macaroon, on +which the hobble-de-hoy squire had cast a +covetous eye, and remarking with a sigh, +“Sister, we need not have been so hurried +<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>as to take away the little appetites we have, +scarcely a soul is to be seen. I understand +it is the correct thing not to come till near +ten o’clock. But you and I must do as we +are bidden.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And a good thing for you too, girls,” +proclaimed Lady Sundon, in her slightly +view-halloo voice. “What! wait till near +ten and miss all the company coming, the +best part of the pleasure, and the half of +the concert—though I can’t say I care for +their Italian squalling; give me one of +Lady Bell’s lessons on the spinet, or a +good English chorus. But my likings are +neither here nor there. And no, say I, I +shan’t be cheated of half my treat, such as +it is. There is somebody I ought to know. +Heyday! it is my own cousin, Harry Fane, +come up from his ship at Portsmouth.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Sundon whisked off her seat, unimpeded +by her size or her years, as if she had +been a girl of sixteen, and favoured by the +thinness of the company, succeeded in overtaking +and tapping with her fan the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>shoulder of a gentleman in blue and white +uniform, whom she arrested in his course, +and brought back with her, as a reward of +virtue and early habits.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“See what I’ve got by coming betimes, +girls; sure, we might never have set eyes +on each other if the rooms had been full,” +Lady Sundon cried exultingly, and then +she rattled on in one long sentence, with +breaks for breath. “You know my step-daughters, +Harry, and this is Lady Bell +Trevor, a friend of Mrs. Sundon, of Chevely +(at least, she used to be of Chevely, poor +soul! before Greg Sundon went all to the +dogs), who does us the honour of being +with us this winter. All agog Lady Bell +keeps us, I can tell you, so that neither she, +nor we, can get peace for you men.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Pray don’t give me so bad a character, +madam,” objected Lady Bell demurely.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It has been the same tune,” maintained +Lady Sundon, “since she was Lady Bell +Etheredge, Earl Etheredge’s daughter (I +hope you are up in your peerage, Harry); +<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>she had to marry old Squire Trevor, for +peace, when she was a chit of fifteen, but he +is dead, and she is as bad as ever.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do you mean to fright your cousin, till +he refuse to be presented to me, Lady +Sundon?” Lady Bell cut short the tale of +her conquests.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“He ain’t such a lubberly coward as to +deprive himself of what blue jackets, as well +as red coats, are fighting for; if he were, he +should get no harbour from me. Lady Bell +Trevor, Captain Fane of the <i>Thunderbomb</i>. +He may pull a long face at our frivolity, +and pretend to find fault with us for being +children playing with toys, but he is not +such a bad fellow at bottom—as some of +these misanthropes—misogynists, what-d’ye +call-‘ems.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I am obliged to you for the character of +a sage, cousin,” replied the gentleman with +perfect gravity, “Lady Bell Trevor, will +you permit me, so soon after being introduced, +to take the liberty of pitying you, if +my cousin is serious in her account.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>“A humorist,” Lady Bell commented to +herself under her breath, “an animal that +I detest, though I understand my dear +Mrs. Sundon has rather a fancy for the +species—there is no accounting for tastes—neither +is the specimen handsome to excuse +him for any form of conceit. I dare say he +is clever in some dry disagreeable way.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane of the <i>Thunderbomb</i>, thus +apostrophized and reviewed by bright keen +eyes, was a young man of twenty-eight +years. Although he was not strictly handsome, +he had a good figure, which his naval +uniform set off, and his face—with a thick +cogitative nose, a wrinkle between the eyebrows, +and a tendency to squareness in the +jaws—was lit up by a pair of fine eyes, and +a pleasantness in his smile when he did +smile, which was rather too seldom.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane accepted Lady Sundon’s +invitation to join her party; he was on very +good terms with his cousin, though she +announced to Lady Bell, “he takes me off +at no allowance,” and in accordance with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>this communication Lady Sundon was continually +nodding her head, and snapping +her fan in mock agreement with, or smart +protest at, Captain Fane’s strictures.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The gentleman was indemnifying himself +for his concession to kindred feminine influence +by the private reflection, “Here is a +fine lady of fashion whom my ‘merry wife’ +of a cousin has bagged by some chance. I’d +better improve the opportunity of studying +the latest shore and town follies, grafted +on a woman’s wilfulness and caprice. +Heartless young dowager (why, she looks +little more than a child!) to have married +an ‘old Squire Trevor’ and buried him to +boot, and to be looking out for his successor, +I warrant, with what she’s been cunning +enough to secure of the defunct Squire’s +goods. It is a bad, as well as a mad world, +my masters; but of all things I can’t abide +an artful young woman, and this one looks +so artless (which makes the art much worse) +in the middle of her airs and graces.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Harry don’t think we women have a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>pinch of sense,” Lady Sundon was saying, +“besides the five senses we can’t help +having. As for him, I tell him that except +that he’s as sober as a judge (and he a +sailor!), and is fond of books and instruments, +having his cabin fitted up with them +like a pedagogue’s den, he’s a regular chip +of some of the horrid old woman-hating +admirals. You are a woman of spirit, Lady +Bell. I do wish that you would serve it +out to him, or take him in hand and do +something to improve him.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Pardon me, Lady Sundon, I have +neither time nor talent in that way,” Lady +Bell excused herself with one of her airs, +not approving of this proposal on so short +an acquaintance, to the cynical, saucy +fellow’s face.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And I should not be worth the trouble, +Lady Bell,” the gentleman hastened to +explain; “I am afraid that I am incorrigible +to any fair, fine lady’s pains.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Though neither of them exactly meant it, +they were both so disdainful, that it was a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>good deal like flinging down gauntlets on +the first brush of their introduction—a +mutual challenge, which was so far owing +to Lady Sundon’s blundering cordiality.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh! not so bad as that, Harry,” +exclaimed the good lady, who really liked +her cousin, as she liked pickles or the +preserved ginger, with regard to which he +had once been so mindful as to bring her a +jar from the West Indies. “I am quite +convinced, Lady Bell, that he needs only to +be smiled and frowned upon by one of our +sex, and to hang on our smiles and tremble +at our frowns, to be properly humbled, and +made a mighty agreeable fellow of.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Indeed, ma’am,” answered Lady Bell, +in a tone which sounded very much as if +she had said, “He may, or he may not; I +am sure I don’t care.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You are wrong, cousin,” replied Captain +Fane quickly, “I don’t pretend to be worse +or better than my neighbours, certainly; +but I do profess that where neither my +judgment nor my conscience is addressed, I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>am not particularly susceptible to the wiles +either of smiles or frowns, or for that matter +of tears.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, you wretch!” cried out even the +Misses Sundon.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why, what would you have?” remonstrated +Captain Fane; “you ladies must +submit to the fact that there are some ill-conditioned +rebels against the rule of +blandishments, while sea-horses of all horses +are the worst to tame. However, a truce +to me and my nature, a monstrously uninteresting +subject to introduce, Lady Sundon; +what have you been doing with yourself +lately?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, we have been doing what we could +when Sir Peter would spare us, so as to +make the town and society the better even +for my blowsy phiz; but I’ve had my day, +Harry, I’ve had my day. We’ve seen +Mr. Garrick take leave of the stage in the +<i>Wonder</i>, and the new Italian singer—what’s-his-name—make +his first appearance in +<i>Artaxerxes</i>. We’ve heard Dr. Dodd preach +<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>in aid of the society for the recovery of the +drowned, and been present at one of Madam +Montague’s dinners to the chimney-sweeps. +We’ve walked in the Mall and Kensington +Gardens whenever the sun would keep us in +countenance, which was not too often, when +the sulky rogue let the Thames be froze at +Mortlake during the late fall of snow. We’ve +been both to the Queen’s House and the +Mansion House, and to ever so many dinners +and routs. We’ve even had our share of +the new sickness, the influenza, which is all +the vogue, though we could have dispensed +with that token of fashion. I could not tell +you all that we’ve been and done, Cousin +Harry.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I think you’ve told me pretty well, +Cousin Sundon,” quoth Harry. “I almost +hesitate to propose that you should take a +stroll, you must all be so knocked up; no +wonder that Miss Sundon and Miss Lyddy +look as if a breath of air would blow them +away.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A fiddlestick for their being blown +<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>away! They’re quite hearty if they would +only think it. Lady Bell makes no complaint, +and she is always as fresh as paint +when a new pleasure is spoke of. She is +something like a girl; I have no patience +with girls being vapoured, sir, it is a +reproach on you men, if you understood it. +Girls were different when I was young, and +I ain’t vapoured now that I am old. If you +were to cut and shuffle in a hornpipe, like a +Jack tar on the boards, I could caper the +steps of ‘Joan Saunderson’ or ‘Nancy Dawson’ +back again. Since you won’t, let us +go the round, and see and be seen by all +means; what is life without a bit of +pleasure?”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span> + <h2 id='ch08' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER VIII.</span><br> <br>OPINIONS DIFFER.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>As the party went up-stairs, and strolled +about amongst other animated groups, +admiring what were reckoned the Gothic +portions of the Pantheon, listening to the +rising strains of the orchestra, which still +admitted the ring of laughing voices—buxom +Lady Sundon grew radiant. “Now, +ain’t this nice, Harry?” she demanded +triumphantly; “ain’t it something to come +on shore for—worth years of the sloppy, +draggle-tailed country?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“As to nice, the word is too vague. I’d +as lief not pledge myself to what you mean +by niceness,” he told her; “and I own to +being rather fonder of green fields than +<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>filthy streets, after a long tack of blue +waves.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But this ain’t filthy streets, Harry. +Now, I shall think you right down cross +and contrary, if you refuse to admit that the +Pantheon, at least, takes your fancy.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Then, not to mortify you, madam, the +Pantheon itself is not half so silly or so bad +as many places of public and private entertainment +that I’ve been to in my life. If I +were to stay on shore, and in London, I +should not mind coming sometimes to the +Pantheon.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I dare say you shouldn’t—your humble +servant, Harry, for the condescension!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Especially if I were to come across such +a man as Admiral Byron,” continued Captain +Fane, bowing low to a bluff, elderly gentleman +in passing. “He played the man when +he was no more than a middy, young sir”—Captain +Fane pointed the application by +looking over his shoulder and addressing +Sir Peter’s nephew, walking between the +Misses Sundon, and instantly beginning to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>swell with wrath because his tender years +were hinted at—“He was a castaway on a +South Sea Island, and he managed to survive +five years of hardship unparalleled in +our day, among savages. There is somebody +to look at, worth a hundred of your +beaux and belles.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And han’t I stared the man out,” declared +Lady Sundon, “till he thinks there’s +a hole in his epaulette, or a paper pinned on +his back?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It isn’t the luck of every one to be a +castaway on a South Sea Island, and to learn +a lesson from savages,” said Lady Bell. +“Beaux and belles can’t help their want of +luck. You should be fair, Captain Fane.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’ll try, Lady Bell,” he promised, “if +you’ll point out to me one man or woman of +your fine fashionables—remember, I don’t +say civilians, I hope I’m not such a swaggering +fire-eater as to confine merit to one +or both of the services—who, in his or her +different circumstances, has shown half the +ingenuity and energy, not to say resignation, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>which my friend the Admiral was privileged, +as you put it not incorrectly, to +display.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, come, sir!” cried Lady Bell with +spirit, dropping her assumption of meekness, +“I shall not have far to seek to confute +your argument, and I shall take a woman in +order to cover you with confusion. True, +I don’t say she has kindled a fire with flints, +or dug up roots with her fingers, or knocked +down birds with a stick; but I conclude +that you—an educated gentleman—consider +ingenuity and energy may be well bestowed +in other respects than in relieving mere +gross, bodily wants.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I grant you that, Lady Bell.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Do you see the lady in the silver gauze?—not +there, and that is not silver gauze, +that is white brocade, while the wearer is +only charming Lady Hesketh. No, here, +the slight young lady in the silver gauze, +with the fine hair in a wave above her forehead, +and the high aquiline nose—do you +know what she is famous for?”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>“No; I must admit my ignorance.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Not for her beauty, although you may +see she is beautiful; not for being gallant +General Conway’s daughter; not even +for being wife of my Lord Milton’s son, who +has the finest wardrobe in London—finer +even than thirty thousand a year will stand, +folks swear; for men can be as vain as +women sometimes, and a great deal more +reckless in their vanity. But Mrs. Damer +puts on a mob cap and canvas apron, and +with those little white hands wields mallet +and chisel, as well as moulds in wax and +clay. She hath done groups of animals as +true as life, and busts of men and women—their +speaking images. She is a great +sculptor, sir, such as Mr. Bacon or Mr. +Nollekens. What do you say to that?” +Lady Bell wound up her peroration by making +a profound curtsey.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is all gospel, Harry,” Lady Sundon +confirmed the account. “They tell me that +pretty stylish woman is so far left to herself +that she likes nothing better than muddling +<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>among wet blocks and splinters of stone, +and hewing away like any stonemason.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I stand corrected,” admitted Harry Fane +honestly, addressing himself to Lady Bell. +“I honour the lady both for her capacity +and determination.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And I can assure you, sir, she is not +the only woman who deserves your honour +for intellect and perseverance,” insisted +Lady Bell, woman-like, not content with +the inch conceded, but proceeding to ask a +yard. “Of course it is not given to many +women to be endowed like Mrs. Damer, but +if you knew my dear Mrs. Sundon, down at +Summerhill, how wise she is, how attentive +to all her duties, how regular and unwearied +in her studies—well!” she broke off enthusiastically, +“she shames me into solidity and +steadiness. I never have a fit of the gapes, +and I am in no way flighty when I am with +her.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“That is a great testimony,” said Captain +Fane with grave abstraction, as if he were +meditating on the force of the evidence.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>“You provoking man!” Lady Sundon +reproached him, rapping him across the +fingers with her fan, while Lady Bell bit +her lips with pique, and turned away indignant +at being laughed at, a process to +which she was not over much accustomed.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was too proud to pout, but she +had made up her mind that she would +submit to no more flouting from this impertinent, +conceited sailor, when all at once he +begged her pardon, said penitently and +agreeably that Mrs. Sundon was at least +fortunate in having such an advocate that +he could take the unknown lady’s superiority +on trust.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell felt rewarded for her gallantry +in fighting the humoursome sailor, when +she had constrained him to soften his looks +and tones, and to except not merely Mrs. +Sundon but herself in his budget of criticism—if +Lady Sundon had let the man +alone in leaving him to his better mind, and +had not, by interfering, spoilt all!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Mercy on us!” Lady Sundon ejaculated, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>“wonders will never cease; my polar +bear has paid a compliment!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Not paid a compliment—told a truth,” +Captain Fane had condescended to say +further, quite graciously.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Another, another, Harry! you’re a reformed +man on the spot—see what a pretty +woman can do—a bear that has changed its +skin!” Lady Sundon had leapt too fast to a +conclusion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I am afraid I must damp your expectation, +and shock you once more,” alleged +Captain Fane, with a perverse twinkle in his +eyes, “for I was about to add that if your +Mrs. Sundon is so wondrous wise a woman, +why did she go ‘in the galley,’ as I have +understood she did? I mean, why did she +throw herself away on so dissipated a man +and so inveterate a gambler as Gregory +Sundon, of Chevely, whose disgrace had +been so manifest and black, that he has +been suffered to drop clean out of this +corrupt enough gay world, as well as out +of his wife’s offended sight. If she was +<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>to be particular, she should have begun +sooner.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sir!” replied Lady Bell, with her hot +young generosity firing up in every word, +“I do not pretend to justify my friend in +every act of her life; and for the magnanimous +faith with which she trusted her +precious self and her fortune to the unhappy +husband who failed her, I say nothing, save +that it ill becomes even so faultless and +prudent a man, as I do not doubt Captain +Fane is, to blame her.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well said—as good as a play, Lady +Bell. Lady Bell, I’m proud of you,” protested +Lady Sundon. “Hit him hard when +you’re at it! Yes, indeed, you’re no better +than a mean scamp, though you are my own +cousin, Harry; and I did not think it of +you, for all your droll crustiness and carping +words, till Lady Bell hath opened my eyes—to +twit a fine woman with her indiscreet +tenderness to one of your own ungrateful +sex—as well kiss and tell. What have you +to say for yourself?”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>“Nothing!” answered Harry, with a +little shrug of his broad shoulders, “and +Lady Bell need not hit harder, seeing she +has hit hard enough to floor me already. +Madam, I was wrong to urge such an inconsistency +in your friend. It was ill done on +my part, as you said. I cannot do less than +make amends to her and to you by saying +that I am sorry for my unhandsome words.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Again Lady Bell was propitiated by a +new and rare flattery in finding that she +could sway and subdue not a willing slave, +not an indolent, careless adorer, but a restive +and opinionative man. For here was one +who might have had the misfortune to be a +little singular to begin with, and who, +after having been confined to ship-board +from childhood, turned up in the smooth, +accommodating world, all angles, ready-formed +prepossessions and prejudices.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Under the subtle incense, Lady Bell +looked at her antagonist more deliberately +over her fan, and out of a pair of eyes +analytically inclined.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>She settled that though he was contradictory +and a little abrupt and harsh in his +contradictions, otherwise he was not in the +least ill-mannered or boorish, but had altogether +the air of a gentleman and a man +of education, and was thus of the new +school of naval officers. He looked also a +man of sense, even of some benevolence, +when he gave way to her, and was so quick +and candid in the kind of courage which +confessed even to so small a shortcoming as +a mistaken judgment in conversation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As Lady Bell arrived at this improved +verdict, the music in chief began, and the +party had to take their seats and listen.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the concert was ended, Lady Bell +was accosted and monopolized by one after +another of her numerous friends, danglers, +and satellites, until Lady Sundon’s party +quitted the Pantheon.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span> + <h2 id='ch09' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER IX.</span><br> <br>BOULTON’S COINS AND WEDGWOOD’S DISHES.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Next morning Captain Fane called for +his cousins in Cleveland Court, to +inquire after Sir Peter and propose a party +which should be a compromise between his +ideas and theirs.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You seem to have been at so many +sights,” Captain Fane said, “that there +are only one or two left for you to see, +but as you have gone hitherto with the +multitude, I should not wonder though +you have, without any blame to your +judgments, of course, missed some choice +exhibitions.” He addressed Lady Sundon +at her fringe-loom and the young ladies +at their tambour-frames.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>“Now what may they be, Harry? We +shall be vastly obliged to you for enlightening +us.” Her ladyship was open to a +suggestion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“There are the exhibitions of Mr. Boulton’s +new coins, medals, and machinery; +and there is the show of the new Staffordshire +ware which men of science and taste +are flocking to.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Dear heart alive, are we men of +science?” remonstrated Lady Sundon; +“we’ve been to Cox’s museum, where an +artificial bird sings, and to the place kept +by the Swiss in King Street, Covent +Garden, where the effigy of a boy writes, +and the effigy of a girl draws, and another +effigy of a young lady—the marrow of +Lyddy there—plays the piano; and that +is enough science for me, if indeed, it +ain’t the black art, which it is uncommonly +like. I thought you were going to tell +of a fresh batch of wild Indians, with their +paint and war-dances; or of the last caught +syren, with her gills serving as curls, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>a fin rising on the top of her head for that +matter instead of our present fashionable +‘heads’—odd! ain’t it, that the syrens +should have the fashions at the bottom of +the sea?—or of a new fortune-teller.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What could put all these foolish things +into your head, my lady?” complained +Captain Fane.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“‘These are the least the man can have +in his eye,’ I said to myself,” she told +him for her explanation. “I am extraordinary +disappointed. No, sir; you are +a clever dog in your way, and not a bad +dog at bottom, since your bark is worse +than your bite, though you have a little +of the bulldog in you too when your temper +is fairly roused, but you have no notion +how to please and divert ladies, that’s +clear.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Very likely I have not,” answered +Captain Fane a little glumly, “but sure +I did you no disparagement when I evened +you to what delights men of parts.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, indeed, Captain Fane,” spoke up +<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>Lady Bell, her natural and high-bred +sweetness in a ferment at the reception +which had been accorded even by good-natured +Lady Sundon to the young sailor’s +overture, which was a little too affable in +its tone, perhaps, but was obliging and +kindly meant.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Farther Lady Bell hated to think that +Captain Fane would suppose women in +general, and she in particular, had not +minds above the vulgar marvels which +Lady Sundon had quoted.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If you will forgive me for saying so, +Lady Sundon,” Lady Bell gave her opinion, +“you are in the wrong box. All the first +people in town, ladies as well as gentlemen, +are running to look at the medallions and +vases. They were inspected by their +majesties in person t’other day, and the +Queen gave an order for ornaments to the +chimney-pieces of her private rooms. I +know my Mrs. Sundon would not forgive +me if I returned to the country without +having set eyes on these works. I don’t +<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>pretend to be very wise myself, but I hope +I have no objection to improving my mind, +and that I have sufficient patriotism to be +proud of the growing manufactures of my +country.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Upon my word, Lady Bell, you put +an old woman to shame,” exclaimed Lady +Sundon, always ready to admire whatever +Lady Bell said or did, and yet in earnest +in her admiration. “Hear her! a young +modish beauty evening herself to self-improvement +and patriotism like any +wizened bookworm. Have your way, child; +I am sure it is a most creditable way, +and I am glad Captain Fane has been so +mindful as to put it in your power. But +as I am a score and more of years too old +for improving my mind or patronising my +country, and my inclination ain’t in that +line, I shall devote the morning to dancing +attendance on my Sir Peter. It will help +to keep the poor soul sweet, and gain +me liberty for some more enticing occasion.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>“I think we shall be able to get on +without you, cousin.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Get away with you, fellow. You don’t +want a chaperon, Lady Bell, you yourself +are the most charming chaperon in Lon’on; +while poor Nancy and Lyddy there, that +are nigh ten years older than you, never +having had the luck to be married, can’t stir +abroad without me jogging at their elbows; +though, gracious me! my office is very +much a sinecure so far as the men are +concerned.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Good heavens! Lady Sundon, how can +you tell such stories about sister’s age and +mine?” screamed Miss Lyddy. “As for +men, if we were willing to grin and ogle—” +she bit her tongue in time to prevent herself +adding, “and to marry men older than +our father—”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I don’t know that the grinning would +do it, Lyddy,” observed the incorrigible +Lady Sundon, shaking her head; “you +haven’t teeth for grins, neither you nor +Nancy, they’re too black. But what do +<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>you say, girls, about this morning’s doings? +Is it to be ‘hey!’ for Lady Bell and cousin +Harry, with their pots and mugs, or ‘hey!’ +for a dosing and darning match at home.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Gracious, madam,” interposed Miss +Sundon peevishly, “how can you phrase +it that we should cry ‘hey!’ for anything; +though I am certain we are as fond of +being instructed and entertained as Lady +Bell or anybody.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I wish you would look sprightlier +about it then, Nancy,” recommended Lady +Sundon, “for who would come to the house, +I should like to know, if they were treated +to nothing but dismals—from Sir Peter’s +pains to your and Lyddy’s quarrels with +the weather for taking your hair out of +the curl—and not a shade of relief from +a joke or laugh to shake one’s sides and +warm one’s blood like a sip of cherry +brandy?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the party set out, Lady Bell took +care to qualify her support of the expedition +by turning over Captain Fane to walk with +<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>one of his cousins, while she walked with +the other. “I am not going to make the +man too proud,” reflected Lady Bell, with +a quiet consciousness that she had it in her +power to make a man hold up his head +among his fellows; “he is saucy enough +without that.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The winter weather was passably dry, +so that the fact of Oxford Street’s not +being paved did not materially interfere +with the ladies’ comfort. They saw a man +in the act of being whipped round Covent +Garden, but he was not in their way. His +worship the Mayor’s coach passed them, but +they were not aware of the circumstance +that he had been robbed that very morning, +in sight of his retinue, at Turnham Green, +by a single highwayman, who swore that +he would shoot whoever resisted. Though +the knowledge had travelled fast, it would +not have inflicted qualms even on the +Misses Sundon, for they were not going +out of town.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The walking-party were not so fortunate +<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>as to encounter the wild Indians, who +loomed so largely in Lady Sundon’s imagination +as one of the sights of London +this year; but they got a glimpse of Omiah, +the native of Otaheite brought home by +Captain Cook. The drawback was that the +interesting savage was not at the moment in +South Sea costume, which, perhaps, was not +exactly suited to a January day in London—on +the contrary, he formed a dingy representative +of an Englishman in a frock and +pantaloons.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the rooms where were the last clean-cut +coinage, the casts of figures in metal, +the ingenious clocks, and the skeleton models +of larger machines, which were to turn the +world upside down, Lady Bell did her best +to be interested and edified. But after all +she found her greatest fascination in Captain +Fane’s intelligent satisfaction, which +stimulated and warmed the whole man, +so that his incredulity gave way to credulity, +and in place of sardonic fault-finding, +he grew, as it sounded, quite extravagant +<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>in his praise, and became boyish in his +animation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“These are the marvels of creative mind, +Lady Bell. They are signs of battles won +over the opposing elements. I’d liefer fight +with air and water for my fellow-creatures +than fight my fellow-creatures themselves. +I’d sooner have been Mr. Boulton, of Birmingham, +or the grey stooping Scotchman +his partner, Mr. Watt, who has come up to +town about a patent, and is standing yonder +explaining his pistons and valves to a country +mechanic, than I would have been Admiral +Rodney or poor Lord Clive.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Nay, but Captain Fane, without our +Admirals and Generals where would be the +victories of peace?” objected Lady Bell, +putting up her little chin shrewdly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“True, for our comfort,” admitted Captain +Fane; “and if wishes were horses, beggars +would ride. It is one thing to command +even his Majesty’s flag-ship, and nail the +colours to the mast if need be, and another +to control the elements. There were many +<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>captains in Syracuse, but only one Archimedes. +That spare stooping man is the +Archimedes of the modern world.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And he hath the air of a tradesman,” +said one of the Miss Sundons softly, as if +resigning herself perforce to the lamentable +want of style of the modern Archimedes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Or of an old schoolmaster,” chimed in +Lady Bell mischievously, with a half inadvertent +glance of approving contrast at +Captain Fane’s stalwart, well-carried figure.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was a “very pretty” manly figure, +though it was not that of an effeminate +dandy such as Admiral Rodney had shown +himself, before his debts drove him to +France, and although it had not escaped +the professional rolling gait of the sailor.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Doubtless even so strict and wise a judge +as Harry Fane was prepared to be, felt propitiated, +whether he knew it or not, by the +invidious womanish glance which contrasted +the person of the great mechanic with that +of the obscure naval officer, and awarded the +advantage to the latter.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>“What would you have?” he said, +smiling. “Sure he has the best to his +share, and there is an old schoolmaster in +Bolt Court, at whom we should not dare to +peep, but whom ladies of quality, I am glad +to say, have paid with all the coin at their +command, for his generosity towards them.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ah! you mean the great and good Dr. +Johnson,” exclaimed Lady Bell eagerly. +“My Mrs. Sundon and I, we should have +been proud to wait on him, on our bended +knees, if we had got the opportunity. But +I fear his health is failing too much for him +to appear often in society. I did hope to +have had a glimpse of him, though I should +have half died with fear lest he had set me +down, as he is a little prone to do poor fine +ladies who do not take his fancy. But you +would not compare a man of such erudition +in letters to a mere mechanic, however ingenious +in his own line?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I should like to hear what the great +honest man of letters would have to say to +the imputation of superiority; I should like +<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>to hear what posterity will have to say,” +exclaimed Captain Fane with lively impatience. +“But I confess I have a natural +weakness for the science which provides me +with a compass, and the mechanics which +build me a ship, so that possibly I am not a +fair authority on the comparative merits of +science and literature.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sir, the very fact of your owning to +a natural weakness vouches for your impartiality +as a witness,” Lady Bell declared +with her quaint graciousness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Through what was audacious in the commendation +of so young a lady, there vibrated +an exquisite under-tone of simplicity and +nobleness. It contributed to soften still +further the crude stiffness, essential to the +naval moralist, not yet thirty, in his bearing +towards Lady Bell, against whose heartlessness +and artfulness he had forearmed himself, +when he first contemplated with unequivocal +condemnation the inconsistency of +her position as the youngest and loveliest of +dowagers.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>When Captain Fane proceeded to escort +his ladies to the exhibition of Wedgwood +ware, he found that there was no further +call for him to point out excellencies, extol +achievements, and elicit the faint echo of +his own enthusiasm. Lady Bell especially +was in unaffected delight. Her whole artistic +nature was stirred; she was excited to the +highest enjoyment.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell flew from fountain to statue, +from plateau to vase. She hung over the +nymphs, with their garlands, over the +groups of flowers—herself the most graceful +nymph and blooming flower that met the +spectator’s eye.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She was on her own ground. The ware +of Wedgwood and the designs of Flaxman +were, indeed, infinitely beyond her poor +little performances in “composition” for +seals and patterns for ruffles; but the spirit +of the two was not so wide apart as to prevent +Lady Bell’s entering heart and soul +into the finished work before her, and rejoicing +in its culmination.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>“If Mr. Watt is a stooping, spectacled +man, whose grey hair needs no powder, as +powder will not conceal its weather-worn +whiteness, what do you say to all these +elegant forms and materials owing their +origin to a small-pox-seamed working man, +wanting a leg?” Captain Fane tried her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She only laughed. “I should say he was +Vulcan himself, only Vulcan was a smith, +not a potter. But I was thinking of the +shield of Achilles, of which I have read in +Mr. Pope’s ‘Homer.’ I should not mind +what he was who could shed beauty around +him. Look at these sky-blues, sea-greens, +shell lilacs, and pearl-whites. Notice that +cup on the stalk, Captain Fane; what a +globe, what delicately-raised birds! I vow +I can count their feathers in flight along the +rim. But I am forgetting to thank you, +sir,” exclaimed Lady Bell, stopping on a +sudden thought, and turning to her conductor +with frank gratitude. “You have +given me a very happy morning. And not +only that, but on many another morning +<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>when I am dabbling feebly enough with my +box of colours and my embroidery chenilles, +I shall think of this morning, and recall to +my profit, sure, as well as to my pleasure, +Mr. Boulton’s coins and medals, and Mr. +Wedgwood and Mr. Bentley’s least dish.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Will you make me happy in return, +Lady Bell, by conferring on me an additional +favour?” said Harry Fane with an +impulsive stammer that was directly opposed +to his usual calmness, and yet was by no +means unbecoming in the grave young man. +“Will you do me the honour to accept +this cup from me, and keep it as a trophy +of Wedgwood and a memento of what you +have been so good as to call a happy +morning?” and the fellow who was known +for his restiveness and captiousness, spoke +the words humbly, as if he were addressing +them to a queen.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“With the greatest pleasure, sir,” answered +Lady Bell, without a shade of reluctance, +and with a sigh of pure satisfaction and +exultation in the promised possession. “I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>have been longing to make a purchase of a +small sample of the wonders before me, to +take it home and preserve it as one of my +cherished treasures. But I feared that my +shallow purse, already well emptied with +town requisitions and extravagances, could +not compass what I desired. I am trespassing +on your friendliness; but besides being +yourself a lover of art, you are a kinsman +of my kind hostess, and I declare, through +Sir Peter, you are related to my Mrs. +Sundon.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell slightly impaired the winning +ingenuousness of her acceptance by thus +arguing it out, in order to justify it in her +own eyes. But she atoned for the falling +off by the evident gratification with which +she hailed a thread of connection between +Captain Fane and Mrs. Sundon.</p> + +<p class='c008'>So agreeably was Lady Bell persuaded of +the slender link, that she helped the open-handed +sailor, Miss Sundon and Miss Lyddy, +to choose a piece of Wedgwood ware for +Mrs. Sundon, in addition to the pieces for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>Lady Sundon and the girls, and readily +undertook to take care of the former piece, +convey and present it to Mrs. Sundon, along +with the almanack for her friend, and the +set of flappers for Caro, which Lady Bell +had in store.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell made no comment, though she +could hardly have overlooked a circumstance +which she might attribute, as the +Sundons attributed it, to her higher rank. +There was the same characteristic difference +between Lady Bell’s cup and the plates and +saucers of the others that there had been +between Benjamin’s mess and the messes of +his brethren, as sent them from the hands of +Joseph, when Jacob’s sons went in and ate +with the ruler of Egypt. Lady Bell’s piece +of Wedgwood ware was five times more +valuable than the other pieces.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span> + <h2 id='ch10' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER X.</span><br> <br>A PARTY ON THE WATER.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Captain Fane, young wiseacre as he +was, reckoned foolishly with little knowledge +of the world, and less knowledge of +woman’s nature, that the next time he met +Lady Bell he should take up the acquaintance +at the very point at which he had left +it off, on the lucky hit of his introducing +the ladies to the galleries of science and art.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Far from it, every incident, every influence +was different. <i>Dramatis personæ</i> had +entered on the scene who were as new as +they were distasteful to Harry Fane; but +they were not new to Lady Bell, and they +and their fellows were possessed of long +established claims on her regard.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>True, some weeks had passed, during +which Captain Fane had been before his +chiefs of the Admiralty, and kept hard at +work on his professional business; but a +few weeks were nothing, in Harry Fane’s +estimation, to warrant this transformation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When Captain Fane employed his next +disengaged morning, in repairing to his +cousin’s house in Cleveland Court, he found +a gay company marshalled there, about to +take advantage of an unusually fine February +day to have a party on the water.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Well come, Harry!” cried hearty Lady +Sundon; “we only lacked a naval man to +sit in the end of our barge.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“We shall be glad to avail ourselves of +your experience, sir,” Lady Bell, whose +party it was specially, was polite enough to +say; but it was said carelessly, and she did +not wait for an answer, as both her ears +were monopolized.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The one ear was filled with the whispers +of an affected, lisping woman, into whose +affectation and lisp there could yet be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>infused such a judiciously-mixed spice of +wit and scandal as very often rendered her +whispers irresistible to their hearers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell’s remaining ear was kept fixed +by the honeyed sharpness of tongue of a +long, lazy, handsome man, in the lingering +exquisiteness of costume of a purple-velvet +coat and breeches and white silk stockings, +double vest—one white, the other jonquil +colour—two watch guards, a solitaire, diamond +buckles, and a little hat.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Beside this full-fledged, fine-hued gentleman, +Captain Fane, in his plain blue and +white uniform, looked a very sober, and, in +his present humour, a somewhat gruff bird; +but Harry took up his gold-laced hat on the +amount of encouragement he received, and +went with the company.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was the more induced to join the +party because he was all at once seized with +a burning wish and necessity to ascertain +the precise terms on which Lady Bell +Trevor stood with two of her companions.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Partial and superficial as Captain Fane’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>acquaintance with the fashionable world was, +the pair were too marked for him not to +have a chance of being familiar with their +antecedents.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir George Waring and Mrs. Lascelles +were connected by more than an accidental +association, though they had escaped the +ignominy of a miserable bond of union. +The owners of the names were continually +to be seen together at the same gay parties, +some of which were of a debatable character.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was well understood that the couple +were fast allies, though the nature of the +alliance remained a mystery. Was it +friendship among the heartless, as there is +honour among thieves? Lady Bell honestly +believed so.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Was it true, as some said, that Sir George +had bought over Mrs. Lascelles by a large +debt won from her at piquet, to back him in +all his endless idle schemes and intrigues, +and to play into his hand in the fickle, evil +aims of the life at once of a Sir Fribble +and a Lovelace?</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>Did the solution lie in an unauthorised, +low-toned love between the wickedly good-natured +pair, who, with the wisdom of the +serpent, held the passion in check, and preserved +their cool, careless mask, trusting +faintly that death might one day interpose +in their behalf, and remove Mrs. Lascelles’s +husband, or waiting deliberately till the +love rooted in ashes and fed on malignant +vapours, should be surely and for ever +extinguished?</p> + +<p class='c008'>As for Mrs. Lascelles’s husband, he played +no prominent part in the drama, and put in +no claim for sympathy. He was as basely +indifferent as the others; he simply tolerated +his wife, and accorded her his protection, so +long as she did not outrage it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In reality there was no public scandal +concerning these people; but Harry Fane +could not endure to see Lady Bell Trevor +with them, on intimate terms, and she was +still seated between the two in the barge.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Lascelles wriggled as a serpent +wriggles its glossy spots, and shot forth +<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>unholy green fire, dragon-like, on the right +of Lady Bell.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the left lounged Sir George, as a +splendid sleek tiger steps stealthily before it +springs, and even when it is too gorged and +not greedy enough to spring, bites in wanton +playfulness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was so ignorant of the true +nature of such persons, that she stopped +short with admiring their orange and sable +glories; she was tickled and taken with, +rather than repelled, by the green fire of +Mrs. Lascelles’s brilliant scandal, and the +playful biting of Sir George’s half-caressing, +highly cultivated cynicism,—something altogether +different from Harry Fane’s wholesome, +blustering criticism.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In addition to Lady Bell’s ignorance, her +perceptions were slightly warped, so that +she was disposed to be but too lenient to the +hole whence she herself had been dug, and +the pit from which she had been drawn.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The barge swept along, among other and +less ornamental barges laden with hay, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>coals, sheep, and pigs, past wharfs and +piers, under bridges, below balconies and +projecting stories of buildings, by gables of +houses—until it left stone and lime behind, +and reached green banks and lawns, though +the trees still stretched brown, gnarled, or +drooping boughs, sharp and unclothed, +against the blue of the sky. There was just +the dimly sweet, green budding of a fine +February to tell that spring was at hand.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell smiled brightly and chatted +freely with her chosen companions.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane had no resource but to +fume secretly, and seek, as he steered, to be +contented with the companionship of the +Sundons. There was one safeguard in +Lady Sundon’s irrepressible good fellowship, +which was restrained by no extreme +delicacy or humility, that it combated successfully +her instinctive homage to rank and +fashion, and prevented her from being left +entirely out of any group in her vicinity.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles’s blandness,—the +great quality on which they +<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>prided themselves, in the absence of all +higher qualities,—might not have remained +unalloyed with insolence. The gentleman +and lady might have rebuffed what they +regarded as offensive intrusion in Lady +Sundon’s freedom of speech, seeing that the +pair attached themselves to the Sundons +solely on Lady Bell’s account. But dear, +delightful, naïve little Lady Bell had her +weaknesses, which her friends were quick +enough to perceive and respect in time. +One of these weaknesses was, that she +would not submit to see snubbing administered +in her presence to the hospitable +country baronet’s wife and her absurdly +gawky step-daughters, with whom she had +the misfortune to be domiciled in town.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Neither would the froward goddess consent +at present to be rescued, to quit these +Sundons and put herself under the guardianship +of Mrs. Lascelles, who, if she and Sir +George had got their will, would have had +Lady Bell, without delay, cut the whole connection, +even so far as her dear Mrs. Sundon.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>Mrs. Sundon was a true woman of quality, +and of the world, indeed, but she had abandoned +her sphere, and might live to turn +queen’s evidence against her old world, any +day. She was blue, stuck up, and tiresomely +virtuous for a young woman. Lady +Bell spoilt herself by quoting and aping this +model.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles must +set to work cautiously in doing their benevolent +“possible” to cure Lady Bell of this +and other defects. Rome was not built in +one day, and neither in one day would a +wilful girl’s rampant staunchness and warm-heartedness +be converted into a conveniently +faithless and lukewarm state of the affections.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the meantime, Lady Sundon had +insisted on drawing everybody’s attention +to Chelsea, because she had once assisted at +a “whim” there, when she had gone over +Chelsea Hospital.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The building had, at this time, its +wounded soldiers who had been disabled at +<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>Bunker’s Hill, and some of whom Captain +Fane had brought home in his frigate.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was a little talk of the engagement, +in which the general company joined. It +was notable that Sir George, who was a +carpet knight, treated the resistance as a +sorry trifle, and always called the men who +had instituted it, “rebels.” But Captain +Fane, who had seen service, and fought +stoutly against the very men, merely named +them “provincials,” and stated plainly that +they were right, when they declared that +they had not lost the battle, since, though +they were driven out of the entrenchments, +they had succeeded in no less an achievement +than that of blockading the English +army.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell inquired with interest after +Captain Fane’s own adventures, of which he +was specially unwilling to speak in such a +company. But he told what some of his +messmates had done under fire: how they +had been lying waiting their turn from the +surgeons, when red-hot shot had passed +<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>once and again through the cockpit; notwithstanding, +it had spared the <i>Thunderbomb’s</i> +lads, though it was only for them to +be lodged, by his Majesty’s and the country’s +kindness, in the other hospital, Greenwich.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I suppose the dear timber-toes prefer +their beef salt and their tobacco stale for +the sake of old associations,” suggested Sir +George mincingly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Then, I’m sure it is no kindness to +deny them their sweet tastes,” followed up +Mrs. Lascelles. “There need not be these +rows about the Lords of the Admiralty +helping themselves to the funds. The Lords +of the Admiralty are always helping themselves +to something, worse than the Lords +of the Treasury,—but both lords must live. +Oh, forgive me, Captain Fane, and don’t +look so fierce. I dare say it is the shore +that demoralises your friends.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I dare say it is, madam, if they are +demoralised, which I, their servant, have +no business to take for granted,” replied +Captain Fane angrily.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span> + <h2 id='ch11' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XI.</span><br> <br>DISCORD.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>“I know that the shore demoralised my +friend Lady Kitty Lake,” continued +Mrs. Lascelles benignly; “she could not +be prevailed on to leave it after she had +reached it again. But what do you think +her Commodore did to her, my dear Lady +Bell? Kept her under closed hatches—whatever +these may be—with no more light +than half a tallow candle to make her head and +do herself up, whenever the ship had taken +a prize, and there was an insinuating enemy +on board. However, she stole a march on +her tyrant. She amused herself in the +middle of some shocking sea-fight, by +getting herself up in an imitation of her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>husband’s uniform. You must know she +is a big, imposing-looking woman, and he +a little ton of a man, as fat as one of the +pigs in the coops, copper colour in complexion, +bristling all over with hogs’ hair, +and in the habit of amusing himself with +cursing and swearing through a speaking-trumpet. +I believe he is known as the +‘Cursing Commodore,’ though how cursing +should be a means of distinguishing him +from other commodores, I am at a loss to +say. Well, the moment the firing ceased, +Lady Kitty, metamorphosed into a creditable +officer, ran upon deck, and was in time to +get the enemy to deliver up to her his +sword, which she returned with a genteel +bow. The Commodore was so frightened +for the trick’s being noised abroad—and he +laughed at, if not superseded—that he was +forced to connive at it, and so lost the +opportunity of behaving with his usual +brutality.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Allow me to tell you, madam,” interposed +Captain Fane, very sternly for the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>occasion, “that Commodore Lake has the +reputation of being a most humane, as well +as a very gallant officer in his squadron, to +which I have the honour to belong.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’m quite easy, sir,” lisped Mrs. Lascelles, +without a second’s awkwardness in +the concession; “I tell the story as it was +told to me. Perhaps you have also the +pleasure of knowing my friend Lady Kitty.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, madam; and I conjecture that I +should not feel myself at all worthy of the +acquaintance,” growled Harry Fane.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, I don’t know that, sir,” urged Mrs. +Lascelles blandly. “Lady Kitty makes +every allowance; particularly when, poor +soul! she is a prisoner in a hideous den of +a ship, with none but you amiable tars to +make eyes at, in order to pass her time.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now, can’t you be amiable, Harry,” +said Lady Sundon, in an audible aside, “as +madam gives you credit for being without +too much reason? Yes, I assure you, +madam,” declared Lady Sundon, in a louder +key, and directly addressing Mrs. Lascelles, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>“if my cousin had been on ship-board with +your Lady Kitty, he would have been +mighty proud to be made eyes at by so +distinguished a lady, and would have done +his best to entertain her with his books, and +maps, and specimens. He is a fellow of +parts, though he don’t do himself justice, or +lay himself out to be agreeable.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What a pity!” exclaimed Mrs. Lascelles +sleepily.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ain’t it?” responded Lady Sundon, +with animation. “I often tell him so. +There! Harry, do you hear that?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Captain Fane is obliged to you for telling +me and the world what he takes such pains +to hide under a bushel,” remarked Mrs. +Lascelles; “but Lady Kitty is like myself,—she +don’t much affect books and maps.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No more do I,” said Lady Sundon +cordially; “and I wish Harry would throw +them aside, and cultivate company manners.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“La! you know you don’t practise what +you preach,” objected Miss Sundon, who +<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>had been engrossed with admiration of Mrs. +Lascelles and Sir George, but who felt that +it was time to vindicate the superior delicacy +of herself and her sister from any suspicion +of complicity with Lady Sundon’s breezy +vigour. “You are always professing to +sister and me, Lady Sundon, when we try +to hold you again, to get you to be quiet, +and to adopt that repose which is so necessary +and becoming to a delicate female—that +you despise company manners.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Because I ain’t a delicate female, child, +and I am your father’s wife, the mistress of +you and Lyddy and the whole house, as I +can tell all concerned,” said Lady Sundon +a little indignantly. “If I were a bad +mistress of Sir Peter’s family you would not +venture to speak so to me; therefore, I can +well afford to let your foolish tongue wag +without minding it,” continued Lady Sundon, +rapidly cooling down and recovering +her habitual good humour. “Besides, can’t +you see that I am too old to learn company +manners, as I am too old to improve my +<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>mind, which I was telling you t’other day, +Lady Bell?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Don’t learn anything that is foreign to +you, dear Lady Sundon.” Lady Bell forbade +any change. “Be always yourself, +your best self.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And I shall crave leave, without any +permission granted,” spoke up Captain +Fane, “to remain myself, even my worst +self, rather than take a leaf out of another +man’s book, say Sir George Waring’s.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sir, I am honoured by figuring as your +example.” Sir George nodded slightly, and +took snuff.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was vexed by the turn the +conversation was taking, and the utter want +of harmony in her company. Of what good +the clear, curling water, the precocious +spring weather, the delightful gliding motion +of the boat which the rowers were +sending along so smoothly to green Richmond +and Hampton—if quarrelling were +the order of the day?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Lascelles might not dislike it at the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>expense of Lady Bell and her host’s family, +because it would form a tit-bit of conversation +to retail, well spiced and served hot, in +the next party which Mrs. Lascelles should +enter.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir George might not mind. This +fashionable goddess and god were somewhat +above human feeling, and could take their +sport out of the discomfiture of others. +But these others were troubled, and showed +themselves in their worst colours, and unreasonable +Lady Bell blamed Captain Fane +as the cause. Why was he so stern in +contradicting Mrs. Lascelles’s incredible +story of Lady Kitty Lake? Where was +the use of contradicting it at all, when +nobody believed it, and when it was not +meant to be believed? Why was he so +rude to Sir George Waring?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell tried to make a diversion in +the conversation as the boat was approaching +Richmond. She began to remark upon +the houses and their occupants.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then the attention of Sir George and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>Mrs. Lascelles became concentrated on a +white house in the background, while they +expatiated on the merits and misfortunes of +its owner.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is enough to make a fellow doubt all +good,” protested Sir George, with something +like melancholy energy, “to think of +the fate of poor dear Lady Di, consigned +from the tender mercies of a fool only to +those of a brute!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And she so clever to be twice taken +in,” protested Lady Bell, with soft wonder. +“She is another Mrs. Damer, Captain +Fane.” She turned to Harry in explanation, +thinking to propitiate the bear, and +seeking to allay a little twinge of conscience +where her sweeping censure of that gentleman +was concerned.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Had he not been attentive and kind to +her on a recent occasion? By whose fault +after all had he been suffered to fall into +neglect, or to be twitted and tormented that +day, until he had assumed an attitude of +marked hostility to those around him?</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>“We are speaking of Lady Di Beauclerk, +who can paint like a Breughel or a Sneyders,” +finished Lady Bell.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I dare say, sir”—Mrs. Lascelles came +between the couple with her affectation of +artlessness—“you prefer a simpler, shorter +road to excellence. You think Lady Di +would have been better employed if she had +been tossing pancakes, or hemming dish-clouts.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I don’t know about simpler, shorter +roads,” cried Captain Fane defiantly, “but +I confess I prefer straight lines, and I have +no pity to waste on crooked ones. I do +think that your paragon, Lady Di, would +have been a vast deal better employed in +bearing—ay, even in seeking to better the +enormities of one sinner, than in making a +trial, for a change, by the aid of the law of +divorce, how she should like the enormities +of another. And when she finds that she +cannot abide the second any more than the +first, she raises a precious pother, forsooth! +because she is properly punished.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>Lady Bell was aggrieved, even shocked, +by this plain speaking. Lady Di had been +so heavily punished for her errors, that she +had arrived at their being condoned, and +had come to be treated herself as a sort of +cherished pet, not by her own set alone, +but by wiser men and women.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Who or what was this sailor, that he +should roughly rend social veils, tear +asunder well-bred illusions, and sit in judgment +on his fellow-creatures, whose fearful +stumbling-blocks and torturing temptations +he could never fathom?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell would have nothing more to +say to Captain Fane. She bestowed her +entire regard on Sir George and Mrs. +Lascelles. When the party landed and +walked up to Hampton Court, Lady Bell +went with her particular allies without +looking over her shoulder. She suffered +them to lead her through the rooms which +ambition, in its ostentation and prodigality, +had built, and she lingered especially in the +“Beauty-room.” She made as if she were +<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>absorbed by the meretricious, un-English +seeming beauties, and the unedifying traditions +which they had left behind them in +the gossip of Gramont, quoted aptly and +with adroit reticence by Sir George.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She paid no heed on this occasion to the +Dutch garden, the long alleys, the goodly +boughs, the bridge across the river, with +the pure blue sky over all—she treated +these as if they might be left out of the +count, and as if they did not deserve her +notice.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Sir George took her into the “Maze,” +and it was on Sir George that she called, +when she was weary of bewilderment, to +unravel the labyrinth, and find her a mode +of exit.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir George finally conducted Lady Bell +to the village inn, where the party were to +dine, and seated her at the head of the +table, in the rustic tea-room, as the queen +of the feast.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell allowed the particularity of +this homage. She received it all—either as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>if she were indifferent to what it ought to +tend, or as if she had never heard that Sir +George was a notorious breaker of women’s +hearts, a hardened Lothario, whose wings +no woman had been able to clip, though he +had been fluttering round women from his +whelpdom to his somewhat jaded prime of +puppydom.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In that prime Sir George was still slightly +Harry Fane’s junior, while Sir George was +far nearer an Adonis by nature, with every +personal point immeasurably better brought +out by art. But though Sir George had +not faced a bronzing climate or a battering +service, the high-pressure atmosphere of +fashionable dissipation in which he had +flourished, was more telling than either +alternative. In spite of his baptismal +register, Sir George in all his elegance +looked not half so fresh and hardly so young +as Captain Fane. Manliness took some indemnification, +but such indemnification has +not always been valued. There have been +women to whom such a world-worn hero as +<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>Sir George is irresistibly attractive. There +are women to this day, if their qualified +annalists do not lie, who prize such a reputation +as Sir George Waring’s.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This was not the reputation of an honest +fellow, a true friend, a brave worker, a +gallant gentleman, a reverent and sincere +Christian, even in sorry days, for the most +part, where Christianity was concerned. +But it was the reputation of a man gnawed +to the core by the rust of selfishness and +self-conceit, who could sneer with the +finished grace of a cold-hearted man of the +world, pluming himself on having ate of the +tree of the knowledge of good and evil—on +the evil side alone, having summarily rejected +the good as unworthy of his consideration.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Did Lady Bell belong to the order of +women who admire such men? It looked +as if this man were to her taste; and to +give the devil his due, your fine gentleman, +when he had everything his own way, +could be pleasant—few pleasanter among +<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>the best of good people. The very absence +of feeling, and presence of heartless good +nature, invested Sir George with a kind of +airy agreeability and versatility.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span> + <h2 id='ch12' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XII.</span><br> <br>THE LITTLE DINNER AT HAMPTON, WITH MUSIC ON THE WATER.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>In the course of the little dinner in the +Hampton tea-room, Sir George would +not only not sit down till the rest of the +party were seated, but he would supersede +a regular waiter to wait upon his companions. +It might have been for the +peculiar satisfaction of waiting on Lady +Bell, but certainly he did not confine his +cares to that quarter of the table. He, the +finest gentleman in the room, but that was +saying little, did the whole waiting. He +changed plates and placed glasses, and +brought round sauces, so neatly and so +comically, with such cleverness, taste, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>devotion, making amends to everybody, as +it were, for all his previous shortcomings—not +caring, though his own meal were cold, +or though he had not a meal at all—that it +was hard, before so patent a proof, not to +think him unselfish as well as delightful.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Upon my word,” mumbled Lady Sundon, +with her mouth full of cutlet, “Sir +George is the charmingest man going—he +beats the women out and out, even you, +Lady Bell. I don’t wonder that nobody +can say nay to him.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Lascelles did not appear so bent on +redeeming her character; she still made +wry faces and turned up her nose at the +pickled walnuts and the cherry pie.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell was in her element. “I +wonder if there are any cows here,” she +cried, peeping out of the window behind +her. “If there had been such a Whitefoot +as we have at Summerhill, I might have +run out and milked her and whipped you a +syllabub in no time. Yes, I can whip +syllabubs, Mrs. Lascelles, you need not look +<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>incredulous, and strain gooseberry fool too, +only this is not the season of the year for +gooseberries.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ain’t it?” inquired Mrs. Lascelles with +languid innocence.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Gracious, madam! did you not know +that we hadn’t gooseberries in February?” +questioned Lady Sundon, staring goggle-eyed +at this curious piece of ignorance.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell went on without paying any +heed to Mrs. Lascelles’ affectation. “If +my Mrs. Sundon or Master Charles were +here they would bear out my story.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“By bribery and corruption, only too +excusable in such a court,” argued Sir +George. “But who may Master Charles be +when he is at home? An overgrown baby, +as his name would imply, or a wild man +of the woods, eh, Lady Bell?” asked Sir +George with privileged freedom, while preparing +to make his own dinner, like the +most frugal of hermits, on bread and milk. +“No, don’t press any grosser fare upon me,” +he waved off the eagerness of his friends +<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>to repay his benefits. “I do enjoy an +Arcadian meal at times, when I have not +only the felicity of being in Arcady, but +of being with nymphs in Arcady,” Sir +George bowed, with his hand on his heart.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is fine to have the command of such +language,” said Lady Sundon, holding up +her hands.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But about this Master Charles,” Sir +George returned to the subject; “can he, +after partaking of such syllabubs and gooseberry +fools, be still a ruddy youth, with +great hands and feet?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell laughed, blushed, and winced +a little for her friend. Beside Sir George +Master Charles would appear ruddy, and +his Lumley-bought gloves and boots did +not tend to diminish the natural size of his +hands and feet; but where was the harm—in +the ruddiness especially, unless she had +learnt to despise rude health, like the Misses +Sundon? They had been putting severe +restraint on themselves, that they might +not taste more than a morsel, after being +<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>hours on the water, not so much to bear +Sir George company, for they had not foreseen +his temperance, as to display their +own ethereal appetites.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Harry Fane had watched Lady Bell +narrowly. “She is not only of the world +worldly, she is as heartless as the others,” +was his scornful conclusion. “She is +ashamed of the mere recollection of some +poor befooled country fellow, whatever he +may be, better than this mocking jackanapes; +but what does it matter to me?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A penny for your thoughts, Harry,” +cried Lady Sundon, “or if you won’t give +us them, propose a toast, do something for +the good of the company.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I drink to you, then, cousin, since you +have started the idea,” replied Captain +Fane, so soberly that it was almost gloomily, +after he found that he could not escape, and +that the attention of the party was directed +to him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A plague on the lad! to give an old +married woman who might be his mother,” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>remonstrated Lady Sundon, “but if you +are all so kind, thanks to you,” and Lady +Sundon beamed radiantly on the raised +glasses.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Now, Lady Bell, I’m ready for Master +Charles,” suggested Sir George, holding up +his glass of milk.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Nothing of the kind,” said Lady Bell, +getting nettled. “At least Master Charles +is not a milksop; supposing you will pledge +in no better, you must pledge yourself, Sir +George. I give ‘Sir George Waring,’ and +I couple my toast with a sentiment: ‘May +we persevere in and profit by simplicity.’”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I respond to your toast with the humblest +gratitude, and I drink your sentiment +with all the pleasure in life, for have I not +profited by simplicity already this day?” +rejoined Sir George, with perfect good-humour, +looking not a whit annoyed, but +rather gratified, by Lady Bell’s poor little +wit being spent upon him—a cheerful nonchalance +which put Lady Bell to shame.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Affronted with herself, Lady Bell began +<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>hastily to talk of the cockle-shells which +had been found by the bushel under one of +the floors of Somerset House; and that led +to a discussion of the exchange which the +Queen had made in giving up Somerset +House for Buckingham House.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The discussion paved the way for Mrs. +Lascelles descanting on the petition of the +maids of honour that they might get a +compensation in lieu of supper, which was +worth seventy pounds more salary.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When the party went back to the boat, +the day was terminating in the rosiest sunset +which ever breathed of spring, youth, +and promise.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I vow we must be in Arcady,” repeated +Sir George. With all his pretence at fine +language, he had just the tiniest spark of +the soul of a lover of nature. Yet the glow +which blushed on the water and shone on all +the faces, and was only the brighter and the +gladder for the chill bleakness of winter +scarcely forsaken, awoke some small response +even in his artificial nature.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>As for Captain Fane, he sat with his cap +in his hand, letting the breeze blow in his +hair, looking down the river towards the +open sea, wishing he were away in his +ship. Life was bad enough on ship-board +sometimes, in the depths of tyranny, ignorance, +profanity, and mutiny; but there the +mass of men, even at their worst, were toilsome +men in rough earnest. There, in the +night-watches, a man could be alone with +sea and sky, until he forgot the very existence +of heartless fine ladies and expert +actors of fine gentlemen.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“We want only music to make the hour +complete,” said Sir George. “Lady Bell, +might I beg—?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell hesitated, then yielding to the +spirit of the hour, commenced to sing an air +from the popular opera.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir George struck in with a mellow +second, singing being one of this fine gentleman’s +accomplishments, as well as playing +on the flute and the flageolet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The song was warmly applauded by all +<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>save Captain Fane. Even Lady Sundon +praised, while she frankly admitted that she +did not comprehend a word of the jargon, +“but nevertheless do let us have some more +of it.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“We shall have these boats following us, +Lady Sundon,” objected Harry Fane, looking +round sharply from where he was steering, +and indicating, among the work-a-day +barges, two boats filled with company, that +had been attracted like themselves to a row +on the river by a day borrowed from April +and set in the end of February. These +boats had already been drawn into the wake +of the first by the singing.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What though the boats do follow, they +ain’t going to run us down,” stout Lady +Sundon made light of the demur; “you +are becoming quite a kill-joy, Harry +Fane.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was an extraordinary sensation for Lady +Bell to have the propriety of her behaviour +doubted by a man—a sailor—before these +pinks of fashion, Sir George and Mrs. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>Lascelles, who had been contributing to put +Lady Bell at her ease.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She disliked the ruggedness of Captain +Fane as much as she liked the suavity of +Sir George, which no sauciness of hers +could disturb, for she had been saucy in +substituting Sir George’s own name as a +toast which he might drink in milk.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell looked Harry Fane in the face +and challenged Sir George to accompany +her in something which Lady Sundon would +approve—“Begone, dull care,” or “Pray +Goody, cease,” a challenge which Sir George +accepted, nothing loth.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But before the first song was concluded, +one of the boats in the rear shot across +the bow of the Sundons’ boat, and three +or four excited men, in white vests and +rich coats like Sir George’s, threatened to +upset both of the craft as they gesticulated +violently, while they shouted—</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Heyday! Waring, hold on! What +little opera-girl have you got there? Here, +pitch her over to us, that she may tip us +<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>a stave. We’ve been dining at Kew, and +we’ll engage to troll, among us, as good +an accompaniment as you can contrive with +your single pipe, sweet though it be.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Hold off! Annesley, Gower; mind +what you’re about. You’re absurdly wrong, +I tell you, and if you don’t set yourselves +right, by heavens! I’ll have to take the +correcting of you into my own hands,” +called back Sir George, frowning blackly +for once in his life.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is true, confound him!” cried one +of the strange gentlemen, letting his boat +fall off. “He’s in other company; yonder +is Mrs. Lascelles—who would have thought +it?—and there is an avenging fury of a +naval officer porting helm. Good afternoon, +Sir George, good afternoon to you,” dropped +more faintly over the water.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell had shrunk into herself +abashed, recalled to her senses, and deeply +wounded alike in her self-respect and her +pride.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Not all the solicitations and excuses of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>Sir George and Mrs. Lascelles could make +Lady Bell immediately forget the indignity +to which she had exposed herself, or forgive +them for promoting the exposure, though +she was silent on her feelings, and as willing +as the others to welcome a diversion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The day was so complete in its spring +character, that at sundown a little cloud of +midges seemed to start into life and hover +in the air.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“How short their day is!” said Lady +Bell regretfully for the ephemera. “I +know they are only creatures of a day, but +to come and go so soon,—if they had waited +for a few more months, they might have +danced through a few more hours, and not +been pinched by so sharp a death. Who +knows?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My dear creature,—forgive me; my +best Lady Bell,” Sir George corrected +himself, “the midges have been highly +honoured, even before you condescended +to pity them. They have more than served +their purpose,—they have helped to furnish +<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>an illusion for us, that this February day +by the calendar, is in the merry month of +May by our experience, and that Hampton +is Arcady. Now, here we are past Chelsea, +fast coming back to the coarse dissipation +of the garish town and the cold winds of +March; what should remain to the midges, +but to be swept aside with the illusion?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell turned away her head and +shut her eyes for a moment, she did not +wish to see even the midges swept aside. +She did not like the philosophy of which +she and hers formed always the centre. +She had not consented to view life as a +rainbow-hued but hollow mockery, a mere +series of convenient, spangled illusions.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span> + <h2 id='ch13' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XIII.</span><br> <br>A VISIT TO LEICESTER FIELDS.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Captain Fane, of his own free will, +would not have paid another visit to +Cleveland Court, before he returned to his +ship. So far as it rested with him, he had +made up his mind—a great deal too tartly +for perfect indifference—to have nothing +more to do with fine ladies, and to turn +his back on fine ladies’ entertainers, so +long as they were cumbered with such +troublesome guests.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Captain Fane had business with Sir +Peter, who was, indeed, about to appoint +Harry Fane one of the guardians to his +young son, and so punctilious and conscientious +a young man as Harry Fane +<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>could not see it his duty to renounce this +trust because circumstances had rendered +it distasteful to him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Thus it happened, that while Captain +Fane felt scandalised by the manner in +which Lady Bell Trevor had suffered herself +to float doubly with the tide, in the +water-party, while he kept telling himself +caustically that he need not have expected +anything else, and continued setting his +face, more like a flint than ever, against +fashionable frivolity and levity—he yet +found himself on the steps of Sir Peter +Sundon’s house.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And at that moment Lady Bell, attended +by her maid, tripped out in her calèche +and with her hands clasped in her muff, +clearly starting on an expedition.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell distanced and dumbfounded +Captain Fane, who was unfamiliar with the +changes of mind and revolutions in tactics +of even the staidest and most demure of +womankind.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She stopped him as he was about to pass +<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>her with a formally low bow, by holding +out a friendly little hand, and bestowing +on him the unsolicited information, that +she was bound for the great painter in +Leicester Fields, who had made so fine a +picture of Commodore Keppel.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She was not a sitter herself, but she had +made interest to see the paintings which +Sir Joshua Reynolds had on hand.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She knew that she should never be able +to look upon her daubs after this morning, +but, woman-like, she must go and meet her +fate, though it were her demolition.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Joshua’s pictures were works of +genius in his line, equal to Mr. Boulton’s +and Mr. Wedgwood’s exhibitions; therefore, +she ventured to offer Captain Fane +the benefit of her ticket, as a poor return +for his former kindness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She was all alone, save her maid, Rogers, +because Lady Sundon was engaged with +Sir Peter, and the Misses Sundon could +not stand the smell of paint without the +risk of incurring megrim or vertigo. She +<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>was more fortunate—but then she had +always dabbled in paints, and so was used +to the odour.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Before Captain Fane knew what he was +about, he had turned, and was walking +away by her side in acceptance of her invitation. +Neither did he detest or despise +himself for his weakness, as might have +been expected.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had succeeded, without a +word of confession or acknowledgment, by +the shy, wistful appeal of her eyes as she +prattled to him, in making him comprehend +that she had seen that he was right and +she was wrong in their respective opinions +of much that had happened at the water-party. +She implied that she was sorry for +having offended and alienated him; that +she had resolved on following, in future, +rational pursuits, instead of mere idle +pleasure-hunting,—witness her early homage +to art this morning.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane could not even accuse himself +of meddling in a matter which was none +<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>of his, far less could he accuse himself of +madly foolish motives.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Was it not in some measure the business +of every honourable, kindly man to encourage +a girl like Lady Bell, in any intelligent +interest that might help to educate her, and +raise her above the giddy vacant crowd of +fashionables, with whom idleness was the +fruitful parent of mischief?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Ought he not to alter his arrangements, +and put himself a little out of his way for +one morning, to see that she did not fall +into company like that of the hateful Sir +George Waring, when she was walking +abroad with no better protection than her +maid’s?</p> + +<p class='c008'>True, it was broad day, and with that it +was also betimes in the forenoon, doubtless +an age before Sir George was up holding his +levee, in his brocade nightgown, as he sipped +his chocolate, and pencilled his daily note to +Mrs. Lascelles.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But people could not be too careful, under +some conditions. Lady Sundon was certainly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>as fearless and heedless, as Lady Bell +was guileless and thoughtless. It became +Captain Fane’s part to supplement the absence +of some of the proper qualities of a +guardian in his cousin.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If Lady Sundon was lax, the strictness +and zeal of Captain Fane on Lady Bell’s +behalf might, if the persons principally concerned +had given themselves time to think +about it, have astonished even them. But +this young couple, after the questionable +fashion of young couples, did not pause to +weigh their relations—they took them for +granted.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had even so pleasing a trust in +the sedately fault-finding young sea-captain, +that she had not the slightest qualm when +he at once did her bidding and consented to +be elected her escort, such as she would +have had with almost any other of the gay +danglers about her, and notably with the +agreeable Sir George. “Captain Fane is +such a manly, true young spark,” she took +it upon her to decide, for her private satisfaction, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>though how she had arrived at the +strong conclusion after one or two bantering, +bickering interviews, unless from information +derived from Lady Sundon, to whose +judgment Lady Bell was not wont to pin +her faith, it puzzles one to guess. “He is +a little prejudiced and hard,” continued +Lady Bell, mentally taking stock of her +companion, “but I can melt him” (there +was the triumph!). “I think I know how +he would look boarding a ship, and how I +could make him drop his sword,” which was +a purely imaginative vision.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As Lady Bell and Captain Fane passed +along the streets, they became eye-witnesses +to a curious political contradiction. At one +thoroughfare, men were stationed with handbills, +to be distributed to respectable and +influential persons, especially to members +of parliament, praying them to stop the +shedding of their American brethren’s blood. +At another thoroughfare, the pedestrians +had to thread their way through a crowd—the +centre of which was the common hangman +<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>in the act of burning, to the accompaniment +of tumultuous applause, copies of +a pamphlet entitled “The Present Crisis +with respect to America,” which had been +condemned by both Houses, as a flagrant +insult to the King.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane informed Lady Bell that +this difference of opinion had even penetrated +to the services. He brought forward +the instance of Lord Viscount Pitt, son to +my Lord Chatham, having asked leave to +resign his commission, since he was determined +not to serve in a war between the +mother country and her colony.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And what do you say, sir?” inquired +Lady Bell.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I say that it is too late to stop a fratricidal +war, save by fighting it out as quickly +as may be, and that even if it were not so, +it is for me to obey, not to issue, orders,” +he replied with decision.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At Leicester Fields Lady Bell’s ticket +procured the admission of the lady and her +friend, first into the parlour, where an untidy, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>abrupt, cordial elderly woman, was +herself painting a miniature and hurriedly +sopping up her spilt paint, when she heard +the steps of visitors.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This was Mrs. Frances Reynolds, who +painted “The grimly ghost of Johnson,” +and wrote the “Essay on Taste”—printed +but never published. She was soon on +familiar terms with the intruders.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My brother will be certain to spare +time for you,” Miss Reynolds assured Lady +Bell, “he is like the rest of the geniuses, +not above the flattery of such a visit. Bah! +haven’t I known them all, Burke, Goldy, +Dr. Johnson, who has wished my tea-pot +might never run dry, and yet hurried off +to help himself with his own spoon out of a +Countess’s sugar-bason, and been put down—to +put her down in turn in the presence +of her grand company? Ah! well, I have +never wished the great Doctor would stay +by his own fire-side, though he has forced +Joshua to rise and take his hat, if he +would not sit on into the small hours, and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>have us all winking with sleep as the only +hint to our visitor to be gone. I don’t +know that we think ourselves so enviable. +You’ll be sent for to the painting-room +presently, Lady Bell—no, you need not +look at my baby faces—child’s play to the +doings of my brother,—the man in Cavendish +Square can never come near them, +though I should not say it. But first you +must let me have a look at you, for even we +poor artists hear of the belles of the season, +with other public matters, in the conversation +of sitters, and when we are bidden to +look in at a <span lang="it">conversazione</span>, or a rout, now +and then.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, pray, Miss Reynolds, don’t make +me public property,” cried Lady Bell, in +laughing objection.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If my brother seek to paint you, as he +has painted so many of your sisterhood, you +will become public property, whether you +like it or no,” boasted the sister, “you cannot +help it, madam, it is a tax you owe to +the country, like the tax on powder or +<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>armorial bearings. But who is this gentleman? +I did not catch his name. Oh! my +brother has done many naval men, and for +my part, I like his Lord Mount Edgcumbe +and Commodore Keppel, as well as any face +which he has put through his hands. My +Lord Mount Edgcumbe is a Devonshire +man, and for Commodore Keppel he gave +Joshua his first lift, and we may well love a +dog with the name of ‘Keppel,’ as Dr. Johnson +could love a dog if it were called +‘Hervey.’”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The garrulous inquisitive lady was interrupted +by her little niece, as quiet as the +aunt was a rattle, and as shy and attentive +to the proprieties as Miss Reynolds was impetuous +and eccentric. This young girl was +Sir Joshua’s Offy Palmer, whom he was to +immortalise, reading “Clarissa,” and who +was to be Mrs. Gwatkin, while her sister +was to be the heiress of the largest fortune +acquired by the prosecution of art in this +inartistic England, and to marry the Marquis +of Thomond. She brought a message +<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>that her uncle was free from a sitter then, +and for the next half hour, and that he was +coming himself to take Lady Bell Trevor +and Captain Fane to his painting-room, +where he would shew them the pictures in +his possession.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span> + <h2 id='ch14' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XIV.</span><br> <br>SIR JOSHUA AT HOME.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>In another instant there entered a fresh, +almost chubby-faced gentleman, with a +dint in his nether lip, and an ear-trumpet in +his hand. He was not without a certain +dapperness in the unexceptionable brown +coat and spotless ruffles, which he had substituted +for his painting-coat and plain +cuffs.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was the briskest of gentlemen, the +most obliging of geniuses who ever kept +sitters in good humour and under control, +by the very ease of his dignity in bearing +with their airs and oddities.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The contemporary of the glorious, careless +good-fellow Gainsborough, of Romney in his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>arrogant, one-sided power, and later of Opie, +the most self-taught and the most self-asserting +painter among them—Sir Joshua beat +them all.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It may be true that his art was pervaded +with an artificial, aristocratic flavour, and +that he made a little lady of his strawberry +girl, and modern English my lords of every +historical personage who passed under his +pencil.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Painters may feel it their duty, from their +watch-tower of technical knowledge, to impress +on the world their grieved conviction, +that the president of the old Academy, so +widely cultivated, so full of sense and +acumen, in addition to his professional +ability, and to the industry which “never +passed a day and lost a line,” the chosen +friend of the most public-spirited men of +his time—yet painted deliberately for a +single generation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was, according to his brethren, wilful +and regardless of the destructive nature of +the pigment which he used, so that they +<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>produced a certain effect to last his time. +His accusers point in proof of their charge +to the fading lines and cracking canvas of +the very works of which all Englishmen are +proud.</p> + +<p class='c008'>So be it, if it must be so; we have still +the poetry (let some hold it fantastic) of the +Tragic Muse, the gallant heroism of Keppel, +the thoughtful benevolence of Johnson, the +broad archness of Nelly O’Brien; and we +have following on the dainty playfulness of +“Pick-a-back” a long train of fresh and +delicate, lovely and stately, English maids +and matrons, with Sir Joshua’s quaint sweet +children bringing up the rear.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In Lady Bell’s day there was no thought, +unless it were among the chemically skilled, +that these softly glowing, wonderfully +blended colours would wane, or the fine +surface give way. Sir Joshua was regarded +as the quintessence of inspired and courtly +painters, treading in the footsteps of Van-dyck.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Joshua had only a few of his paintings +<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>to show the eager, intelligent young lady, +whose grace was so winning to his eye, and +her eloquence so grateful to his ear—through +his trumpet—as it reached him. There were +fair ladies sacrificing to the graces and to +the muses, very interesting to Lady Bell. +There was Dr. Beattie in his gown as an +Oxford Doctor of Laws, with his book on +“The Immutability of Truth” under his +arm, and the Angel of Truth going before +him, beating down the gruesome figures of +Sophistry, Scepticism, and Infidelity, said to +personify Voltaire, Gibbon, and Hume, which +was carefully studied by Captain Fane. +There was the doom of Count Ugolino and +his sons, which enchained with the fascination +of horror both of the gazers. There +was the portrait of a plump little woman, +sprightly even on canvas, her high-dressed +hair wreathed with pearls, a shawl girdle +binding loosely the short waist and bodice, +which Sir Joshua strove to paint into fashion—a +great improvement on the earlier +<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>elongated steel-bound waist and laced-up +bodice.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As Sir Joshua was about to name the +original, the real lady ran unushered, in +her hat and cloak, into the room.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The new-comer had not a moment to stay +to be introduced to Lady Bell Trevor and +Captain Fane. She was in haste to tell Sir +Joshua that she had just come down from +the Burgh, where she had left her master at +his place of business, but nearly as ailing as +the Doctor (good lack, what a load she had +on her head and shoulders!). She wished to +know whether Sir Joshua had done the re-touching +which he had taken it into his +head to throw away on a barn-door face +beyond improvement. Give her joy on the +audacity of complimenting herself; but she +did not mean to compliment—not that she +was not well enough pleased with her own, +she would never deny it. She would like +the picture packed and sent out without loss +of time. Queeney and the rest of the young +fry might care to look at it one day, when it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>was all that was left of their mother. Good +day to him and to all.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You are in luck, Lady Bell,” announced +Sir Joshua, returning, briskly rubbing his +hands, from seeing the lady to her coach, +“if you have not had a previous opportunity +of meeting my friend. That is Mrs. Thrale, +the wife of the great brewer, who is himself +an exceedingly liberal gentleman and well-read +scholar; but his wife excels him in the +classics.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“She was one of the west country +Lynches,” said Lady Bell, showing her +acquaintance with the lady’s antecedents.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is she who has made a home for the +great Doctor at that pattern of country +houses, Streatham,” continued Sir Joshua. +“She has preserved an invaluable life, +madam, years longer to the country, by +taking Dr. Johnson’s health under her care, +as she has often told us, and by nursing him +out of some of his worst attacks and most +injurious habits. Would to God her efforts +could continue successful, both with him and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>Mr. Thrale, who is, I fear, in a bad way, and +on the brink of an apoplexy.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“She deserves all honour,” said Lady +Bell warmly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“The more so that her cares seem to sit +lightly on her.” Captain Fane could not +resist the sly hit.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell flashed a little reproach upon +him from her eyes, which looked as if she +were condescending to take his manners, as +Mrs. Thrale had taken Dr. Johnson’s health, +under her special superintendence.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A matter of temperament,” pronounced +the genially philosophic painter.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Joshua, who enjoyed his own reputation +as an urbane and accomplished man of +the world, as he enjoyed most things in the +pleasantly prosperous places in which his +lines were cast, began to talk to Captain +Fane of Captain Cook, with whom the +painter’s friend, Dr. Burney’s son, had +made a voyage round the world; and of +Sir Joseph Banks’s collection of objects of +natural history, which Captain Fane had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>seen under the care of young Mr. Jenner, +the favourite pupil of Dr. Hunter.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Joshua had made a happy choice of +subjects to which Captain Fane was alive, +and in which he was well informed. The +gentlemen talked like kindred spirits, while +Lady Bell, to her credit, was content to remain +in the background, and listen with +deference and delight. She was innocently +proud of her companion.</p> + +<p class='c008'>How very different was the figure which +Captain Fane cut to-day, in company with a +genius who was at the same time a finished +gentleman of any school, from the figure +which Captain Fane had presented at the +sailing-party!</p> + +<p class='c008'>What other male friend of Lady Bell’s +could have stood so severe a test, and come +out of it so splendidly? Not Sir George +Waring, in spite of his elegance and his +musical talents, any more than Master +Charles. Lady Bell was deeply impressed +by Captain Fane’s gifts, which he was really +in the habit of hiding under a bushel. She +<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>was almost provoked when Sir Joshua remembered +his duty to her, not guessing +how well pleased she was that he should +forget it, and began to tell her of the one +lady who belonged to the Royal Society of +Artists, Mrs. Angelica Kauffman.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It was not a difficult process to make a +digression to those ladies who were amateur +artists, and to render Lady Bell, in spite +of her <i>savoir faire</i>, bashfully grateful, by +deigning to drop a hint for her benefit on the +mixing and laying-on of colours, and on the +drawing of such slight designs as Sir Joshua +had himself afforded to Poggi for his fans.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I thought t’other morning we spent +together was very happy,” Lady Bell +spoke out of the fulness of her heart to +her squire when they were in the square, +and he was looking out for a chair that +she might get home in time to keep an +appointment with her mantua-maker; “but +I shall be always recalling this day and +its lessons when I am busiest and happiest +at Summerhill.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>“Don’t you think I shall recall it, Lady +Bell,” asked Harry Fane, “when for a +studio in which to busy myself, I shall +be reduced to ‘between decks,’ and for +my fine arts shall be setting men to rig +spars and haul in sails, varied by pointing +a gun instead of a telescope, and submitting +to be carried down into the cockpit?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, no; you won’t be carried there!” +cried Lady Bell, with impetuous haste.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“At least I did not mean to crave pity +from you,” protested Harry with unconscious +tenderness shaking his firm voice. +“A grumpy, hulking fellow who has been +so much at sea that he has lost the manœuvre +of giving a wide berth to what displeases +his crotchets on shore, is of no +good save to shout orders in a storm, or +to keep a look-out against the national +enemy.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell did not contradict him, but +she looked in his face, somewhat set and +lined for a man of his age, but an honest +and manly face, which had looked its +<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>kindest on her, the hardness in which she +could melt, as she had said, like the melting +of a block of ice before a meridian sun.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She gave him a parting look as the chair-men +lifted her chair, which raised a mighty +commotion, for which Lady Bell was decidedly +answerable, in the blue-coated breast +of the young man—thought so long-headed +and calm-hearted, so rational, discreet, and +obdurate, that he could be let cast stones at +all the follies and extravagancies of his time. +Lady Bell’s look said, “You are good for +all that is cleverest, truest, bravest—not to +the world, perhaps, for you know, none +better, that the world is a giddy, vicious, +Vanity Fair—but to me. You need not +tell others that I say so, but I say it; and +you need not forget that I said it, in the +long days during which I am mixing with +people whom you justly despise, or have +taken refuge at Summerhill; and when you +are sailing on the high seas, doing your duty +like a man, guarding our shores, and fighting +our foes.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span> + <h2 id='ch15' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XV.</span><br> <br>THE MASQUED BALL IN PROSPECT.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Captain Fane, though he <i>was</i> rational, +and had a regard for consequences, was +fallible, and did not cease to frequent his +cousin’s house in Cleveland Court, because +of that very inconsiderate look of Lady +Bell’s.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the contrary, he who was no dangler +in drawing-rooms, and was wont to improve +his time in town by going afresh over the +libraries and museums, and by attending +every gathering and discussion of scientific +men, began to haunt Lady Sundon’s rooms, +until even that hospitably-disposed kinswoman +could not refrain from an uneasy +private comment, “Something’s going to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>happen to Harry Fane; he is turning up +for ever, like a new farthing. He used to +make himself as scarce and hard to find as a +gold guinea, but now he has become dirt-cheap, +and is always lying about in everybody’s +way. Lady Bell, Lady Bell, I hope +you understand that I only bade you sort +my cousin in jest. I hope that you have +not to answer for a brave sailor’s undoing. +He has enough of knocking about in the +open sea, without being run down in the +harbour; and I consider Harry like a son of +my own, since his own folk are all dead and +gone.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell bore the unspoken charge as if +she were perfectly innocent, save that even +a more brilliant bloom than she had shown +lately, glowed in her cheeks and was reflected +in her eyes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was full of a gaiety of the +season in which she was about to take a +part, and which was novel to her. “I dare +say I shall soon have had enough of the gay +world—my fling, as you call it, Lady Sundon—but +<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>I have not yet been to a masquerade,” +explained Lady Bell; “I confess that I am +dying with curiosity to see what it is like. +Only fancy one’s ordinary neighbours and +friends as sultanas and chimney-sweeps, +Queen Elizabeths and Richard the Thirds. +Oh! I think it must be charmingly romantic +and diverting—that fun of finding +people out, and of baffling their curiosity, +while you may be as witty as you please +and can.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“All very fine, my dear; but Cornely’s +masquerades were not exactly the place for +seeing proper company”—Lady Sundon +played the monitor for once—“and at the +old Pantheon masquerades, Covent-Garden +women and highwaymen used to mix with +the regular guests. How could it be otherwise, +when nobody could tell who was +who?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Yet you all went to these places, my +dear Lady Sundon,” Lady Bell coaxed her +friend, “and riots have gone out of fashion. +Besides, this masquerade is to be given +<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>by the gentlemen of White’s. They are to +have lady patronesses. At an hour fixed +upon, each lady and gentleman is to unmask, +so that one could not be safer in a private +house. Indeed I am very glad that the +gentlemen of White’s are to be prodigiously +gallant, and give a masquerade ball this +year, when I happen to be in town. Tickets +must be procured for you and Nancy and +Lyddy, Lady Sundon; of course they must. +I’ll never rest till the deficiency is supplied; +I’ll not stir a foot, or order a costume, without +you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell referred to the circumstance +that in consequence of the run on masquerade +tickets, and the ultra exclusiveness of +the set issuing them, only one ticket to Lady +Bell Trevor had found its way to Cleveland +Court. “So Nancy and Lyddy are down in +the mouth,” Lady Sundon said; “and for +myself, I own I’m an old fool; but if the +affair is to be above board, I’d give my two +ears yet to see the play.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was less difficulty for gentlemen in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>getting admittance, and when Lady Bell, +the moment the club masquerade was announced, +raised her eager voice in its favour, +Captain Fane had only to speak to a brother +officer, who was a member of the club, in +order to have a ticket. Harry Fane made +a specious excuse to Lady Sundon for his +haste to countenance this vanity.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is not that I approve of such an +entertainment; I have heard from yourself +that it is one of the most lax and perilous +in an age of ridottos and public gardens—the +more reason why as many sober and +virtuous people as can make an entrance, +should use their right to confront the foolish +and vicious, and protect the innocent and +unwary.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Harry, don’t draw scores before my +nose,” objected Lady Sundon emphatically, +and when the gentleman moved away discomfited, +she concluded her remark for her +own benefit, “as if you would have been +in such a case to act as a bodyguard even +to me and Nancy and Lyddy! The grand +<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>passion has much to answer for, in playing +such pranks with a staid, sensible fellow, +who has very little patrimony besides his pay, +and ought to know he is not a fit match +for my Lady Bell. I meant that his comb +should be cut, for he carried it over high; +but I’m frighted that it is done only too +closely. And he’s my own flesh and blood, +though Lady Bell is a charming young +woman, and I could eat her, I have taken +to her so hugely. Besides, it is a credit +and pleasure to show her about in town, +which is in the habit of thinking naught of +the wares of a country body like me.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell’s influence would have gained +the tickets which were wanting, but, in the +interval before the ball, there came the +threat of a family calamity that effectually +prevented the Sundons’ attendance, and very +nearly put a stop to Lady Bell’s making +acquaintance with the delights of a masquerade.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Word arrived that Lady Sundon’s only +child, the son and heir of the family, had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>met with a dangerous accident, by a fall +from a tree, in one of the meadows near his +grammar school, a week before. He had +not recovered his senses when the letter was +written, though the chances were, from the +number of days which had elapsed, that the +hurt must have yielded, so far, to medical +skill. A fatal termination would have +caused the despatch of a special messenger, +who would have reached London and preceded +the announcement of the accident in +the slow course of post.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But great was the flurry and distress. +Poor Lady Sundon prepared to set out +instantly for the scene of the accident, to +nurse her son, should she find him alive to +be nursed by her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Misses Sundon, who had been wont +to utter, as loudly as the plaintiveness of +their reproaches would permit, charges of +undue preference on the part of Sir Peter +for his boy over his girls, and of gross +indulgence and spoiling on the part of +the boy’s mother, were sufficiently kindly +<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>women, in spite of their follies, to be cut up +by their half-brother’s danger, and to forget +altogether, in their roused and alarmed +affection, that they had insisted on electing +themselves the young master’s rivals.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lyddy Sundon, who was the more energetic +of the sisters, would not hear of any +other arrangement than that she should +accompany Lady Sundon in her journey, +and remain with her, to assist in nursing +the little lad.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Sundon, whose rosy, elderly face +was purple with subdued excitement, while +she could not keep the moisture out of her +eyes by the repeated furtive movement of +her hand across her face, did not fail to be +touched by the token of respect and regard. +“I’m sure it’s very good of you, Lyddy,” +the mother said, with all her heart. “I +ain’t likely to forget it, no, nor your father +neither; and I trust my Ned will remember +it when he is a man, for, by God’s mercy, he +may live to see us out yet.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nancy Sundon undertook to devote herself, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>in his wife’s absence, to the care of Sir +Peter, naturally suffering more than ever, +though he was driven for the moment to +forget his own sufferings.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“But our trouble, which may end well, +for all that is come and gone, please God, is +not your trouble, Lady Bell, so go to your +masquerade yourself, my dear,” the good-natured +woman told Lady Bell at parting. +“I’ll take ‘The Cries of London’ to amuse +Neddy, as you wish, and thank you heartily +for the thought. But I am sure it would +vex any child of mine on his bed, as it +would vex me, if he could know that he +was keeping you, who have nothing to do +with him, poor boy, save in your good will, +from a grand treat. Go when it is your +day, and enjoy yourself with the best, Lady +Bell, bless you! We don’t grudge you the +enjoyment, though we have come to grief.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sure, you don’t; but never think of me, +my dear Lady Sundon; may a blessing and +the best of luck go with you. I hope and +pray that you will find your boy a great deal +<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>better than you expect, and that we shall +all have such a merry meeting again that +the finest masquerade will be thrown into +the shade.” And Lady Bell fully meant +to give up the masquerade.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But scarcely had Lady Sundon and Lyddy +set out, when another deliberate post letter +arrived in Cleveland Court, with the cheering +tidings that the sufferer was doing well, +and was likely to recover without sustaining +any material and permanent injury from his +fall.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The chief source of anxiety was removed, +and Lady Bell was free to resume her intention +of being present at the ball, and was +not reduced to eclipse its splendour by being +absent, as a throng of the givers of the feast +were ready to profess. Miss Sundon might +have accompanied Lady Bell, but the former +preferred, on the whole, after the late shock +to her nerves, to remain a martyr to her +new responsibility, and to relapse into luxuriating +tenderly over the last grievance.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell, in her widowed dignity, could +<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>dispense with a companion. She knew, +moreover, with an idle, exultant throb, that +in addition to her many admirers, more or +less fervent, and more or less men of many +ties, with their hearts split into segments, +and distributed pretty equally over a select +circle of fashionable belles, there was one +man who would only see her in the motley +company, who was in it for her sake, who, +crusty, cantankerous sailor as she had +judged him at first, needed but a wave of +her hand, and a glance of her eye, to be at +her side, at her feet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell, whether she confessed it to +herself or not, went on to draw conclusions +from the significant circumstance that Captain +Fane, of his own free will, departed +from his rule and put himself about to be +one in a scene so unpalatable to his tastes as +this masquerade.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell did more. She looked within, +and she recognised with a breathless flutter +of mingled wonder, trepidation, and bliss, +an astounding fact. The chief glory of the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>masquerade to her would be the presence of +this quondam growling and grave young +officer.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was perfectly aware that Harry +Fane, though well-born, was poor, and that—while +she believed he was an excellent +officer, and while she had heard him speak +like a natural philosopher to a man of +genius—he was a fellow of no mark in her +fashionable world. His very profession was +against him in some respects.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell well knew that Captain Fane +would be reckoned a most unsuitable match, +the poorest <i>parti</i> for a beauty, a Lady Bell, +a young widow who had begun her career +of worldly prosperity very fairly, and had +then taken the world by storm. Was she +to end by wantonly squandering her advantages, +for which she had paid dearly enough +in her day; was she to slight the great +matches that might be in store for her, the +coronets, the amorous squires, richer than +Trevor of Trevor Court, the exquisite beaux +like Sir George Waring, for so sober and in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>the world’s eye so insignificant a figure? +Was she, as a lovely widow, rather to copy +the example of the Duchess of Manchester +with her Irishman, of whom all the world +had talked, or that of the Duchess of Leinster +with her Scotchman, of whom all the world +was talking, in stooping to confer grace, than +follow the lead of Lady Waldegrave in aiming +as high as the gusty neighbourhood of a +throne? Lady Bell laughed in mockery of +herself a little hysterically. She made a +feint of trying to find time and heart to +scold herself, and at the same time she +blushed like a rose at the mere thought, +and trembled with a newly-discovered happiness.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span> + <h2 id='ch16' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XVI.</span><br> <br>THE MASQUED BALL AS IT BEGAN IN REALITY.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Lady Bell was coy. She was provoking, +she was wilful, and she was perverse, +in the strange gladness which was so +dashed with emotion, but of which she +strove hard, and almost succeeded, to show +only the frolicksome side.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I shan’t tell you what I am going to +wear, Captain Fane,” Lady Bell said, “and +you are not to tell whether you are to be a +peasant or a prince. I shall put my fingers +in my ears if you do. I mean to keep my +secret. I tell you all the fun will be in +finding each other out—as if I could not +find him out among a thousand,” she said +to herself, while her glance fell beneath his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>reproachful gaze, “and if he should be too +stupid to guess me under a disguise,” she +added—always for her own satisfaction—“why +I can take off my mask and enlighten +him at any moment.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane was forced to submit, thinking +in some measure, as his mistress thought, +“Well, the information beforehand would +only be a precaution to save time. However +crowded the rooms may be, she can +never elude me.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>But neither Lady Bell nor Captain Fane +had ever been at a masquerade ball. On +the lady and gentleman’s separate arrivals, +after a way had been made through the +excited crowd which pressed about the +doors and pushed into the lobby of the club +itself, and was driven back by watchmen, in +order to witness the spectacle of the season, +the scene which presented itself was one of +wild disorder.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A great assemblage of pretentious and +grotesque figures, who for the most part could +do little else to assume foreign and cast-off +<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>native characters, strutted, stalked, shambled, +stamped, bawled, growled, and squeaked +amidst a chorus of loud remarks, shouts of +laughter, and roars of derision. Communication +between all save the initiated was +next to impossible.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell and Captain Fane lost themselves, +and what was worse, could not find +each other, incontinently, and in spite of +the magnet which each formed for the other, +and the conclusive test which each believed +he or she could apply to the other.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“This is the very paradise of fools,” +thought the not very tolerant sailor, as he +elbowed his way along, and doggedly resisted +the audacious attack on his notice +made in very wantonness, or on mistaken +premises.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, I won’t ogle that intolerable shepherdess, +Lady Bell never perpetrated such a +crook.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If Columbus keep raking me with his +glass, as if I sailed in command of his ship’s +consort, I’ll be tempted to give him a knock +<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>on the head with his own telescope. He +sail a carvel or discover new lands! He is +only fit for the tub of that Diogenes which +Dick Turpin has kicked over!</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What a game for grown men and +women! All the rank, wealth, and intelligence +of England engaged in it, as the news +prints will have it to-morrow.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Where on earth can Lady Bell be? She +is not that fair one with the locks of gold—borrowed +locks clearly—over her own dark +hair. No, this lady is several inches too +tall, and she walks like a stork, instead of +footing it like a fairy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Crossing the line is a joke to this. The +Jack Tars have more point in their gambols. +Avast! Yonder goes Neptune with his +trident, summoned by my words from the +vasty deep. But I’ll have none of him. I +have enough of him on his own element, to +be let off from the contact here.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Lady Bell is not walking in the minuet. +What does she mean by thus giving me the +slip? How do I know what harm she may +<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>be running into in the confounded freedom +of this masquerade? All the rage is for +adventures, pleasant or unpleasant. I suppose +every pretty woman will be mortally +disappointed if she do not have her share. +Oh heavens! the folly of women, and oh +heavens! the folly of men—of a pretended +Timon in a shabby blue jacket for thinking +to mend them.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Captain Fane was not there in a blue +jacket, shabby or otherwise, else he might +not have sought far and wide in vain. He +had, between ignorance and a spice of spite +at Lady Bell, because she would not afford +him a clue to her character for the evening, +taken no more distinctive disguise than one +of the abounding black dominoes or loose +cloaks, of which there were scores in the +room, worn by lazy, shy, or proud men and +women, many of the former of much the +same height as Captain Fane.</p> + +<p class='c008'>After all the domino, as proved by continental +patronage, and by its invariable use +on the part of those who had covert designs +<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>to prosecute at this or any other masquerade, +was the one sufficient and safe disguise in +which men and women could glide here and +there, and appear and disappear miraculously +in the crowd.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But wearers of dominoes who wished to +be known, must wait for the late hour when +every guest was to remove his or her mask, +and step forth in proper identity.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane’s temper was not his strong +point, and his disposition was not accommodating. +He was too ruffled and piqued to +receive any comfort from the prospect of a +humiliating confession of defeat, and a petition +for mercy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the meantime, if her vexed partner +could have known it, poor Lady Bell was +not enjoying this masquerade, to which she +had looked forward with keen, girlish zest +and a softer interest. She had the sore +humiliation—granted it was by her own +fault—to be recognised by a multitude of +her set, of Mrs. Lascelles’ friends and of +Lady Bell’s danglers, and yet to remain +<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>unrecognised by the one man whose recognition +she craved.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had dressed herself as a gipsy +fortune-teller, in a remarkably respectable +rustic gown—for a gipsy, in the authentic +red cloak and kerchief over her head, with +a pack of incorrectly clean cards. But, +unfortunately, fortune-telling, though not +so plentiful as blackberries or dominoes, +abounded to the degree that Captain Fane, +himself undistinguished, passed at a little +distance without eliciting a spark of the +magnetic influence, the very woman who +was swaying him in spite of his reason, and +almost of his conscience, who was filling +him with a strong, untrained heart’s concentrated +love, which in contrast with the +calculating spent loves of the jaded hearts +around, was fit to work like madness in the +brain.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was greatly chagrined, half +angry with Captain Fane for being horribly, +unaccountably stupid, half doubtful, with a +pang, if he who continued hidden from her, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>as she from him, was really in the room. +Something might have happened, a sudden +appointment to a ship, an accident—his +being stopped, and wounded as well as +robbed, on his way to the ball—or a malicious +story heard to her discredit, for he +was precise in his notions, and stern in upholding +them, as she knew from her experience +at the water-party.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sailors had two standing-points from +which they regarded women. The one +standing-point was that of coarser salt-water +Lovelaces and Lotharios, to whom no +woman was sacred, and who trusted none. +The other was that of Turks, who locked up +their women in western harems, and exacted +from the women the meekest domesticity.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Harry Fane was no profligate Lovelace, +Lady Bell was sure; but she was not equally +certain that he might not develop into a +rigid, caustic captain of his own household.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had murmured loudly at the +moroseness of poor old Squire Trevor, when +she, as a silly child, had tried his patience; +<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>should she not be a fool indeed to put herself, +as a woman, in the power of another +master?</p> + +<p class='c008'>And this would not be a fine gentleman +who might neglect and be unfaithful to her, +and still be suave and tolerant to her faults, +having consideration of his own grievous +sins.</p> + +<p class='c008'>This would be another sour and savage +man, rendered a hundred times more formidable +in his prime by the weapons which +her love and his would put into his hands +to pierce both their hearts.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Yet she was old and wise enough to know +that infinitely worse might befall her. What +a poor chance there was for women of her +class and culture in life! Humbler women +might be more stolid, less alive to their +injuries, abler to keep their own.</p> + +<p class='c008'>These were sad reflections to qualify the +noisy nonsense of a masquerade. Lady Bell +was very sorry for herself, and soon grew +weary of the amusement. She discovered +that it was rarely dependent on the lively +<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>cleverness which could enter into the spirit +of the game and play it out well. The ball +was kept up rather by the impudence and +effrontery which could break through every +restraint, and could administer and endorse, +without flinching, the rudest rebuffs.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Troubadours, King Alfreds, and Friar +Tucks, the Abbesses, Beggar Girls, and +Sapphos, aimed more frequently at outraging +than at expressing their <i>rôles</i>. It was +regarded as the best joke when the Troubadour +flung away his guitar, King Alfred +hobnobbed with Captain Macheath, and +Friar Tuck swam, sauntered, and sniffed at +a vinaigrette. In like manner fair applause +was won by the Abbess entering into an +open flirtation with a soldier of fortune; by +the Beggar Girl complaining peevishly of +the liberties taken by a courtier, who had +trodden on her beggar’s trappings; and by +Sappho, while oppressed with a “snivelling +cold,” and beset by a most pronounced +Devonshire dialect, indulging in entirely +prosaic and matter-of-fact remarks.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>No doubt, the abuse of the characters +adopted, was a great deal more easily +attained than the use would have been, and, +making allowance for the average limits +of human intellect, the people were wise +in their generation. But the effect was +disappointing to an enthusiastic young +Lady Bell.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The affair did not stop at a brilliant +burlesque—it went as far as an earlier +screaming farce.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell began to grow timid and +nervous as the mirth grew faster and more +furious. She clung to the support of any +acquaintance such as Mrs. Lascelles—who, +the wish being father to the thought, +possibly, personated the widow loved by +Sir Roger de Coverley—in passing through +the heaving, changing groups.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane was wrong in one suspicion: +Lady Bell did not seek adventures. On +the contrary, when she saw the bold licence +to which they tended, she shrank back +from them; she had very soon ceased to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>play the rustic fortune-teller, as she had +begun to play it with innocent spirit and +pains. She was ashamed of thinking of +acting where hardly any one else acted.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span> + <h2 id='ch17' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XVII.</span><br> <br>THE “COMMON DOMINO.”</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Lady Bell continued, however, to +pay the penalty for the choice of a +character, by being accosted on the part +of numerous Indian conjurers, sailors, and +Roman emperors, all uniting in the demand +that she should tell them their fortunes. +Neither was the demand made in formal +histrionic phrase, but in free and easy +modern language, spoken by voices teasingly +familiar to her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell was so bewildered and +vexed because all her boasted penetration +had failed her, that not having succeeded +in detecting the one, she would not take +the trouble to identify the many. She +guessed that some of these masquers were +<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>Sir George Waring, Lord Boscobel, Colonel +Selby; but she did not care to come to a +decision. What was it to her who they +were?</p> + +<p class='c008'>The gentlemen were not so indifferent or +irresolute about the secret of the graceful +little fortune-teller. Fine gentlemen though +they were, and at their own ball, they were +importunate and aggressive, until their +advances became irksome and offensive to +Lady Bell. She grew sick of them, and +the whole riotous company, and wished +herself with all her heart well out of it—out +of town—back to her peaceful Summerhill, +with her calm, beneficent Mrs. Sundon.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell absolutely declined doing any +more palmistry, and put off the pressing +claimants on her powers with as much +determination as she could summon to her +aid on the spur of the moment.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, no, sirs, the stars are not in the +ascendant,” she said, with a very sincere +sigh, “the cards won’t shuffle. You must +go to another fortune-teller.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>“To no other, most unpropitious Sybil,” +asserted one voice.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Let me shuffle your cards,” suggested +another, offering to take the tools of Lady +Bell’s trade for the night out of her hands.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I’ll cross your hand with gold, my +girl,” said a third, and at the same time +presumed to seize Lady Bell’s disengaged +hand.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was roused to a more energetic +renunciation of her character.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I won’t be bribed. See here!” she +cried.</p> + +<p class='c008'>And raising the spread-out pack of cards, +she scattered them far and near.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Her action was partly misunderstood, and +some of her followers stopped to pick up the +cards, as Lady Bell had hoped they would. +She moved on directly, but in the little +scuffle she had already been separated from +her party. For the moment the crowd had +closed in between them, and Lady Bell +found herself alone in her disguise, exposed +to rougher horse-play.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>Any masquer who saw a woman alone +in the crowd, might regard her, charitably, +in Captain Fane’s strain, as a lady looking +out for adventures. Whether so looking +out, or innocent of such an intention, the +mere fact of her having foolishly exposed +herself, constituted her good game for the +buffoonery of the masquerade.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Yet Lady Bell’s trepidation did not +amount to panic, and she assured herself +that it was silly, for she had simply to take +off her mask, and show that she was Lady +Bell Trevor, in order to find friends, and +be freed from molestation. Any woman who +had ever sustained a serious misadventure +at a masquerade, like most women who sustained +misadventures in a wider sphere—the +world, had only been too willing to +undergo the infliction, or had yielded to a +private reason for risking it, and either way +had themselves to thank for their humiliation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell was certainly unwilling to +plead helplessness, crave pity, and virtually +<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>acknowledge that her natural dignity did +not stand her in good stead. Moreover, the +acknowledgment ought not to be required +of her; for already some who knew her, +as she was convinced, though it was their +present cue to conceal their knowledge, were +there. Sir George Waring and Colonel +Selby, the first as Sir Roger de Coverley, +the second as the Lord Chancellor of +England, had come up with her, holding +some of her cards in their hands.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was tired, shaken. She could +think of no other resource than that of +flying from her persecutors with as much +speed as she could command, or the crowd +would allow. While she hurried along she +held down her head, and tried not to listen +to besieging addresses, suggesting in her +attitude something of the aspect of Ferdinand +seeking vainly to shake off Ariel’s +tricksy sprites; notwithstanding that Lady +Bell’s foes were of more solid substance.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The group arrested the attention of a +domino, who at once made for it, catching +<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>up by chance as he did so one of the +fortune-teller’s cards which dropped from +a gentleman’s hand. While he joined in +the pursuit, which was attracting notice, +he heard bets laid on the race that caused +his blood to boil, little as bets meant at a +time when men wagered on drops running +down a window-pane, on an old woman’s +hobbling, or on the hours that a sick man +might live.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The prize might be nothing to Captain +Fane, for it was possibly a case of mistaken +identity where he was concerned; and even +if he were in the right, he was ignorant +and jealous of Lady Bell’s reason for keeping +herself hidden from him, as it seemed.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It might very well be that she would +resent his interference. He could not help +remembering, though she had sought to +atone for it, how she had treated his opposition +at the water-party.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He might reap no thanks, only anger +and disgust as the result of his officiousness. +But for her sake he would venture all.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>He scrawled with his pencil on the card +which he had appropriated. “Do you wish +to get away and go home without waiting +for the unmasking? I shall put you into +a chair—say yes, and I shall be satisfied +that I am right.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>He pushed forward in advance of the +others and thrust the card into Lady Bell’s +hand.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She glanced mechanically at the writing, +with which she was not sufficiently acquainted +for it to show the writer. But +the electric shock was given at last, she +had not the slightest fear of trusting herself +with that domino. “Oh yes!” she drew +a long sigh of relief and joy, standing still +and speaking in her natural tones.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“A swindle, a cheat, madam,” shouted +the wildest of her train; “you decline to +read our fortunes, and you answer the first +question put to you by an interloper.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Gentlemen,” interposed the domino, +speaking in cold tones of indisputable +authority and sober reason, “the lady is +<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>fatigued with the foolery, and wishes to +go home. I suppose you do not interfere +with the inclinations of your guests?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The gentlemen looked at each other and +paused discomfited.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Sold, by Jove!”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I wish you joy, Sir George, of your +successful rival.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Devil take him, who can he be? never +heard that my lady had any troublesome +appendage—country cousin, parson in disguise, +former husband come alive again, +recent husband come to light.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Before the exclamations burst forth, the +domino was leading the fortune-teller +through the crowd, compelling a passage +for her, to the door of the room, out into +the vestibule, and down the stairs, at the +foot of which they stopped, and he bade a +watchman call a chair.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Then Lady Bell took off her mask, and +he pulled off his, and each smiled forgiving +and forgiven in the face of the other, while +the servants and their company thought the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>two a proper couple (though Harry was no +Adonis), and on plain enough terms.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But the lady and gentleman were not +bent on one of the clandestine expeditions +and frantic escapades in which masquerades +frequently ended, since they would not set +about it barefaced. Therefore the pair being +manifestly honest, were left to themselves, +unmolested by the kind souls that liked to +look on them at a little distance. For anything +more Lady Bell and Captain Fane +were deficient to the apprehension of their +more or less debased fellow-creatures in +what are to them essential elements of +thrilling interest—crime and shame.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I am so glad to get out of it—I shall +never wish to go to a masquerade again. +But could you find no better disguise than +a common domino?” Lady Bell began to +recover herself, and to pout the least in the +world. “There were scores of dominoes +like this,” she hinted regretfully, putting a +little finger shyly on a fold of the objectionable +domino.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>“Could my Lady Bell not dress up herself +more fitly than in the cloak of a gipsy +fortune-teller, when there were crowns and +sceptres, wands and wings, in the room?” +the gentleman reproached his partner with +delirious fervour, softly grasping a corner of +the maligned cloak.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I saw no acting,” cried Lady Bell in a +flurry, to render the conversation less personal. +“A strolling troop, in a barn, would +have managed infinitely better. This was +all fudge and lampooning. I did not ask +for true acting, but I expected something +nearer to it from persons of refinement and +education. I am going to have the real +thing to-morrow.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Tell me where, Lady Bell,” he solicited +directly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I am going to the play, sir, the veritable +play; no wonder everybody rushes to +Covent Garden and Drury Lane; though +some pretend that there are private theatricals +worth listening to, I should feel +inclined to doubt it, after to-night. I am +<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>to have a box in company with Miss +Greathead of Guy’s Cliff, who knows Mrs. +Siddons—she is taking the Londoners’ +hearts by storm, after they nearly broke +her heart years ago.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“How do you know that?” he asked for +the mere sake of hearing her speak and +detaining her a moment longer.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, I know Mrs. Siddons finely,” she +sparkled back upon him, enjoying what she +imagined to be his curiosity, “and perhaps +some day,” she lowered her voice inadvertently +and the tell-tale colour leapt up in +her cheeks, “I shall tell you how she and +I came to be personal friends. You have +never seen her? Then you have never seen +such a genius on the boards. Miss Yates +is nothing to her; she eclipses Mr. Garrick +himself.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was not caring for geniuses on the +boards at that moment, however much he +might care for them at another. What +were the stage and its stars to Harry Fane, +when Lady Bell had availed herself of his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>assistance, had preferred his protection to +that of any man of her set at the masquerade, +and when the words, “Some day I +shall tell you how she and I came to be +personal friends,” were ringing sweetly in +his ears?</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span> + <h2 id='ch18' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XVIII.</span><br> <br>ROMEO AND JULIET ON THE STAGE, AND IN<br>LADY BELL TREVOR AND MISS GREATHEAD’S BOX.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Harry Fane found it easier to join +Lady Bell in her box with Miss Greathead +at Covent Garden than at the masquerade +ball. Notwithstanding that, the +tide which had turned and was bearing the +great actress on to fortune, was so full in +its rush, that the crowd at White’s was +nothing to the jammed mass filling to suffocation +the huge theatre.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the private box Miss Greathead, the +other “Lady of Quality,” was considerate +and generous.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She had been telling Lady Bell that she +<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>remembered when Miss Kemble came to +Miss Greathead’s mother’s house in the +capacity of a waiting gentlewoman. She +had struck everybody by her commanding +beauty and her magnificent reading, and she +had secured the friendship of each member +of the family, so that though she soon +quitted Guy’s Cliff to be married to her +rejected lover, and to return to the boards—her +true sphere—her friends continued to +watch her struggles and her progress with +interest and rejoicing. So long as she and +they lived, Sarah Siddons would be welcome +among the Greatheads.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Miss Greathead brought her story to a +close abruptly, and made room for the young +officer in naval uniform.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He looked a quiet, reserved, brave man, +rather than a crowing, bullying cock of +fashion. At the same time he had been +indefatigable in scaling banisters and leaping +partitions in order to reach the door of +Lady Bell Trevor and Miss Greathead’s +box. He deserved the seat which he had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>won next Lady Bell, though, poor fellow, +he might not fill it long—and it might be +to his loss that he filled it at all.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Miss Greathead in her woman’s heart, +while she counselled expediency and condemned +imprudence with the rest of the +quality, guessed what sitting together for +an hour or two was to a couple between +whom there might soon roll the seas which +divide an old world from a new, and these +seas alive with transports, frigates, squadrons, +hastening to meet the tug of war.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The pair were young fools (Miss Greathead +was shocked at Lady Bell Trevor—the +daughter of an earl, though a spendthrift +earl, a jointured widow, though her jointure +was not great, while the officer by his uniform +was no more than a Captain, and was +not a private “fortune,” else he could +hardly have failed to be known by name +to Miss Greathead—she could not think +what Lady Bell meant by thus preparing +misery for herself and another). But what +would you have? such fools abounded, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>would not the world be worse if it wanted +them? Mrs. Siddons was about to play just +such another fool.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At least the sailor must fill his seat as a +silent partner, for Mrs. Siddons’ acting, and +the pit which hung breathless on her words, +permitted no chatter in the boxes or elsewhere.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The play was that of <i>Romeo and Juliet</i>.<a id='rA'></a><a href='#fA' class='c009'><sup>[1]</sup></a></p> +<p class='c008'>When Mrs. Siddons took the part of +Juliet, she ventured on a new and bold +stroke in the middle of her success. Since +Lady Bell, a fancy-free childish girl, though +a fugitive wife, had been stirred to weep +and smile, and hang breathless over the +histories of Isabella, Mrs. Beverley, and +Euphrasia, Mrs. Siddons had risen to a +much loftier range of characters, to her +mature masterpieces of Lady Macbeth, Constance, +and Queen Katherine.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But for that very reason it appeared doubtful +if she could descend from her height of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>ripe majestic matronhood to the dramatist’s +idea of a single-hearted love-lorn Italian +girl. Even Mrs. Siddons’ superbly developed +personal traits might turn to faults +and work against her in the attempt to personate +the slender, tender daughter of the +Capulets.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But no sooner did the enchantress come +before her judges and begin to weave her +spells, than the velvet eyes, with their rich +lashes, the white pillars of arms with their +regal sweep, became the fond dreamy eyes, +the loving, clinging arms inspired by the +soul of youthful, radiant, all-defying passion +in Juliet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>These two—Lady Bell and Captain Fane—looked +at and listened to their own story. +True, they were not of sufficiently mighty +quality to belong to great rival houses, +but the couple belonged in a measure +to different classes. Lady Bell might +aspire to prospects as far ahead of the +naval captain at her side, though he was +born and bred in her rank, as were a Vice-Admiral’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>commission, and Westminster +Abbey.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The circumstance that the difference between +Lady Bell and Captain Fane was +comparatively slight, only rendered it more +cruel if it were to part them, since it did +anything save prevent the rose from smelling +as sweet.</p> + +<p class='c008'>To sit together at such a play interpreted +by so consummate an actress, and an actor +who was not immeasurably behind her, was +to sit like the guilty King and Queen of +Denmark and witness their crime shadowed +forth by the players. But whereas it was +the past which was held up before the +shrinking eyes of the Royal Danes, it +seemed a dazzling glimpse of the future +which was vouchsafed to these lovers.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The secret of Lady Bell and Captain +Fane, so far as it had remained any secret +to them, was spoken out in Shakespeare’s +words and by Siddons’ and Kemble’s voices. +The true lovers there of whom the others +were but a vivid realization, sat with heaving +<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>breasts, flushed faces, and eyes fixed on +the stage, and dared not glance at each +other (did not need to for that matter), each +to understand what the other felt—save +once or twice.</p> + +<p class='c008'>At the masqued ball in the Capulets’ +house, when fortune favoured the brave so +signally as to find the daring intruder his fit +partner in the daughter of the house, in a +trice, Captain Fane and Lady Bell turned +simultaneously to smile to each other and +to afford the opportunity for the whisper on +his part, “That fellow was in luck—he was +not long in receiving his prize.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>At the first suggestion of a private marriage, +Captain Fane again sought and received +a look as by irresistible fascination. +“Do you mark that?” said the swift meaning +glance of his eyes, before which Lady +Bell’s eyes swam and fell as they had +never swum and fallen before.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There might have been many more pairs +of lovers in the great crowded house that +night, taking to themselves, and making a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>personal matter of the play and its playing, +thus failing to view it in a speculative and +critical light.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But there was absolutely nobody to whom +Shakespeare and the Kembles were rant and +fustian, who was moved to laugh when the +players wept, or to joke and shrug when +they raved.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was something marvellous in the +unanimity of the sympathy, in the multitude +swayed like one man by the poet and the +players, till the old Italian tragedy in its +passion and its piteousness lived again.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Women clasped their hands and prayed +for mercy on the young lovers, sobbed as +Juliet drank the potion and composed herself +to the semblance—too complete—of death,—and +shrieked and swooned when Romeo +met Paris at the tomb—when swords were +crossed and the boy husband who believed +himself widowed in the green accomplishment +of his vows, piercing and pierced, fell +for ever.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Men drew long breaths, and swore deep +<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>oaths, as over their professional contests, +their tussles in Parliament, their meetings +at Chalk Farm, their long seats at the green +board.</p> + +<p class='c008'>We have it on recent record, that in +one row in the orchestra there sat to see +Mrs. Siddons play, men whose names are +not forgotten, no, nor will be, “Reynolds, +Burke, Gibbon, Sheridan, Windham, Fox.” +These men were not babies, but “the tears +were seen running down their dark faces.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The theatre was a power in those days, +and the excitement which crossed and suspended +the excitement of gaming tables and +lottery drawings, was in the main a wholesome +and saving excitement. Mrs. Siddons +made a figure in Lady Bell’s history which +sounds strange nowadays. Not only did +the actress chance to interfere between the +girl and imminent destitution, an incident +which might in itself be passed over like +any other fortuitous incident, but at the +crisis of Lady Bell’s history, John Kemble +and Mrs. Siddons played Romeo and Juliet, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>before Captain Fane and Lady Bell, and the +players had much to answer for.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A great deal which did come to pass +might never have been. Human nature +partially roused might have struggled in +vain with its swaddling-bands, and sunk +back into hopeless helplessness, unable to +compass, within the course of a few days, +its deliverance by one bold stroke. The +opportunity once lost might never have +returned. But in the very striking of the +clock <i>Romeo and Juliet</i> was played.</p> + +<p class='c008'>What hearts must have been stirred to +their depths by the grand acting of the +grand old players! What moral revolutions +must have been wrought out, what life and +death actions compelled—transforming ordinary +men and women into heroes and +heroines! It would be curious if it were +possible to make such a reckoning.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It may be said to the sceptical of such +influences who have only sought for them +in the theatre of to-day, what woman shrieks +and swoons in the theatre now? what man, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>even, is seized with strong hysterics, as +happened once, among the throng who +panted, sweated, and quivered to leap on +the stage, rush to the rescue, or be in at +the death?</p> + +<p class='c008'>We live in a hypercritical and cynical +age, and are proud of the fact. We should +never have been touched by Dr. Dodd’s +enunciation of “Mesopotamia”—it is to be +feared not even by George Whitfield’s +breathing forth of “amen,” neither by the +sham nor by the reality.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Besides, we are misled by visions of our +ancestors taking snuff and looking on at +executions, and think that they felt very +little, and that in the wrong place. Whereas +we are the very same men and women, except +that we are triply bound by certain +refinements and restraints, and are pleased +to hug our bonds.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had cried with the best, palpitated +and quaked over Romeo and Juliet. +She had never once felt disturbed by the +remembrance, as a modern playgoer would +<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>have felt disturbed—nay, would have taken +credit for the feeling, that she had been +behind the scenes with this Juliet, had +helped her to nurse her children, add up +her bills, and eat her prosaic meals.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was not so carping and invidious. +She was more womanly; she was +inclined to go to the opposite extreme in +her reception of the play and in the effect +which it had upon her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“This Juliet was a sweet victim,” Miss +Greathead had declared, wiping her eyes +when all was over. “But one must confess +she had little more than her deserts. How +would it be with any girl in our days, who +could be as disobedient and deceitful and +monstrously rash as Mistress Juliet showed +herself?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, Miss Greathead,” protested Lady +Bell, forgetting everything in the eagerness +of her argument, “I don’t go in for the +disobeying and deceiving her parents—only +they were so mad in their feud, that what +could she ever hope for from their reason or +<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>their duty? They drove her to the climax +of her disobedience and deceit, and that +after she had consented to be Romeo’s. +Why, madam,” Lady Bell paused, clasped +her hands expressively, and exclaimed irrestrainably, +“I should have done the +same.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What! swallowed that horrid drug, and +taken the doubtful consequences—the only +thing certain that she should overwhelm +her father and mother and whole kindred in +a horrid waste of grief? Then, when she +did wake up in the dreadful shadowy tomb, +because the first glimmer of light proved to +her that the dangerous stratagem had been +in vain, and she had lost her lover—— My +dear, many a woman has to lose her lover,” +Miss Greathead broke off, and fanned herself, +while a quiver passed over her features. +“Think of this American war, and the +French wars, and the Scotch rebellion, and +all that they cost. But to count the world +lost, and refuse to live any longer without +the one man! It was selfish and cowardly, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>as well as blasphemous, for her to fall on +his sword, and make an end of it.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell shivered.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“There need not have been any use of +violence,” she said, after a pause, speaking +from the prompting of her heart—“unless, +indeed, it was because the young Italian +girl was too sorry for herself. A living +death would soon have killed her; and if it +had not, death in life would have been the +greater tribute of the two.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Lady Bell,” said Captain Fane in her +ear, taking her hand and holding it fast +and tight, as they left the box and wended +their slow way after Miss Greathead, whom +a friend was conducting to a coffee-house +for supper, “I have something to say to +you, and you know it, while you have not +the heart to deny me the liberty of saying +it. I am sure of this much after to-night. +Oh, the happiness of knowing that your +heart is on my side! What are the heaviest +obstacles after that gracious encouragement? +But I must speak where we shall not be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>interrupted. Will you be my love, and +will you meet me on the Mall, where I +shall be walking by nine o’clock to-morrow +morning, long before there will be any +company abroad?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell hung her head and trembled, +and would almost have drawn back, frightened +at the result which she had helped +to provoke.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You will not be true to yourself and +to me if you refuse me such an interview,” +he put it. “I shan’t detain you a moment +against your will; do you think I should, +or wilfully expose you or your good name? +Ah, never; you know me better than think +that. But although you have no parents +to control you, and are even independent +of guardians, you are so young, my darling, +that it is such a miserable match for you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Hush, hush,” Lady Bell stopped him. +“You don’t know how unworthy I am—what +a vain, pleasure-loving, headstrong +creature.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You shall have the best, the purest +<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>pleasure that I can procure for you,” +bragged Harry. “But all your friends will +oppose a marriage between us, especially at +this time, when I may get orders any day +to sail for America. Even my friends, Sir +Peter and Lady Sundon, will be scandalized—as +if their house had not proved a snare +to me, and as if they were answerable +for their pirate of a kinsman snatching at +the treasure which he came across.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I am my own mistress,” said Lady Bell, +giving a welcome specimen of the wilfulness +of which she had spoken. “No one has +any right to say anything to me against +my choice—as if I would listen!—unless +my dear Mrs. Sundon. Oh, I hope she will +not think that we have been close and sly. +I have writ and told her that I thought +one gentleman very different from the rest +whom I met in town, and that I imagined +she would like him. Only I made a mistake; +for I fancied at first that he would +be more to her taste than mine. But, sir, +I do not grant that you have any title to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>hear what I write in my private correspondence +with my friend.” She made a +faint attempt at playfulness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Don’t you?” questioned Harry, showing +that, glum as he had sometimes been +in Lady Bell’s company, his was not the +faint heart which could not win a fair lady. +“What presumption I have been guilty of! +I leaped to the conclusion that there was +to be no more secrets between us, and that +you would write to me myself for my +consolation in our parting.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>At that word of parting, Lady Bell came +fluttering down from her proud little perch, +and nestled to him in an instant.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Harry,” she said, “I shall meet you +to-morrow if you bid me. But take care +what you bid me to do, for I trust you +entirely.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“God do so and more to me, if I fail +you,” swore Harry Fane.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And don’t mind any foolish pother +people make. I shall not mind it much. +Only I hope that they will not be very +<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>rude and disagreeable on your account. +Here is the coffee-house; and mind, we +must behave ourselves, unless we would +have our engagement talked of all over the +town before it is fairly concluded.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span> + <h2 id='ch19' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XIX.</span><br> <br>THE MEETING ON THE MALL.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>By nine o’clock next morning a young +naval officer was pacing the Mall of +St. James’s under the interlaced boughs of +the still leafless trees. He formed a conspicuous +figure among the porters, tradesmen’s +boys, shopwomen, and message girls—all +who were then to be seen on the old +promenade, which had still its fashionable +frequenters at stated hours later in the day.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But conspicuous or unconspicuous, there +was no one whose observation was likely +to signify to the gentleman, or to the lady +who, taking an early walk, attended by +her maid, might encounter him, and consent +to his attendance for the rest of the way.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>The weather, which had been boasting +that spring was come a fortnight before, +had reversed its sentence—now that March +was not only coursing in the blood and in +the sap of the trees, but recorded in the +calendar—and insisted that the season was +no other than midwinter. A raw, surly east +wind was blowing; a grey sky was overhead; +the turf of the park looked pinched; +the leaflets of the trees stood arrested—their +green turned to sickly yellow. The +little birds retained their songs in their +breasts, and only chirped disconsolately in +a croaking fashion down in their throats, as +they hopped from bough to bough to keep +themselves warm.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane, with his cocked hat pulled +down to his eyebrows, looked grave and +almost grim and hard-favoured as he paced +the Mall.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane’s patience was not tried on +the occasion. He had not half crossed the +park when a little figure, guarded from the +chill morning air and from prying eyes +<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>by a furred mantle and a capuchin, came +towards him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The figure was followed by a faithful +maid in her white cap and pattens, walking +discreetly behind.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The lady advanced, woman fashion, as if +she did not see the gentleman, but had been +enticed out by the fineness of the disagreeable +morning, and by the company on the +deserted Mall. She looked over her shoulder +to speak to her maid. She tacked, as she +picked her steps from side to side of the +Mall, like one of the ships in Harry Fane’s +squadron when the wind was chopping +afresh every minute. The figure, with its +halting, wavering, but unmistakable progress +in his direction, quickened the gentleman’s +steps in accordance with his bounding pulses, +and sent him straight as a launch to meet it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane was deeply sensible of the +boon granted to him; but even as he held +Lady Bell’s hand in his own, his face continued +grave and contracted with trouble +and pain. The first words which he said +<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>as he turned and walked by her side, giving, +not offering his arm, were words of warning +in breaking bad news.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“It is well that you have been as good +as your word, dearest, well for your own +tender heart as for my comfort in remembrance, +since our first meeting is likely to +be our last. Orders from the Admiralty +were waiting my return last night. I did +not know, but it was just possible that the +<i>Thunderbomb</i> might be put in dock to lie +high and dry for months. I had even +entertained the thought—but that was before +I saw you and lost my head with my heart—ah! +sweet Bell, I’ll go bail you have much +to account for—of seeking to get an appointment +to another ship, lest I should be kept +hanging about long on shore. Long! The +time has passed like a summer day which is +all but ended. The <i>Thunderbomb</i> is to hold +itself in readiness to weigh anchor on or +about the 15th, to sail with a detachment +of troops for Boston.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had heard him without interruption +<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>till this. “Going away—away +from me, Harry?” she cried, struck heavily +by the blow, “to join the ranks of war, and +dare the stormy seas while these words we +have spoken are yet on our lips! No, no, +it cannot be.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“My love, I would I could say no and +comfort you. Guess, then, what it must be +for me to leave you,” he appealed to her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Then, don’t leave me,” said Lady Bell +desperately. “Oh, Harry Fane, I have +been so lonely all my life, an orphan, a +loveless wife—I could not help it; I could +not love poor Mr. Trevor after he had forced +me, a persecuted child, to marry him—till I +found Sunny. You need not look disappointed. +She has been the dearest, best of +friends and sisters to me; but I am frighted +I have misled her. I know I would leave +her for my lover, my true husband. Will +you leave me after this alone again? Cruel +Harry! Lady Sundon was right. You are +a hard, stubborn man.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Alas! dear, how can I help it?—I, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>who would give my best chance of promotion—well-nigh +my life, if—not the +Admiralty, but the Powers above, would +suffer me to remain with you only three +months,” he protested passionately. “It +may not be, Lady Bell—I cannot even pray +for it.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“And yet you only half approve of this +American war,” she reminded him pertinaciously.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“That is true,” he owned; “and more +than I are in the same, or a worse predicament. +Lord Effingham has followed the +example of Viscount Pitt, in requesting +leave to retire from the service; and Captain +Wilson, an Irishman, who obtained his +commission by raising a hundred and thirty +men off his own estate, and who has served +with the greatest credit for sixteen years, +has also laid down his sword.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Then why cannot you do the same?” +she implored him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Because I do not see it to be my duty,” +he said firmly. “I don’t approve of every +<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>tittle of the laws and their execution. For +instance, a miserable lad of fifteen was +hanged t’other day for some petty theft—it +may have been no more than the filching +of a sixpence, for which they tell me another +wretched fellow swung at Tyburn; +but that is not to say that I am not to +maintain the laws which are just and good +in the main. This is no time to pick holes +in the services, but to build them up with +our bodies and blood, and let reformation +follow in due time. For anything else—even +to be with you, it would be rank +selfishness.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You are too strong and wise for me,” +she complained a little bitterly, averting +her head.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“You would not have me sacrifice honour +and duty,” he pressed her in his turn, “what +every true man is bound to maintain in the +name of God and his fellows, whatever else +he give up? Remember the line of the song +you sang the last time I stood by the harpsichord +in Cleveland Court:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>‘I could not love thee, dear, so well,</div> + <div class='line'>Loved I not honour more.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c008'>Sailors, like soldiers, belong specially to +their king and country. Would you wish +your sailor to stain his blue jacket?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No, no, I would have you my best of +men,” yielded Lady Bell, with a great sob; +“but I doubt my heart is broke, for I cannot +follow you into danger, and if—if——”</p> + +<p class='c008'>She failed in framing the conclusion, that +the man she loved, and who had just told +her his love, standing there in his flower of +youth, health, and strength, might ere long +fall on the deck, slippery with blood, never +to rise again, or sink in the trough of an +engulphing wave, and be washed far beyond +the ken of friend or foe.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell broke into piteous tears. She +had been, as she said, so lonely a young +creature, constrained, in the measure, to be +self-sufficing, till she had found a friend, +and then a love.</p> + +<p class='c008'>He had taught her in the shortest space +to be prouder of his love than of all else +<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>belonging to her. She had been right willing +to lay down for him her pride of birth +and beauty and a belle’s worldly expectations. +She had consented gladly to resign +that belleship, to affront the great world, +and, as an anti-climax after her triumphs, to +make a poor love marriage.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But it was all in vain. No such voluntary +offering was required of her. Her +new-found love was snatched from her. +Her life was emptied of its fulness at the +fullest, just when she had begun to know +how rich and rapturous life might be. +“Would it have been a relief to you,” +asked Captain Fane slowly, “though I +would never have consented to your facing +hardship (‘fore George, to think of my Lady +Bell being exposed for me!)—if all this had +occurred months earlier, and in the interval +we had braved the cold displeasure, or the +hot wrath, of friends, and were wed, man +and wife, whom no man, nothing save death, +could put asunder? Would it have made +a difference if you could have gone out +<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>with me, as some of the civil authorities, +Mr. Eden and others—ay, some of the +officers too, have carried out their wives?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, Harry, it would have been heaven +compared to this!” Lady Bell assured him +fervently.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“What!” he cried, half with tender +wonder, half covetous to have the fond +assurance repeated, “you would cross the +seas, and rough it among rough sailors on +board ship, and you so young and dainty. +You would dwell among strangers, many +of them hostile—some say with a good +cause, but it is too late to do aught but +fight its righteousness or unrighteousness +now—and we sailors might be called on to +help to take stores up the country, while +we were dependent on the fidelity of our +barbarous allies, the Indians. You were +never in a foreign country. You never +even tried living on board ship.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Never, never,” corroborated Lady Bell, +so heartily, that there was something like +cheerfulness in her tone. “But I should +<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>be with you, and what would I mind +besides? Do you think I am a coward, +sir, or a peevish woman, fit for nothing but +to miss my comforts, and make a moan? +Don’t call the sailors rough, when you are +a sailor.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Then I am delivered from a very great +temptation,” admitted Harry Fane honestly.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Don’t return thanks for it,” she forbade +him quickly, “when it is my loss. Oh, +Harry! I am yours—yours in our hearts; +but I would I were yours so that no man +could contradict it, anyhow or anywhere,” +sighed Lady Bell, clinging to him with a +creeping quailing foretaste of all the evils +which might be wrought by distance, time, +the remonstrances of friends, the misrepresentations +of enemies.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span> + <h2 id='ch20' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XX.</span><br> <br>TO TIE OR NOT TO TIE THE KNOT?</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>“Take care, Lady Bell!” exclaimed Harry, +in rising agitation, “lest I’m only delivered +from one temptation to be plunged +into another.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ah! temptations have no power for +you,” proclaimed Lady Bell, with a mixture +of pride and sorrow; “you are as firm +as a rock, and as unyielding when you +think you are in the right.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Don’t be too sure,” said Captain Fane, +and she saw that he could be nervous with +all his firmness. “I have let you say how +you will want me, because it has been marrow +to my bones and joy to my heart, Bell, +when God knows I am anxious and sad +<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>enough. But at least you do not resign me +to the importunities of any rival, unless it +be to the image of Britannia herself,” he +suggested, with an effort at a jest and a +smile, “flourishing, as our general figurehead, +and to the death which she may bear +in her hand. Think what I must feel to +leave you, exposed to the cunning wiles of +all the beaux and bucks and great matches +who hunt women as men hunt game. These +men play with women, and have no remorse—for +not believing in a God in heaven, +they do not believe in a man or woman on +earth. They seek to buy women, and +sooner than be foiled in the base barter +which they propose, and be forced to confess +their titles, rent-rolls, money-bags, even +their pretty persons, disparaged, they will +try to get the better of women by cruel +arts. Such men betray women infernally.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>He had worked himself up till he was +pouring forth a torrent of rage, hatred, and +apprehension. Cold as the morning was, +he had to wipe his forehead.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>“Why, Harry!” remonstrated Lady Bell, +startled, but not altogether offended by his +jealous fury, not unwilling to be roused +from the dejection into which she was sinking, +and to be diverted for a moment from +the gloomy prospect before her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was no question of the gloom near +at hand, and to last for many a day. Come +what liked in the future, Harry Fane was +going, would go to join his ship in the first +place, and the war in the second. He might +be subjected to work, weariness, and privation, +but he had action and change for his +portion. As for her, she must abide in her +place forlorn, with the brightness passed +from the sky, and the zest gone out of the +feast. The “Lubin” of the song was indeed +on the eve of departure, of long uncertain +tarrying, perhaps till his love’s bloom +was faded, her heart withered and dry. +Lady Bell had asked once in very idleness +and restlessness, that movement, passion, +even, in its pangs, might ruffle the still +waters of her heart. They were ruffled +<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>with a vengeance, lashed into a piteous +storm, to heave and swell for many a day, +ere they settled down again in peace.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Knowing what was hanging over her, +Lady Bell was fain to forget the knowledge +for a moment, in the rousing consideration +that Captain Fane, in spite of her frank +confession, was half beside himself with +jealousy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>She did not altogether disapprove of this +state of matters, for was it not evidence of +how well the self-controlled sailor loved her?</p> + +<p class='c008'>She was a little frightened at the strength +of his passion, nevertheless. Extravagantly +as she herself had loved him, she did not +know him fully and closely, after all. One +of the charms of her love was its mystery.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell thought Harry Fane too +severe in his strictures, and certainly needing +to be pulled up and taken to task. +Aching as her heart was, she tried to make +believe for a brief space that the ache was +not there, and to do her part in enlightening +her lover.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>She began to pout with her white face +and her tearful eyes.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Would I forget you in your absence, +Harry? Could you ever believe that? +What effect would all the wicked stratagems +of the finest gentlemen have on me?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“How can I tell?” he answered gloomily. +“I found a whole hornet’s nest buzzing +round you when I met you first, and again +at the masquerade, and you did not seem +able to put them down.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Why should I put them down? They +are entitled to live as well as the rest of us, +even though a busy fellow of a bee looks +down upon them as drones or butterflies; +indeed they are rather that than hornets. +They have never done me harm, and they +have squired and amused me many a day; +you ought to be more generous to them, sir, +and to learn to keep a civil tongue in your +head.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“We have no time for quarrelling,” cried +Harry, “you may teach me better manners +one day, if we are spared and restored to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>each other, and you are still willing to undertake +the office. But I could not profit +by the best of lessons, and I submit that it +would be taking me altogether at a disadvantage +to begin when I am just about to +bid you farewell.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Not yet! not yet!” besought Lady +Bell, dislodged from her poor little temporary +cranny of arch resistance and coquettish +teasing, and stretched anew, like +another Andromeda, on a sheer precipice, +over a sea of misery, until she fell back into +her lamentation. “If we had but understood +each other faster, and been married +within these few weeks—sailors and soldiers +must woo and wed in haste—before these +terrible sailing orders arrived! Then I +could have sailed with you; I should not +have been frighted, though we had encountered +the enemy. I could have kept quiet +below, with you on deck to run to when the +guns ceased firing. I might have proved +how little I cared for any other man by +following you all over the world.”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>“You can prove it, dear,” declared Harry +Fane, hoarse with eagerness, taking her at +her word, giving the reins to his passion, +and smothering and trampling down every +doubt and scruple. “Let us be married +before I go, and although I cannot take you +with me, I may send for you to my station. +Some one of my old messmates and friends +will be glad to do as he would be done +by, and bring you out to me in his ship.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was astounded; she had been +utterly unprepared for this catching up of +her speech, heartfelt though it was.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Harry Fane rushed on, overwhelming her +with his special pleading.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“That and that alone would reassure my +mind, which is on the rack for you, exposed +on a pinnacle as you are. Don’t be vexed +with me when I say it, but you are a beautiful +woman of rank, very young, greatly +admired, as you well may be, moving in +gay worldly circles, which unsettle even a +man’s head, and throw dust in his eyes. +You have not a near relation whose right it +<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>would be to control and guide you, only such +thoughtless, irresponsible guardians as even +my good cousin! Oh! my love, how shall +I leave you thus? for God knows how +long,” he groaned in anguish, “these six—twelve +years. This horrid war has long +been hanging over us. Our American +brethren are brave and resolute as we are; +the strife may last while mother country +and colony hold out. How can I trust your +constancy exposed to such a test, assailed as +it will be when I am gone, and you a young +woman, and therefore weak, without blame +or shame to you?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“I understand,” acknowledged Lady Bell +piteously. “I am not angry with you for +distrusting me—how can I be, when I +remember how weak I was once before? +How wrong as well as weak, I know by my +love for you. I was unfair to myself and to +another. Do I not shrink from looking you +and every one in the face when I think of +my marriage? Do I not blush for the +name I bear, because of the reason for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>bearing it?—that I let myself be sold as a +chattel or a slave, rather than die free—and +I was not a loyal slave, Harry, never think +it; I revolted and fled, like many another +slave.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>He was hardly listening to her, he was so +dead set on over-persuading her and himself +that he might make her his, and that +by doing so, he would save her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Then do not risk danger again, you are +not so much older—only a tender girl of +eighteen—widow though you are. I may +not even be able to reach you with the poor +stay of letters when all your friends will be +against me. I cannot wonder and complain, +but I must think of myself and my love, +and of you and yours, for you love me, and +me only, Lady Bell, your lips have sworn it +now, over and over.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ay, and I swear it again,” averred +Lady Bell, with fond pride.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“No other man will ever be to you what +I can be. I will say more, cross-grained +sinner as I am, I honestly believe that I +<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>shall raise you, Bell, by your love, as you +will raise me by mine. Are not true lovers +made for helpmeets as well as mates? +And, although I have no cause for boasting, +less at this moment perhaps than at any +other, still, do you not love me, darling, +because you think me honest, though plain, +earnest if harsh, a little wiser in my blundering, +a little more bent on truth and +righteousness in my faultiness, than the +ruck of those heartless triflers and blasphemous +renouncers of all obligations around +you?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Have I not called you the best of +men?” boasted Lady Bell, with an immensity +of faith which might have staggered +him and opened his eyes. But he only shut +them harder, while he modestly declined the +innocent hyperbole.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, no, a prodigiously erring fellow, +and nearly mad at this moment, I suspect. +But we should walk through life hand in +hand, love, and ask to rise to the best that +nature and grace could make us. For that +<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>end we should seek to be reverent and +dutiful, and to turn our backs on vanities, +follies, and worse. It is not wrong to make +this end so sure, that if we live it cannot +be baulked, and that no one can ever more +come between us to beguile us of our faith +in God and each other.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“If I could only claim you as my wife,” +he argued unweariedly, “I should have no +fear to leave you thus solemnly bound to +me—thus able by uttering one word to +dismiss all suitors, or to consign them to +the tender mercies of a man whom you +could then call from the ends of the earth—too +happy to come, as I came to you at the +masquerade—to give you protection. My +name alone, when you choose to take it, and +replace by it the name which you tell me, +hanging your head (I cannot bear to have +my love hang her head), it is no pleasure +or pride for you to wear, would protect +you.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Ah! Harry, shall I ever wear your dear +name?”</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>“If you will, Lady Bell; and I venture +to affirm that it will shelter you as the +name of the husband of your own free +choice. In the mean time I shall be doing +my best to make my name honourable for +you. But ah, Bell, grant me my reward +now, during the few short hours which we +are yet to spend together—while it is in +your power to grant it, since it is doubtful +whether I shall ever return to claim +it.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Come back quick, Harry, and you may +blame me as you will, I shall be too happy +to be blamed by you, and to do whatever +you desire,” promised Lady Bell.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Heaven forgive my conceit, it was my +very wonder and delight, which caused me +to find fault or fret at every small mote in +my sun. But I shall not contradict or plague +you more, very likely you will soon have +seen the last of a lumpish, captious fellow, +whose greatest merit that I can see is, that +he no sooner knew you than he cast his +quips and cranks, as a misanthropic sailor, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>to the winds, and loved you with his whole +heart and soul.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>“Oh, heavens! seen the last, contradict—plague! +Harry, while you profess to love +me, how can you speak so unkind?”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span> + <h2 id='ch21' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XXI.</span><br> <br>ISLINGTON CHURCH EARLY ONE MARCH MORNING.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>Harry Fane was convinced of all that +he had said—to the extremity of the +situation which appeared to justify a violent +alternative as the only refuge from their +trouble. Naturally he succeeded in persuading +Lady Bell, while he was not even +guilty of deliberately playing upon her +feelings. He was tortured with having the +cup snatched from his lips—with doubt +and dread, and he groaned out his torture +audibly, until Lady Bell was brought to +enter but a faltering futile objection to his +desperate project.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“How can we get married so soon, nobody +<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>knowing, your cousin away, and not a +preparation made?”</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nothing more easy, as the records of the +generation showed, and as Lady Bell’s own +recollection might have told her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Even when a public marriage would be +attended with difficulties, a private marriage +could be resorted to, and had been resorted +to, more than once already by officers hastily +bound for America. These private marriages +were, according to convenience, announced +shortly after the event, or allowed gradually +to filter out in suspicious rumours, till the +secret was no secret, by the time it was +finally disclosed.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Certainly Lady Bab Yelverton, the only +child of the Earl of Suffolk, whose runaway +match had been much talked of this season, +had brought private marriages somewhat +into disgrace.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But then Lady Bab, by the way a mere +chit of a girl, two years younger than +Lady Bell, had defied parental authority in +the most daring and glaring manner; Lady +<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>Bab had gone off from her father and +mother’s house with Lieutenant Gould, just +returned from being wounded in America, +to be worse wounded by Cupid or Plutus +at home. Lord Suffolk had threatened his +daughter with his curse, and the cutting +her off with a shilling.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bab’s gross filial undutifulness was +regarded as even more reprehensible than +the Duchess of Leinster’s disregard for +maternal obligations. The duchess, who was +the widowed mother of seventeen children, +as well as “the proudest, most expensive +woman in town,” had thought fit to marry +her eldest son’s tutor.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell had no father to curse her, +and cut her off with a shilling, and in place +of seventeen chicks did not possess one +whose interest could be affected by the +acquisition of a stepfather. If Lady Bell +chose to be very imprudent, she was still +at liberty to please herself. There was only +her friend, Mrs. Sundon, whom Lady Bell +was bound to consult, and, fortunately or +<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>unfortunately, Mrs. Sundon was too far +away in the emergency to be consulted in +time.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane was his own master, save +when he was with his squadron. He had +fewer surviving relatives than Lady Bell +owned.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Why then should there be any privacy +thought of in the matter?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Because, although there were no near +relations, there were many friends, if there +was no fortune on either side to be thrown +away, there were sufficient prospects to be +sacrificed, and penalties to be incurred. +Lady Bell had been so much the rage, +been believed to have the refusing of such +excellent offers, that a host of influential +people, if they knew the reckless step which +she proposed to take, would rush in—all +the faster, that it was no particular business +of theirs—to try if they could not prevent +the shocking disaster of an attractive young +woman of rank committing an unequal love +marriage.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>Even the Sundons, who had looked on +and promoted the intimacy between the +pair, would, as Captain Fane foresaw, take +blame to themselves when it was too late +to oppose the grand conclusion of the intimacy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell for herself, and Captain Fane +for her, had a natural dislike to the exclamations, +the expostulations, and the nine +days’ wonder which they must provoke.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell would have to sustain the +scorn, to support much that was painful in +her new position, all alone, as if she were +still a widow, should she marry Captain +Fane publicly, and should he join his ship +immediately and sail on a long voyage with +sea-fights in the distance.</p> + +<p class='c008'>On the other hand, Lady Bell and Captain +Fane might marry as many of their compeers +married, secretly, keep their own counsel, +and none be any the wiser, till the gentleman +returned to make known the marriage +and claim his wife.</p> + +<p class='c008'>No doubt that was the line of argument +<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>followed and found satisfactory long ago by +men and women, honourable otherwise, who +allowed themselves to become involved in +the compromises, the concealments, the +double dealings, and the acted lies of private +marriages, for which the principals were +not condemned by their contemporaries.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In justice alike to our progenitors and to +ourselves, we crave leave to remember, that +just as our grandfathers and grandmothers +managed to combine in their portly and +stately persons, along with a foreground of +magnificence and elegance, a background of +slipshodness and sluttishness, so, even where +their virtues were admirable, still their +manly morals were laxer, and their womanly +manners less delicate, than the morals and +manners of the present generation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There was one obstacle to a private marriage +in Lady Bell’s case, which nearly +compelled the couple to brave public clamour +and indignation. Lady Bell was a minor. +Captain Fane, in despair at this difficulty, +hurried like a madman, braving all imputations, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>to the most notorious gaming-houses +in town where Squire Godwin’s whereabouts +might be discovered.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The gallant Captain proposed, failing +every other resource, to make a forlorn +appeal to Lady Bell’s nearest relations.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The gentleman was luckier than he deserved, +he stumbled on the very man he +sought, who was in London unknown to +Lady Bell, and unencountered by her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane and Squire Godwin had +an interview, during which the former succeeded +in coming to an arrangement with +the latter, but by what representation and +inducement, by what descent to lower depths +on the part of the ruined gentleman, and +by what ill-bestowal of a portion of Harry +Fane’s last prize-money, never transpired. +The transaction was not likely to be reported +by Mr. Godwin, neither was it one on +which Harry Fane would care to look +back.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane, however, took the precaution +of introducing Squire Godwin for +<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>a few moments to the Sundons’ house in +Cleveland Court.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell met her uncle for the first time +since her marriage to Squire Trevor. She +could not help regarding Squire Godwin as +a bird of evil omen. His appearance on the +scene, like a malignant spectre at the critical +juncture, was a shock to Lady Bell, and +smote her, while it lasted, with blank confusion +and consternation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Mr. Godwin’s stay was short, since +the master of the house was kept in the +dark as to the origin of a visit which he +did not relish, and for bringing about which +he did not thank Captain Fane.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Sir Peter was ready to shake himself up +and put a stop to the intrusion, while he +prevented any attempt which it might imply +of the resumption of authority by Squire +Godwin over his niece, Lady Bell Trevor, +Sir Peter’s honoured guest.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mr. Godwin did not wait to be dismissed, +he took his leave, giving Lady Bell, in her +agitation, a dim impression that while his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>air was as distinguished as ever, in the +studied carelessness—of which the study +was so perfect, that it became invisible—and +his dress as irreproachable, every line +in his handsome person was drawn more +deeply and sharply. Crows’ toes and furrows +had multiplied incalculably, till the +wrinkles of premature old age were shrivelling +and wizening his face. The once noble +field was all covered over with cramped, +contracted, ugly hand-writing.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell could not so much as rally +breath and courage to inquire for her Aunt +Die. She was so simple and ignorant, that +she did not even guess what had brought +her lover into strange contact and alliance +with Squire Godwin, or how the latter came +by the knowledge, the merest whisper of +which was sufficient to cause her to leap +from her chair, for Mr. Godwin contrived +in his brief greetings to say one or two +pertinent words aside to her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The Squire addressed Lady Bell Trevor +with a little more consideration than he had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>been wont to bestow on Lady Bell Etheredge, +but there remained the echo of the +old contempt in the tone of his speech.</p> + +<p class='c008'>“So you think to contract a second marriage, +madam; well, matrimony is honourable, +though I have not tried it on my own +account. I am sorry that I cannot say +much for the wisdom of the step in this +instance, but I do not presume to advise, +far less to interfere. It says much for the +happiness of the last knot (eh! my Lady +Bell?) that you are so keen to tie another.”</p> + +<p class='c008'>The one difficulty overcome, the remainder +of the scheme was even exceptionally practicable, +and circumstances like cards played +themselves, as it were, in Captain Fane’s +and Lady Bell’s hand.</p> + +<p class='c008'>A letter arrived from Lady Sundon to +inform Sir Peter in particular and “all +friends who were interested,” that her boy +was in a fair way of recovery, but still +called for not less than a month’s nursing +from her and Lyddy.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the delay, Sir Peter, who was miserable, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>left in town with only Nancy of all +his family, and who had got all that he could +expect from the opinion of the medical men, +resolved to break up his establishment in +London for the season, return to Sundon +Green, and await his wife there.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Thus the best pretext was afforded gratis +to Lady Bell for sincerely assuring Sir Peter, +with grateful mention of his hospitality, +that he need not have any hesitation on her +account. Her visit had already extended +beyond its proposed limits. Mrs. Sundon +was anxious for Lady Bell’s return. Lady +Bell herself was beginning to long to be out +of the racket which had made a fine change, +but which she did not affect for a continuance, +and to be at home again and settled +down quietly at Summerhill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But first Lady Bell had to spend a few +days at the village of Islington, with her +old nurse at Lady Lucie Penruddock’s.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The nurse’s accommodation was so scanty, +that Lady Bell could not take her maid. +Lady Bell would come back to Cleveland +<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>Court to fetch the servant, when Sir Peter +kindly arranged to send his old coachman +to be their escort to Lumley, before the +Sundons themselves went into the country.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Nothing could be more proper and obliging. +In the meantime, Captain Fane had +taken leave of his friends in town, and +started for Portsmouth, but he journeyed +by a roundabout road, and halted on the +way.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell did think that fate had been +against her, when she was constrained to +accomplish a second marriage, shorn like +the first of all state and splendour. But +there was no help for it.</p> + +<p class='c008'>In the parish church of Islington, attended +by her nurse, and given away by a friend of +the nurse’s, with the clerk and the pew-opener +to serve as additional witnesses, early +one stormy March morning, Lady Bell was +lawfully married to Harry Fane.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span> + <h2 id='ch22' class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CHAPTER XXII.</span><br> <br>BACK AT SUMMERHILL.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c007'>It was like a dream to Lady Bell as she +travelled back to Summerhill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There passed in review before her, like +the shifting scenes of a dream, her London +season and its triumphs, the love which had +taken her by storm in the middle of the +world’s vanities, the declaration of love after +the play, the announcement on the Mall of +the arrival of Harry Fane’s sailing orders, +the visit to Islington, the hasty private marriage, +and at last the wrench with which +the bridegroom had torn himself from his +bride.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Could it all have happened to Lady Bell, +and was she really a new creature, belonging +<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>to another, and bearing another name—his +precious name, if the truth were known?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Or had she only awakened from a dream? +The dream might have passed with the +bleakness and storms, which were over and +gone, while in their place had come the +March of daffodils and bluebells ready to +welcome her back to Summerhill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Ah! no, Lady Bell was a new creature. +Her heart was at the sea. These land +charms had become stale, flat, and unprofitable +to her, since he was not there to +share them. She would give them all +willingly for a taste of the breeze, salt on +her lips. Her eyes filled with tears, “idle +tears,” at the sight of a flock of curlews +hovering over a waste and recalling to her +sea-gulls skimming the waves. Her whole +being seemed dissolving in yearning and +longing for her lover and husband. Existence +would not be worth having till he was +restored to her.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But, in the first place, how was Lady +Bell to present herself to her dear Mrs. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>Sundon?—how account for the transformation +in her to those penetrating eyes, and +that wise, experienced heart, unless by confiding +the truth to Mrs. Sundon? And, in +that case, how was she to obtain forgiveness +for the march which she had stolen +on her friend?</p> + +<p class='c008'>Captain Fane had left Lady Bell free to +take what friends she chose into the secret. +It was on her account, rather than on his, +that a secret had been made.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell had no thought but of telling +the story to “Sunny” some time—long before +Captain Fane’s return.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But there was no question that the telling +would call for an effort on Lady Bell’s +part, tell when she might. There would be +more than a breach of confidence to receive +forgiveness—more, even, than the assertion +of Lady Bell’s independence—there would +be her subjugation to the powerful influence +of another, which had superseded Mrs. Sundon’s +influence.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The deed was done, yet Lady Bell felt +<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>more unequal than ever to the sensation +that she would create; the remonstrances, +useless though they must be, which she +would raise, the reflections that might be +cast on another, the offence that might be +taken by a friend to whom she had not +ceased to be warmly attached. In fact, +instead of loving her neighbour less, because +of the one great central human love, +she seemed to grow specially tender to the +wrongs and smarts of every human creature, +all for one mortal man’s dear sake.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Withal, the bashfulness of the acknowledged +bride was quadrupled in the unacknowledged +bride. True, Lady Bell had +been married before, but that marriage had +been altogether different—such a miserable +travesty and poor mockery, that Lady Bell +actually cried over the remembrance of her +old self, and the dead Squire, for what they +had defrauded each other of, and been defrauded +of, many a time, during the first +weeks of her marriage to Harry Fane.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It felt so strange to see Summerhill again.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>There was the dainty, slightly fantastic +women’s house and grounds exactly as she +had left them, but surely with a failure in +their qualities which she had not distinguished +before.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The place presented the same want of +shade and substance which Queen Elizabeth +had specially requested might be made in +her picture. And the traits of life at +Summerhill had corresponded with Queen +Elizabeth’s idea that she and her maids +should eat in private of the lightest and +most refined viands, while the ladies left +all that was solid and strong to the grosser +appetites and needs of the gentlemen.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Everything at Summerhill was fresh and +feminine to a degree; but there was a suspicion +of flimsiness and make-believe in the +very delicacy and over-abundance of knick-knacks, +where two young women had kept +house together, and sworn unalterable first +friendship, presuming to turn the course of +nature, like these sister figures away among +the Welsh mountains.</p> + +<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>To recognise Summerhill the same as +she had left it, and yet to look on it with +different eyes, knowing all the time that +the difference lay in her own eyes, was a +singular half-remorseful experience to Lady +Bell. She was almost glad that Mrs. Sundon +did not hear the carriage-wheels and run +out to meet her. There was only Caro in +her nurse’s arms at the door. It was a +positive relief to see that Caro, quite in +the course of nature, had grown by the +addition of a few more months to her short +lease of life, until there was some risk at +her not knowing Caro, in addition to the +apprehended risk of Caro’s not knowing +Lady Bell. There was comfort in finding +that anybody, even Caro, had undergone a +change, because of the tremendous change +in Lady Bell, of which she was tremblingly +conscious. She should be thankful when +the meeting with her friend was over.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell hurried, stumbling in her +habit, into the bright little parlour—blindingly +bright, and at the same time empty +<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>it looked, though it had the fine presence +of Mrs. Sundon advancing to its threshold.</p> + +<p class='c008'>There were two little cries of “Bell,” +“Sunny,” which had a rush of old familiar +affection in their tones that meant kisses—perfectly +hearty and sincere in their fondness, +and a little laughter, with twinkled-away +tears.</p> + +<p class='c008'>These tears seemed natural enough when +Lady Bell was weary after an exciting +journey, and Mrs. Sundon might be wearier +still with waiting, and with staying all +alone, having had no cheerful young friend +at hand to dissipate grievous memories.</p> + +<p class='c008'>It seemed to Lady Bell as if a cloud of +anticipated awkwardness and indefinable +constraint and distress had burst and +vanished, as such clouds will sometimes +vanish at the moment of contact. She had +found again her indulgent, magnanimous +Mrs. Sundon, on whose favour and generosity +Lady Bell could throw herself confidently—only +she would spare both her +<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>friend and herself in the first hours of their +meeting.</p> + +<p class='c008'>When Lady Bell had composed herself +to scrutinize and draw conclusions, it struck +her with quick pain that Sunny was looking +ill.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Mrs. Sundon wore an exceedingly simple +muslin dress, with the tight sleeves ending +in frills at the wrist, and falling over the +hands, the neckerchief being surmounted +with the same wide plaited frills, out of +which rose the fair pillar of the throat, like +the neck of a white heifer out of a garland.</p> + +<p class='c008'>But Lady Bell had never seen the grand +womanly proportions brought nearer to the +spareness of attenuation, while the face was +almost wan in its colourlessness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Clearly Mrs. Sundon had not been flourishing +on keeping house alone; she had been +wont to treat “nerves” and “vapours”—regarded +as bodily complaints, with lofty +derision and condemnation; yet her own +nerves were unstrung, for she continued, +though she did not allow it in words, to be +<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>agitated by Lady Bell’s arrival. There was +a stir and quiver of Mrs. Sundon’s features +as of a rock which had been disturbed and +shaken, and could not at once regain its +entire balance and firm quietude.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell could not account for the involuntary +disturbance and the striving in +vain to overcome it, in her friend’s expressive +face, and in her cold passive hand, +which shook sensibly in Lady Bell’s feverish +clasp, unless it were that Mrs. Sundon’s +health had become impaired.</p> + +<p class='c008'>If that were so, there must be laid to +Lady Bell’s charge, among other acts of +wilfulness and indiscretion, an ungracious +oversight—the friend who had been so good +to Lady Bell had pined in her absence, and +had been left to pine.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Or was it simply the disturbance in Lady +Bell’s own flushed face, the thrilling of her +own pulses, which her morbid fancy and +guilty conscience transferred to her poor +abused friend?</p> + +<p class='c008'>No; here was an absent-minded, distrait +<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>woman, who had to assume an interest which +she did not feel, in narratives that ought to +have been, from her old familiarity with the +scene, and her sisterly regard for the heroine, +stimulating and engrossing in their effect +upon the listener.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell was conscious of this while she +sat chattering incessantly of all her different +adventures, at the auctions and the routs, +and was not once pulled up and brought to +book by such searching cross-examination +as the judge, jury, and counsel for the prosecution +combined in the old Sunny, would +have known well how to conduct.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Even when Lady Bell forced her tripping +tongue to speak Captain Fane’s name, while +her eyes fell convicted, until their lashes +rested on her cheeks dyed with burning +blushes, she might have spared herself the +trepidation and terror of instant discovery. +Sunny’s mind was wool-gathering, and she +did not recall her scattered faculties to make +a single observation.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Lady Bell would have begun to have a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>revulsion of feeling, and, from being chilled, +would have been mortified had she not been +alarmed.</p> + +<p class='c008'>As the day wore on, however, Lady Bell +talked and talked her friend out of her +stupor, and procured a measure of response +in home news. These were but vapid concerns +now to Lady Bell, but she was not +going to betray her conviction of their +vapidness.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Caro had cut ever so many teeth. The +stubble chickens were ready for killing. +The Spanish jasmine had survived the +winter. The mayor and the good people of +Lumley and Nutfield were all well, and,—oh +yes, Master Charles had got his colours, +and was going up to town to practise drill +with the awkward squad in the reserve of +his regiment, before he joined the main body +somewhere in the colonies—Mrs. Sundon +had forgotten exactly where. No, she could +not say that she was vastly sorry for Miss +Kingscote, as the young fellow was fulfilling +his calling, and going where duty and the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>prospect of promotion, whether it were by +life or death, called him.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The last words, in answer to Lady Bell’s +sympathetic inquiry, were spoken so shortly +as to remind Lady Bell that there was a +worse end than that of death in Mrs. Sundon’s +experience.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div>END OF VOL II.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> + <div class='nf-center'> + <div><span class='small'>PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO., CITY ROAD, LONDON.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +<h2>FOOTNOTE</h2> +</div> +<div class='footnote' id='fA'> +<p class='c008'><span class='label'><a href='#rA'>1</a>.  </span>This is a double anachronism, Mrs. Siddons did not play +in town again till later, and did not play Juliet till later still.</p> +</div> + <hr class='pb c001'> + +<div class='tnotes'> + +<h2>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</h2> +<div class='ttext'> + +<p class='c008'>Perceived typos have been silently corrected.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> + +<p class='c008'>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p class='c008'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +<p class='c008'>The footnote has been relocated to the end of the text.</p> + +</div> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78326 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57i (with regex) on 2026-03-26 22:23:22 GMT --> +</html> diff --git a/78326-h/images/cover.jpg b/78326-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f142e35 --- /dev/null +++ b/78326-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/78326-h/images/ititle.jpg b/78326-h/images/ititle.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0f45ae0 --- /dev/null +++ b/78326-h/images/ititle.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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