MUSIC.
Griselda Mainwaring was up very much earlier than Lady Betty on all
occasions, but on the morning after the ball in Wiltshire's Rooms she
was dressed and in the sitting-room before her ladyship had made any
sign of lifting her heavy head from the pillow. Heavy, indeed, as she
had been too cross and too tired to allow Graves to touch the erection
of powder and puff, which had cost Mr. Perkyns so many sighs.
Griselda had taken down her own hair without help, and had shaken the
powder out of its heavy masses--no easy task, and requiring great
patience.
"I will forswear powder henceforth," she said, as she looked at herself
in the glass. "Lady Betty says truly, powder must go with paint. I will
have neither."
So the long, abundant tresses were left to their own sweet will, their
lustre dimmed by the remains of the powder at the top, but the under
tresses were falling in all their rippling beauty over her shoulders.
Amelia Graves brought her a cup of chocolate and some finger-biscuits,
saying:
"Her ladyship has already had two breakfasts, and after the last has
gone off to sleep again."
"I hope she will remember she promised to go to Mr. Herschel's musical
reunion," Griselda said. "If not, Graves, I must go alone; I must
indeed. You will send the boy Zack for a chair, won't you?"
"More of the gay world! Ah, my dear, I do pity you."
"Gay world! Well, I know nothing that lifts one above it as music does.
I am no longer the pleasure-seeker then?"
Graves shook her head, and, getting a long wrapper, she covered Griselda
with it, and began to comb and brush the hair which nearly touched the
floor as it hung over the back of the chair.
"Come, I will gather the hair up for you. Well, it's a natural gift
coming from God, and the Word says long hair is a glory to a woman, or
I'd say it ought to be cut close. It is like your poor mother's, poor
lady!" It was very seldom that Graves or anyone else referred to the
sister of Mr. Longueville, who had disgraced herself by a _mesalliance_.
"Poor thing!--ah, poor thing! it all came of her love of the world and
the lust of the flesh."
Griselda's proud nature always felt a pain like a sword-thrust when her
dead mother was spoken of.
"Don't talk of her, Graves, unless you can speak kindly. You know I told
you this the other day."
"Well, I don't wish to be unkind; but when a lady of high birth marries
a wretched playwright, a buffoon----"
"Stop!" Griselda exclaimed. "No more of this. If you can be neither
respectful nor kind, say no more."
"Well, my dear, there are times when I see your mother over again in
you, and I tremble," said poor Graves, "yes, I shudder. If a bad man got
hold of you, what then? I have my fears. It's out of love I speak."
Griselda was touched at once.
"I know it--I know, dear old Graves," she said. "There are few enough to
care about me, or whether bad or good men are in my company. That is
true, and I am glad you care," she added, springing up, and, throwing
off the wrapper, she bent her stately head and kissed the lined, rugged
cheek, down which a single tear was silently falling. "Dear old 'Melia,
I am sure you love me, and I will keep out of the hands of bad men and
women too. I want to go to-day to see a good, brave woman who sings
divinely, and whose whole life is devoted to her brother--a wonderful
musician."
"Musician, yes. Music--music----"
"But, to other things also; Mr. Herschel studies the wonders of the
heavens, and is measuring the mountains in the moon and searching
star-depths."
"A pack of nonsense!" said Graves, recovering herself from the passing
wave of sentiment which had swept over her. "A pack of nonsense! I take
the stars as God set them in the heavens--to give light with the
moon--and I want to know no more than the Word teaches me. The sun to
rule by day, the moon and stars to rule by night. There! I hear her
ladyship. Yes, I'll order the chair--maybe two; but you'll dine first?
Her ladyship said she should dine at two--late enough."
"Well, make haste and get her up, and stroke her the right way."
"Ah, that's not easy. There's always a crop of bristles sticking up
after a night's work like the last. It's the way of the natural man, and
we must just put up with it."
There could be no doubt that when Lady Betty at last presented herself
from the room opening from the drawing-room she was in a bad mood, and
Griselda said "her chance of getting to the Herschels' was remote if it
depended on her will."
Lady Betty yawned and grumbled, and taxed Griselda with stupidity; and
said by her airs she had affronted one of the best friends she, a poor
widow, had.
"Sir Maxwell won't stand to be flouted by you, miss--a man of _ton_ like
him; and _you_--well, I do not tell tales, or I might ruin your chance
of matrimony."
Griselda's eyes flashed angrily; and then, recovering herself, she said:
"At what hour shall we order the chairs?"
"The chairs?--who said I wanted a chair? I am too worn out--too tired. I
vow I can scarcely endure myself. However, it might kill time to go to
listen to 'too-ti-toos' on that horrid big instrument. When Mr. Herschel
played on it the other night, I could think of nothing but a wretch
groaning in limbo. Ah, dear! Come, read the news; there ought to be
something droll in the Bath paper. I have no appetite. I am afraid I am
no better for the waters. But I must drag my poor little self up
to-morrow, and be at the Pump Room early. One is sure to hear a little
gossip there, thank goodness."
It was by no means an easy task to prepare the drawing-room at the
Herschels' house for a rehearsal. Instruments of every kind blocked the
way, and these were not all musical instruments. Then there was the
arranging of the parts; the proper disposal of the music; the seats for
the guests who might happen to drop in, for these receptions answered,
perhaps, to the informal "at home" days of our own society of these
later times, when "at home," written on the ordinary visiting-card,
signifies that all who like to come are supposed to be welcome.
Caroline Herschel went about her preparations with the same steady
perseverance which characterized everything she did. Her servant was one
of her trials--I must almost say her greatest trial--at this time. If
ever her temper failed her, it was at some misdemeanour of the
handmaiden who, for the time, filled the part of general helper in Miss
Herschel's household.
Like most of her countrywomen, neatness and order were indispensable to
her comfort; and think, then, what the constant intrusion into every
corner of the house of lathes and turning-machines, of compasses and
glasses, and mirrors and polishing apparatus must have been! No wonder
that the English or Welsh servant, however willing, failed to meet her
mistress's requirements.
On this occasion she had, with the best intention, bustled about; but
had always done precisely the reverse of what she was told to do.
At last, breaking out into German invective, her mistress had given her
a rather decided push from the room, and had called Alexander to come to
her rescue.
"The slut! Look at the dust on the harpsichord! Did I not tell her to
remove every speck before it was placed by the window? I would fifty
times sooner do all the work myself. What would our mother say at all
this?"
"Heaven knows!" Alex said, laughing. "But, sister, the room looks spick
and span; and here is an arrival."
"It is only Mr. Travers; he is to play the second violin. Entertain him,
Alex, while I go and make my toilette."
Repairing to the humble bedroom, which was really the only space
allotted to her--or, rather, that she allotted to herself--she changed
her morning-wrapper for a sacque of pale blue, and twisted a ribbon to
match it in her fair hair. As she was descending again to the
drawing-room, she heard her brother William's voice.
"I have concluded the business about the removal to King Street, and we
must make the move as soon as possible."
"Now--at once?"
"Yes; the garden slopes well to the river. There will be a magnificent
sky-line, and room for the great venture. The casting of the great
thirty-foot----"
"Yes, William--yes; but the people are arriving, and you must be in your
place downstairs."
Then Mr. Herschel, with the marvellous power of self-control which
distinguished him, laid aside the astronomer and became the musician,
playing a solo on the harpsichord to a delighted audience; and then
accompanying his sister in the difficult songs in "Judas Maccabaeus,"
which hitherto only the beautiful Miss Linley had attempted in Bath
society.
In one of the pauses in the performance the door opened, and Alex
Herschel went forward to meet Lady Betty Longueville and Miss
Mainwaring. He presented them to his brother and sister; and Lady Betty
passed smiling and bowing up the room, while Griselda moved behind her
with stately grace and dignity.
But Lady Betty was not the greatest lady in the company; for the
Marchioness of Lothian was present, and was making much of Miss
Herschel, and complimenting her on the excellence, not only of her
singing, but of her pronunciation of English. The huge Lady Cremorne was
also amongst the audience, and flattered the performers; and Lady Betty,
wishing to be in the fashion, began to talk of the music as "ravishing,"
and especially that "dear, delicious violoncello" of Mr. Herschel's.
Mr. Travers had some difficulty in keeping his place in the trio which
he played with the two Herschels, so attracted was he by the face of the
rapt listener who sat opposite him, drinking in the strains of those
wonderful instruments, which, under skilful hands, wake the soul's
melodies as nothing else has the power to wake them.
They called Miss Linley "Saint Cecilia." Mr. Travers thought "sure
there never was one more like a saint than she who is here to-day." It
was a dream of bliss to him, till a dark shadow awoke him to the reality
of a hated presence.
Sir Maxwell Danby and young Lord Basingstoke had appeared, and stood at
the farther end of the room--Sir Maxwell fingering his silver snuff-box,
and shaking out his handkerchief, edged with lace and heavily perfumed;
while Lord Basingstoke looked round as if seeking someone; and Lady
Betty, taking it for granted that she was the person he sought, stood
up, and beckoned with her fan for him to take a vacant place by her
side.
This suited Sir Maxwell's purpose, and he said:
"Go forward when the siren calls or beckons. Don't be modest, dear boy!
What! must I make the way easy?" whereupon Sir Maxwell bowed, and
elbowed his way to the top of the room; and Lord Basingstoke found
himself left to Lady Betty, while Sir Maxwell dropped on a chair by
Griselda's side.
Miss Herschel was just beginning to sing the lovely song "Rejoice
Greatly;" and Griselda, spell-bound, became unconscious of the presence
of Sir Maxwell, or of anyone else. There was only one person for her
just then in the world--nay, it was scarcely the person, but the gift
which she possessed.
Caroline Herschel had at this time attained a very high degree of
excellence in her art, and Mr. Palmer, the proprietor of the Bath
Theatre, had pronounced her likely to be an ornament to the stage. She
never sang in public unless her brother was the conductor, and
resolutely declined an engagement offered her for the Birmingham
Festival. Anything apart from him lost its charm, and nothing could
tempt her to leave him. Her singing was but a means to an end, and that
end was to help her brother in those aspirations, which reached to the
very heavens themselves.
It is the most remarkable instance on record of a love which was wholly
pure and unselfish, and yet almost entirely free from anything like
romance or sentiment, for Caroline Herschel was an eminently practical
person!
At the close of the performance, Mr. Herschel told the audience that he
should not be able to receive his friends till January, and then he
hoped to resume his reunions in his new house in King Street.
"But," he added, "my sister and myself can still give lessons to our
pupils at their own homes, if so they please."
"What marvellous people you are!" said Lady Cremorne in her loud,
grating voice. "Most folks when they change their houses are all in a
fuss and worry. You talk of it as if you carried your household gods on
your back."
"So we do, your ladyship," William Herschel said, with a smile. "I doubt
whether my sister or myself would allow any hands but our own to touch
some of our possessions."
"Your telescopes, and those wonderful mirrors. Ah! here comes Dr.
Watson. I saw him in the Pump Room this forenoon, and says he, 'I vow I
saw the mountains in the moon through a wonderful instrument last
night.'"
"And the little man in the moon dancing on the top of it, no doubt,"
said a voice.
William Herschel turned upon the dandy, with his lace ruffles and his
elegant coat, a look that none might envy, as he said:
"Sir Maxwell, when you have studied the wonders of the heavens, you will
scarce turn them into a childish jest."
The room was thinning now, and Griselda lingered. Lady Betty was too
much engrossed with trying to ingratiate herself with the Marchioness to
take any heed of her, and she had gone down to her chair, conducted by
Alexander Herschel, without noticing that Griselda was not following
her.
This was Griselda's opportunity. She went up to Miss Herschel and said:
"I want--I long to learn to play on some instrument. I could never sing
like you, but I feel I could make the violin speak. Will you ask your
brother if I may have lessons?"
Caroline Herschel was not a demonstrative person, and she said quietly:
"My brother will, no doubt, arrange to attend you. As you heard, Miss
Mainwaring, we are soon to be involved in a removal to a house better
suited to his purpose."
"But sure this is a charming room for music, and----"
"I was not then speaking of music, but of my brother's astronomical
work."
"Ah! I had heard of that for the first time last night. It was you,
sir"--turning to Mr. Travers--"who spoke of the wonders Mr. Herschel
discovered in the sky. But where is Lady Betty? I must not linger,"
Griselda said, looking round the room, now nearly empty.
"Her ladyship has taken leave, I think. May I have the honour of seeing
you to North Parade?"
"I thank you, sir; but I have a chair in attendance."
Mr. Travers bowed.
"Then I will act footman, and walk by the side of the chair, with your
permission, and feel proud to do so."
"Then may I hope that Mr. Herschel will give me lessons?" Griselda said.
"But," she hesitated, "there is one thing I ought to say--I am poor."
"Poor!"
Caroline Herschel allowed the word to escape unawares.
"Yes, you may be astonished; but it is true. I am a dependent on Lady
Betty Longueville. I was," with a little ironical laugh, which had a
ring of bitterness in it--"I was left by my uncle, Mr. Longueville, to
Lady Betty for maintenance. I am an orphan, and often very lonely. The
world of Bath is new to me. I know nothing of the ways of fine people
such as I meet here. But I have some trinkets which were my mother's,
and I would gladly sell them, if only," and she clasped her hands as if
praying for a favour to be conferred--"if only I could gain what I most
covet--lessons in music. I have a violin. I bought it with the money I
received for a pearl-brooch. The necklace which matches this brooch is
still mine. Its price would pay for many lessons. I would so thankfully
sell it to attain this end."
Griselda, usually so calm and dignified, was changed into an enthusiast
by the strong desire kindled within her, to be instructed in the
practice of music.
"Here is my brother Alex!" Caroline Herschel said. "I will refer the
matter to him. This lady, Alex, wishes to become a pupil on the violin."
"And to sing also," Griselda said eagerly.
"It can be arranged certainly. I will let you know more, madam, when I
have consulted my brother."
"There are loud voices below, Alex. Is anything amiss?"
"Two gentlemen have had an unseemly wrangle," Alex said, "and in the
midst Dr. Watson arrived, and a poor child begging. It is over now, and
your chair waits, Miss Mainwaring."