CAMILLA TRIUMPHANT.
[Illustration]
It was now New Year's day, and there was some grief and perhaps more
excitement in Exeter,--for it was rumoured that Miss Stanbury lay
very ill at her house in the Close. But in order that our somewhat
uneven story may run as smoothly as it may be made to do, the little
history of the French family for the intervening months shall be told
in this chapter, in order that it may be understood how matters were
with them when the tidings of Miss Stanbury's severe illness first
reached their house at Heavitree.
After that terrible scene in which Miss Stanbury had so dreadfully
confounded Mr. Gibson by declaring the manner in which he had been
rebuffed by Dorothy, the unfortunate clergyman had endeavoured to
make his peace with the French family by assuring the mother that in
very truth it was the dearest wish of his heart to make her daughter
Camilla his wife. Mrs. French, who had ever been disposed to favour
Arabella's ambition, well knowing its priority and ancient right,
and who of late had been taught to consider that even Camilla had
consented to waive any claim that she might have once possessed,
could not refrain from the expression of some surprise. That he
should be recovered at all out of the Stanbury clutches was very
much to Mrs. French,--was so much that, had time been given her for
consideration, she would have acknowledged to herself readily that
the property had best be secured at once to the family, without
incurring that amount of risk which must unquestionably attend any
attempt on her part to direct Mr. Gibson's purpose hither or thither.
But the proposition came so suddenly that time was not allowed to her
to be altogether wise. "I thought it was poor Bella," she said, with
something of a piteous whine in her voice. At the moment Mr. Gibson
was so humble, that he was half inclined to give way even on that
head. He felt himself to have been brought so low in the market by
that terrible story of Miss Stanbury's,--which he had been unable
either to contradict or to explain,--that there was but little power
of fighting left in him. He was, however, just able to speak a word
for himself, and that sufficed. "I hope there has been no mistake,"
he said; "but really it is Camilla that has my heart." Mrs. French
made no rejoinder to this. It was so much to her to know that Mr.
Gibson's heart was among them at all after what had occurred in
the Close, that she acknowledged to herself after that moment of
reflection that Arabella must be sacrificed for the good of the
family interests. Poor, dear, loving, misguided, and spiritless
mother! She would have given the blood out of her bosom to get
husbands for her daughters, though it was not of her own experience
that she had learned that of all worldly goods a husband is the best.
But it was the possession which they had from their earliest years
thought of acquiring, which they first expected, for which they had
then hoped, and afterwards worked and schemed and striven with every
energy,--and as to which they had at last almost despaired. And now
Arabella's fire had been rekindled with a new spark, which, alas,
was to be quenched so suddenly! "And am I to tell them?" asked
Mrs. French, with a tremor in her voice. To this, however, Mr.
Gibson demurred. He said that for certain reasons he should like a
fortnight's grace; and that at the end of the fortnight he would
be prepared to speak. The interval was granted without further
questions, and Mr. Gibson was allowed to leave the house.
After that Mrs. French was not very comfortable at home. As soon as
Mr. Gibson had departed, Camilla at once returned to her mother and
desired to know what had taken place. Was it true that the perjured
man had proposed to that young woman in the Close? Mrs. French was
not clever at keeping a secret, and she could not keep this by her
own aid. She told all that happened to Camilla, and between them
they agreed that Arabella should be kept in ignorance till the fatal
fortnight should have passed. When Camilla was interrogated as to
her own purpose, she said she should like a day to think of it. She
took the twenty-four hours, and then made the following confession
of her passion to her mother. "You see, mamma, I always liked Mr.
Gibson,--always."
"So did Arabella, my dear,--before you thought of such things."
"I dare say that may be true, mamma; but that is not my fault. He
came here among us on such sweetly intimate terms that the feeling
grew up with me before I knew what it meant. As to any idea of
cutting out Arabella, my conscience is quite clear. If I thought
there had been anything really between them I would have gone
anywhere,--to the top of a mountain,--rather than rob my sister of a
heart that belonged to her."
"He has been so slow about it," said Mrs. French.
"I don't know about that," said Camilla. "Gentlemen have to be
slow, I suppose, when they think of their incomes. He only got St.
Peter's-cum-Pumpkin three years ago, and didn't know for the first
year whether he could hold that and the minor canonry together. Of
course a gentleman has to think of these things before he comes
forward."
"My dear, he has been very backward."
"If I'm to be Mrs. Gibson, mamma, I beg that I mayn't hear anything
said against him. Then there came all this about that young woman;
and when I saw that Arabella took on so,--which I must say was very
absurd,--I'm sure I put myself out of the way entirely. If I'd buried
myself under the ground I couldn't have done it more. And it's my
belief that what I've said, all for Arabella's sake, has put the old
woman into such a rage that it has made a quarrel between him and the
niece; otherwise that wouldn't be off. I don't believe a word of her
refusing him, and never shall. Is it in the course of things, mamma?"
Mrs. French shook her head. "Of course not. Then when you question
him,--very properly,--he says that he's devoted to--poor me. If I was
to refuse him, he wouldn't put up with Bella."
"I suppose not," said Mrs. French.
"He hates Bella. I've known it all along, though I wouldn't say
so. If I were to sacrifice myself ever so it wouldn't be of any
good,--and I shan't do it." In this way the matter was arranged.
At the end of the fortnight, however, Mr. Gibson did not come,--nor
at the end of three weeks. Inquiries had of course been made, and it
was ascertained that he had gone into Cornwall for a parson's holiday
of thirteen days. That might be all very well. A man might want the
recruiting vigour of some change of air after such scenes as those
Mr. Gibson had gone through with the Stanburys, and before his
proposed encounter with new perils. And he was a man so tied by the
leg that his escape could not be for any long time. He was back
on the appointed Sunday, and on the Wednesday Mrs. French, under
Camilla's instruction, wrote to him a pretty little note. He replied
that he would be with her on the Saturday. It would then be nearly
four weeks after the great day with Miss Stanbury, but no one would
be inclined to quarrel with so short a delay as that. Arabella in the
meantime had become fidgety and unhappy. She seemed to understand
that something was expected, being quite unable to guess what that
something might be. She was true throughout these days to the
simplicity of head-gear which Mr. Gibson had recommended to her,
and seemed in her questions to her mother and to Camilla to be more
fearful of Dorothy Stanbury than of any other enemy. "Mamma, I think
you ought to tell her," said Camilla more than once. But she had not
been told when Mr. Gibson came on the Saturday. It may truly be said
that the poor mother's pleasure in the prospects of one daughter was
altogether destroyed by the anticipation of the other daughter's
misery. Had Mr. Gibson made Dorothy Stanbury his wife they could
have all comforted themselves together by the heat of their joint
animosity.
He came on the Saturday, and it was so managed that he was closeted
with Camilla before Arabella knew that he was in the house. There
was a quarter of an hour during which his work was easy, and perhaps
pleasant. When he began to explain his intention, Camilla, with the
utmost frankness, informed him that her mother had told her all about
it. Then she turned her face on one side and put her hand in his; he
got his arm round her waist, gave her a kiss, and the thing was done.
Camilla was fully resolved that after such a betrothal it should not
be undone. She had behaved with sisterly forbearance, and would not
now lose the reward of virtue. Not a word was said of Arabella at
this interview till he was pressed to come and drink tea with them
all that night. He hesitated a moment; and then Camilla declared,
with something perhaps of imperious roughness in her manner, that he
had better face it all at once. "Mamma will tell her, and she will
understand," said Camilla. He hesitated again, but at last promised
that he would come.
Whilst he was yet in the house Mrs. French had told the whole story
to her poor elder daughter. "What is he doing with Camilla?" Arabella
had asked with feverish excitement.
"Bella, darling;--don't you know?" said the mother.
"I know nothing. Everybody keeps me in the dark, and I am badly used.
What is it that he is doing?" Then Mrs. French tried to take the
poor young woman in her arms, but Arabella would not submit to be
embraced. "Don't!" she exclaimed. "Leave me alone. Nobody likes me,
or cares a bit about me! Why is Cammy with him there, all alone?"
"I suppose he is asking her--to be--his wife." Then Arabella threw
herself in despair upon the bed, and wept without any further attempt
at control over her feelings. It was a death-blow to her last hope,
and all the world, as she looked upon the world then, was over for
her. "If I could have arranged it the other way, you know that I
would," said the mother.
"Mamma," said Arabella, jumping up, "he shan't do it. He hasn't a
right. And as for her,-- Oh, that she should treat me in this way!
Didn't he tell me the other night, when he drank tea here with me
alone--"
"What did he tell you, Bella?"
"Never mind. Nothing shall ever make me speak to him again;--not if
he married her three times over; nor to her. She is a nasty, sly,
good-for-nothing thing!"
"But, Bella--"
"Don't talk to me, mamma. There never was such a thing done before
since people--were--people at all. She has been doing it all the
time. I know she has."
Nevertheless Arabella did sit down to tea with the two lovers that
night. There was a terrible scene between her and Camilla; but
Camilla held her own; and Arabella, being the weaker of the two, was
vanquished by the expenditure of her own small energies. Camilla
argued that as her sister's chance was gone, and as the prize had
come in her own way, there was no good reason why it should be lost
to the family altogether, because Arabella could not win it. When
Arabella called her a treacherous vixen and a heartless, profligate
hussy, she spoke out freely, and said that she wasn't going to be
abused. A gentleman to whom she was attached had asked her for her
hand, and she had given it. If Arabella chose to make herself a fool
she might,--but what would be the effect? Simply that all the world
would know that she, Arabella, was disappointed. Poor Bella at last
gave way, put on her discarded chignon, and came down to tea. Mr.
Gibson was already in the room when she entered it. "Arabella," he
said, getting up to greet her, "I hope you will congratulate me."
He had planned his little speech and his manner of making it, and
had wisely decided that in this way might he best get over the
difficulty.
"Oh yes;--of course," she said, with a little giggle, and then a sob,
and then a flood of tears.
"Dear Bella feels these things so strongly," said Mrs. French.
"We have never been parted yet," said Camilla. Then Arabella tapped
the head of the sofa three or four times sharply with her knuckles.
It was the only protest against the reading of the scene which
Camilla had given of which she was capable at that moment. After that
Mrs. French gave out the tea, Arabella curled herself upon the sofa
as though she were asleep, and the two lovers settled down to proper
lover-like conversation.
The reader may be sure that Camilla was not slow in making the fact
of her engagement notorious through the city. It was not probably
true that the tidings of her success had anything to do with Miss
Stanbury's illness; but it was reported by many that such was the
case. It was in November that the arrangement was made, and it
certainly was true that Miss Stanbury was rather ill about the same
time. "You know, you naughty Lothario, that you did give her some
ground to hope that she might dispose of her unfortunate niece," said
Camilla playfully to her own one, when this illness was discussed
between them. "But you are caught now, and your wings are clipped,
and you are never to be a naughty Lothario again." The clerical
Don Juan bore it all, awkwardly indeed, but with good humour, and
declared that all his troubles of that sort were over, now and for
ever. Nevertheless he did not name the day, and Camilla began to feel
that there might be occasion for a little more of that imperious
roughness which she had at her command.
November was nearly over and nothing had been fixed about the day.
Arabella never condescended to speak to her sister on the subject;
but on more than one occasion made some inquiry of her mother. And
she came to perceive, or to think that she perceived, that her mother
was still anxious on the subject. "I shouldn't wonder if he wasn't
off some day now," she said at last to her mother.
"Don't say anything so dreadful, Bella."
"It would serve Cammy quite right, and it's just what he's likely to
do."
"It would kill me," said the mother.
"I don't know about killing," said Arabella; "it's nothing to what
I've had to go through. I shouldn't pretend to be sorry if he were to
go to Hong-Kong to-morrow."
But Mr. Gibson had no idea of going to Hong-Kong. He was simply
carrying out his little scheme for securing the advantages of a "long
day." He was fully resolved to be married, and was contented to think
that his engagement was the best thing for him. To one or two male
friends he spoke of Camilla as the perfection of female virtue, and
entertained no smallest idea of ultimate escape. But a "long day" is
often a convenience. A bill at three months sits easier on a man than
one at sixty days; and a bill at six months is almost as little of a
burden as no bill at all.
But Camilla was resolved that some day should be fixed. "Thomas," she
said to her lover one morning, as they were walking home together
after service at the cathedral, "isn't this rather a fool's Paradise
of ours?"
"How a fool's Paradise?" asked the happy Thomas.
"What I mean is, dearest, that we ought to fix something. Mamma is
getting uneasy about her own plans."
"In what way, dearest?"
"About a thousand things. She can't arrange anything till our plans
are made. Of course there are little troubles about money when people
ain't rich." Then it occurred to her that this might seem to be a
plea for postponing rather than for hurrying the marriage, and she
mended her argument. "The truth is, Thomas, she wants to know when
the day is to be fixed, and I've promised to ask. She said she'd ask
you herself, but I wouldn't let her do that."
"We must think about it, of course," said Thomas.
"But, my dear, there has been plenty of time for thinking. What do
you say to January?" This was on the last day of November.
"January!" exclaimed Thomas, in a tone that betrayed no triumph. "I
couldn't get my services arranged for in January."
"I thought a clergyman could always manage that for his marriage,"
said Camilla.
"Not in January. Besides, I was thinking you would like to be away in
warmer weather."
They were still in November, and he was thinking of postponing it
till the summer! Camilla immediately perceived how necessary it was
that she should be plain with him. "We shall not have warm weather,
as you call it, for a very long time, Thomas;--and I don't think that
it would be wise to wait for the weather at all. Indeed, I've begun
to get my things for doing it in the winter. Mamma said that she was
sure January would be the very latest. And it isn't as though we had
to get furniture or anything of that kind. Of course a lady shouldn't
be pressing." She smiled sweetly and leaned on his arm as she said
this. "But I hate all girlish nonsense and that kind of thing. It is
such a bore to be kept waiting. I'm sure there's nothing to prevent
it coming off in February."
The 31st of March was fixed before they reached Heavitree, and
Camilla went into her mother's house a happy woman. But Mr. Gibson,
as he went home, thought that he had been hardly used. Here was a
girl who hadn't a shilling of money,--not a shilling till her mother
died,--and who already talked about his house, and his furniture,
and his income, as if it were all her own! Circumstanced as she was,
what right had she to press for an early day? He was quite sure that
Arabella would have been more discreet and less exacting. He was very
angry with his dear Cammy as he went across the Close to his house.