LADY THEOBALD.
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed nervously, "there is Lady Theobald."
Lady Theobald, having been making calls of state, was returning home
rather later than usual, when, in driving up High Street, her eye fell
upon Miss Bassett's garden. She put up her eyeglasses, and gazed through
them severely; then she issued a mandate to her coachman.
"Dobson," she said, "drive more slowly."
She could not believe the evidence of her own eyeglasses. In Miss
Bassett's garden she saw a tall girl, "dressed," as she put it, "like an
actress," her delicate dress trailing upon the grass, a white lace scarf
about her head and shoulders, roses in that scarf, roses at her waist.
"Good heavens!" she exclaimed: "is Belinda Bassett giving a party,
without so much as mentioning it to _me_?"
Then she issued another mandate.
"Dobson," she said, "drive faster, and drive me to Miss Bassett's."
Miss Belinda came out to the gate to meet her, quaking inwardly. Octavia
simply turned slightly where she stood, and looked at her ladyship,
without any pretence of concealing her curiosity.
Lady Theobald bent forward in her landau.
"Belinda," she said, "how do you do? I did not know you intended to
introduce garden-parties into Slowbridge."
"Dear Lady Theobald"--began Miss Belinda.
"Who is that young person?" demanded her ladyship.
"She is poor dear Martin's daughter," answered Miss Belinda. "She arrived
to-day--from Nevada, where--where it appears Martin has been very
fortunate, and owns a great many silver-mines"--
"A 'great many' silver-mines!" cried Lady Theobald. "Are you mad, Belinda
Bassett? I am ashamed of you. At your time of life too!"
Miss Belinda almost shed tears.
"She said 'some silver-mines,' I am sure," she faltered; "for I remember
how astonished and bewildered I was. The fact is, that she is such a very
singular girl, and has told me so many wonderful things, in the
strangest, cool way, that I am quite uncertain of myself. Murderers, and
gold-diggers, and silver-mines, and camps full of men without women,
making presents of gold girdles and dog-collars, and ear-rings that drag
your ears down. It is enough to upset any one."
"I should think so," responded her ladyship. "Open the carriage-door,
Belinda, and let me get out."
She felt that this matter must be inquired into at once, and not allowed
to go too far. She had ruled Slowbridge too long to allow such
innovations to remain uninvestigated. She would not be likely to be
"upset," at least. She descended from her landau, with her most rigorous
air. Her stout, rich black _moire-antique_ gown rustled severely; the
yellow ostrich feather in her bonnet waved majestically. (Being a
brunette, and Lady Theobald, she wore yellow.) As she tramped up the
gravel walk, she held up her dress with both hands, as an example to
vulgar and reckless young people who wore trains and left them to
take care of themselves. Octavia was arranging afresh the bunch of
long-stemmed, swaying buds at her waist, and she was giving all her
attention to her task when her visitor first addressed her.
"How do you do?" remarked her ladyship, in a fine, deep voice.
Miss Belinda followed her meekly.
"Octavia," she explained, "this is Lady Theobald, whom you will be very
glad to know. She knew your father."
"Yes," returned my lady, "years ago. He has had time to improve since
then. How do you do?"
Octavia's limpid eyes rested serenely upon her.
"How do you do?" she said, rather indifferently.
"You are from Nevada?" asked Lady Theobald.
"Yes."
"It is not long since you left there?"
Octavia smiled faintly.
"Do I look like that?" she inquired.
"Like what?" said my lady.
"As if I had not long lived in a civilized place. I dare say I do,
because it is true that I haven't."
"You don't look like an English girl," remarked her ladyship.
Octavia smiled again. She looked at the yellow feather and stout _moire
antique_ dress, but quite as if by accident, and without any mental
deduction; then she glanced at the rosebuds in her hand.
"I suppose I ought to be sorry for that," she observed. "I dare say I
shall be in time--when I have been longer away from Nevada."
"I must confess," admitted her ladyship, and evidently without the
least regret or embarrassment, "I must confess that I don't know where
Nevada is."
"It isn't in Europe," replied Octavia, with a soft, light laugh. "You
know that, don't you?"
The words themselves sounded to Lady Theobald like the most outrageous
impudence; but when she looked at the pretty, lovelock-shaded face, she
was staggered the look it wore was such a very innocent and undisturbed
one. At the moment, the only solution to be reached seemed to be that
this was the style of young people in Nevada, and that it was ignorance
and not insolence she had to do battle with--which, indeed, was
partially true.
"I have not had any occasion to inquire where it is situated, so far,"
she responded firmly. "It is not so necessary for English people to know
America as it is for Americans to know England."
"Isn't it?" said Octavia, without any great show of interest. "Why not?"
"For--for a great many reasons it would be fatiguing to explain," she
answered courageously. "How is your father?"
"He is very sea-sick now," was the smiling answer,--"deadly sea-sick. He
has been out just twenty-four hours."
"Out? What does that mean?"
"Out on the Atlantic. He was called back suddenly, and obliged to leave
me. That is why I came here alone."
"Pray do come into the parlor, and sit down, dear Lady Theobald,"
ventured Miss Belinda. "Octavia"--
"Don't you think it is nicer out here?" said Octavia.
"My dear," answered Miss Belinda. "Lady Theobald"--She was really quite
shocked.
"Ah!" interposed Octavia. "I only thought it was cooler."
She preceded them, without seeming to be at all conscious that she was
taking the lead.
"You had better pick up your dress, Miss Octavia," said Lady Theobald
rather acidly.
The girl glanced over her shoulder at the length of train sweeping the
path, but she made no movement toward picking it up.
"It is too much trouble, and one has to duck down so," she said. "It is
bad enough to have to keep doing it when one is on the street. Besides,
they would never wear out if one took too much care of them."
When they went into the parlor, and sat down, Lady Theobald made
excellent use of her time, and managed to hear again all that had tried
and bewildered Miss Belinda. She had no hesitation in asking questions
boldly; she considered it her privilege to do so: she had catechised
Slowbridge for forty years, and meant to maintain her rights until Time
played her the knave's trick of disabling her.
In half an hour she had heard about the silver-mines, the gold-diggers,
and L'Argentville; she knew that Martin Bassett was a millionnaire, if
the news he had heard had not left him penniless; that he would return to
England, and visit Slowbridge, as soon as his affairs were settled. The
precarious condition of his finances did not seem to cause Octavia much
concern. She had asked no questions when he went away, and seemed quite
at ease regarding the future.
"People will always lend him money, and then he is lucky with it," she
said.
She bore the catechising very well. Her replies were frequently rather
trying to her interlocutor, but she never seemed troubled, or ashamed of
any thing she had to say; and she wore, from first to last, that
inscrutably innocent and indifferent little air.
She did not even show confusion when Lady Theobald, on going away, made
her farewell comment:--
"You are a very fortunate girl to own such jewels," she said, glancing
critically at the diamonds in her ears; "but if you take my advice, my
dear, you will put them away, and save them until you are a married
woman. It is not customary, on this side of the water, for young girls to
wear such things--particularly on ordinary occasions. People will think
you are odd."
"It is not exactly customary in America," replied Octavia, with her
undisturbed smile. "There are not many girls who have such things.
Perhaps they would wear them if they had them. I don't care a very great
deal about them, but I mean to wear them."
Lady Theobald went away in a dudgeon.
"You will have to exercise your authority, Belinda, and _make_ her put
them away," she said to Miss Bassett. "It is absurd--besides being
atrocious."
"Make her!" faltered Miss Bassett.
"Yes, 'make her'--though I see you will have your hands full. I never
heard such romancing stories in my life. It is just what one might expect
from your brother Martin."
When Miss Bassett returned, Octavia was standing before the window,
watching the carriage drive away, and playing absently with one of her
ear-rings as she did so.
"What an old fright she is!" was her first guileless remark.
Miss Belinda quite bridled.
"My dear," she said, with dignity, "no one in Slowbridge would think of
applying such a phrase to Lady Theobald."
Octavia turned around, and looked at her.
"But don't you think she is one?" she exclaimed. "Perhaps I oughtn't to
have said it; but you know we haven't any thing as bad as that, even out
in Nevada--really!"
"My dear," said Miss Belinda, "different countries contain different
people; and in Slowbridge _we_ have our standards,"--her best cap
trembling a little with her repressed excitement.
But Octavia did not appear overwhelmed by the existence of the standards
in question. She turned to the window again.
"Well, anyway," she said, "I think it was pretty cool in her to order me
to take off my diamonds, and save them until I was married. How does she
know whether I mean to be married, or not? I don't know that I care
about it."