Parted at last, for Harry had seen father and daughter into an omnibus,
one which must have been Ben Jonson's "chariot at hand here of love, in
which my lady rideth," and drawn by swans or doves, instead of a
jangling piece of wood and iron work, with a wretched knacker on either
side of the pole. How memory, though, dwelt upon her whose soft kiss--
the first--was yet dewy sweet upon his lips--upon his, for she was his
promised wife; and as he passed through the streets, walking as if upon
air, flushed, proud, happy, he saw nothing but the bright future his
fancy painted.
Then came the recollection of Janet, and he admired her as he thought of
the calm resignation with which she seemed to pour out the lavish
tenderness of her nature upon Patty.
At this point Harry glided selfishly away again in thought to add fresh
colouring to his happy future.
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Harry was early at Highgate the next day, to find Mrs Jared very stern
and uncompromising; but he was too much for her in his downright honest
declaration.
"Don't be hard upon me, Mrs Pellet--don't send me away; for indeed I
love her very, very dearly."
Mrs Jared was beaten, as well she might be, for there were Jared and
Patty looking on. It was not consistent, she knew; but Harry stayed
that day and dined with them, and saw Jared ready to go off to the
vicar's, stay to have a string tucked in here--Jared always was great in
strings--and a brushing there; while, in the exertion of making the most
of himself, he burst a pearl button off his wrist-band.
And now Patty was called into requisition to sew that button on again;
and I vow and declare that the fresh disc of pearl which she held
between her lips while she made a knot at the end of her thread, was not
so bright and pure-looking as the little regular teeth over which Harry
went into raptures.
Who would not have been Jared, and had that downy cheek laid against his
wrist? Why, if it had been any other wrist, it must have beat and
throbbed at a redoubled rate! Or who would not have been the thread
which Patty bit in two when the button had been duly stabbed in all its
eyes over and over again? Why, that thread must have been conscious,
and enjoyed it, or it never would have held out so long, instead of
being bitten through at first!
Jared gone, leaving Harry Clayton in his fold amongst the lambs of his
flock. Very reprehensible, no doubt; but no worse than Mrs Jared's
behaviour. For though left at home as guardian, she either turned
wilfully blind, or else her assertion was true that there was so much to
settle and arrange that she thought she never should get to be at home
in her new house. In fact, she was constantly away; and when by chance
she did come into the room, it was to murmur to Patty about some
precious thing or another that she was sure must have been left at
Duplex Street.
Strange proceedings there were that afternoon at Highgate. Why could
not Harry allow Patty to busily ply her needle instead of insisting upon
holding one hand in his? Why, too, must he fancy that he had grown
domestic, and want to help and prepare the tea? for in spite of the
change in circumstances, it was hard work for Mrs Pellet and Patty to
break themselves of their old homely ways. Harry kept the latter in a
state of nervous flutter the whole time as he whispered. But then, at a
certain stage in their existence, people do make themselves so absurd,
or rather, as Richard Pellet used to say, "such fools." The fact is,
lovers imagine the whole world to be blind to their actions, when the
fact is--bless the sweet innocency of their hearts!--the handkerchief is
around their own eyes.
Yes; Harry must make the toast, which ought now, of course, to have been
made in the kitchen--and fill up a great deal of the available space by
the fire, manifesting not the slightest intention of going away so long
as he could feast his eyes. There was no one there but a couple of
small Pellets--little round Pellets, who sat very still, and looked on
most solemnly. It was not at all surprising, seeing how such
instruction is neglected at our great seats of learning, that Harry
Clayton, in spite of honours, should burn that toast very often, and
leave great white patches where all should have been brown.
Yes; they were as homely as ever at Highgate, though in the midst of
plenty; for Mrs Jared said that she could never settle to the ways
adopted by some people, even if she had a million a week. And now she
was away inspecting a regiment of white jam-pots suffering from an
attack of mould; so if there was any cause for the ruddy glow in Patty's
cheeks, it must have been due to a combination of Mrs Jared's
unconventional behaviour, and the example set by Adam and Eve some
little time since; though there is still the possibility of the fire
being to blame.
That afternoon glided away magically, and Jared was late for tea. It
did not matter in the least, though he apologised for being so long
away. And then what an evening was spent! for Canau arrived with Janet
and a long black case, the sight of which set Jared's fingers strumming
upon the table.
Musical, of course, they were all the evening, and to Patty the notes
now were those of love. But there was room for sadness even then, and
Patty's heart felt heavy as she saw the yearning, eager, almost envious
look in Janet's eyes, and thought of the poor girl's future, till she
crossed the room, and told her that she should always be happy could
they but be near.
Volume 3, Chapter XXVII.