Too oft my anxious eye has spied
That secret grief thou fain wouldst hide--
The passing pang of humbled pride.--SCOTT
The winter was gay, between musical evenings, children's parties,
clerical feastings of district visitors, soirees for Sunday-school
teachers, and Christmas-trees for their scholars. Such a universal
favourite as Harry, with so keen a relish for amusement, was sure to
fall an easy prey to invitations; but the rest of the family stood
amazed to see him accompanied everywhere by Tom, to whom the secular
and the religious dissipations of Stoneborough had always hitherto been
equally distasteful. Yet be submitted to a Christmas course of music,
carpet-dances, and jeux de societe on the one hand, and on the other
conferred inestimable obligations on the ecclesiastical staff by
exhibitions of his microscope and of some of the ornamental sports of
chemistry.
'The truth is,' was the explanation privately dropped out to Ethel,
'that some one really must see that those two don't make fools of
themselves.'
Ethel stared; then, coming to the perception who 'those two' meant,
burst out laughing, and said, 'My dear Tom, I beg your pardon, but, on
the whole, I think that is more likely to befall some one else.'
Tom held his head loftily, and would not condescend to understand
anything so foolish.
He considered Bankside as the most dangerous quarter, for Harry was
enraptured with Miss Ward's music, extolled her dark eyes, and openly
avowed her attraction; but there were far more subtle perils at
Laburnum Grove. The fair widow was really pretty, almost elegant, her
weeds becoming; and her disposition so good, so religious, so
charitable, that, with her activity, intelligence, and curate-worship,
she was a dangerous snare to such of mankind as were not sensible of
her touch of pretension. As to womankind, it needed a great deal of
submissiveness to endure her at all; and this was not Averil Ward's
leading characteristic.
In fact, the ubiquity of Mrs. Pugh was a sore trial to that young lady,
just so superior herself as to detect the flimsiness of the widow's
attainments. It was vexatious to find that by means of age,
assumption, and position, these shallow accomplishments made a
prodigious show in the world, while her own were entirely overlooked.
She thought she despised the admiration of the second-rate world of
Stoneborough, but it nettled her to see it thus misplaced; and there
was something provoking in the species of semi-homage paid in that
quarter by the youths of the May family.
As to the sailor, Averil frankly liked him very much; he was the
pleasantest young man, of the most open and agreeable manners, who had
ever fallen in her way. He was worthy to be Mary's brother, for he was
friendly to Leonard, and to herself had a truthfully flattering way
that was delightful. Without any sentiment in the case, she always
felt disappointed and defrauded if she were prevented from having a
conversation with him; and when this happened, it was generally either
from his being seized upon by Mrs. Pugh, or from her being baited by
his brother Tom.
Averil was hard to please, for she was as much annoyed by seeing Tom
May sitting courteous and deferential by the side of Mrs. Pugh, as by
his attentions to herself. She knew that he was playing the widow off,
and that, when most smooth and bland in look and tone, he was inwardly
chuckling; and to find the identical politeness transferred to herself,
made her feel not only affronted but insulted by being placed on the
same level. Thus, when, at a 'reunion' at Laburnum Grove, she had been
looking on with intense disgust while Tom was admiring Mrs. Pugh's
famous book of devices from letters, translating the mottoes, and
promising contributions, the offence was greatly increased by his
coming up to her (and that too just as Harry was released by the
button-holding Mr. Grey) and saying,
'Of course you are a collector too, Miss Ward; I can secure some
duplicates for you.'
She hoard such fooleries? She have Mrs. Pugh's duplicates? No wonder
she coldly answered, 'My little sister has been slightly infected,
thank you, but I do not care for such things.'
'Indeed! Well, I always preserve as many as I can, as passports to a
lady's favour.'
'That depends on how much sense the lady has,' said Averil, trusting
that this was a spirited set down.
'You do not consider. Philosophically treated, they become a perfect
school in historical heraldry, nay, in languages, in mathematical
drawing, in illumination, said Tom, looking across to the album in
which Mrs. Pugh's collection was enshrined, each device appropriately
framed in bright colours. His gravity was intolerable. Was this
mockery or not? However, as answer she must, she said,
'A very poor purpose for which to learn such things, and a poor way of
learning them.'
'True,' said Tom, 'one pastime is as good as another; and the less it
pretends to, the better. On the whole, it may be a beneficial outlet
for the revival of illumination.'
Did this intolerable person know that there was an 'illuminator's
guide' at home, and a great deal of red, blue, and gold paint, with
grand designs for the ornamentation of Bankside chapel? Whether he
knew it or not, she could not help answering, 'Illumination is
desecrated by being used on such subjects.'
'And is not that better than the subjects being desecrated by
illumination?'
Mrs. Pugh came to insist on that 'sweet thing of Mendelssohn's' from
her dear Miss Ward; and Averil obeyed, not so glad to escape as
inflamed by vexation at being prevented from fighting it out, and
learning what he really meant; though she was so far used to the
slippery nature of his arguments as to know that it was highly
improbable that she should get at anything in earnest.
'If his sisters were silly, I should not mind,' said she to Leonard;
'then he might hold all women cheap from knowing no better; but when
they like sensible things, why is every one else to be treated like an
ape?'
'Never mind,' said Leonard, 'he sneers at everybody all alike! I can't
think how Dr. May came to have such a son, or how Aubrey can run after
him so.'
'I should like to know whether they really think it irreverent to do
illuminations.'
'Nonsense, Ave; why should you trouble yourself about what he says to
tease you? bad luck to him!'
Nevertheless, Averil was not at ease till she had asked Mary's opinion
of illumination, and Mary had referred to Ethel, and brought back word
that all depended on the spirit of the work; that it was a dangerous
thing, for mere fashion, to make playthings of texts of Scripture; but
that no one could tell the blessing there might be in dwelling on them
with loving decoration, or having them placed where the eye and thought
might be won by them. In fact, Ethel always hated fashion, but feared
prejudice.
The crown of the whole carnival was to be the Abbotstoke entertainment
on the enrolment of the volunteers. Preparations went on with great
spirit, and the drill sergeant had unremitting work, the target little
peace, and Aubrey and Leonard were justly accused of making fetishes of
their rifles. The town was frantic, no clothes but uniforms could be
had, and the tradesmen forgot their customers in the excitement of
electing officers.
Averil thought it very officious of Mrs. Pugh to collect a romantic
party of banner-working young ladies before the member's wife or the
mayor's family had authorized it; and she refused to join, both on the
plea of want of time, and because she heard that Mr. Elvers, a real
dragoon, declared colours to be inappropriate to riflemen. And so he
did; but his wife said the point was not martial correctness, but
popular feeling; so Mary gratified the party by bringing her needle,
Dr. Spencer took care the blazonry of the arms of the old abbey was
correct, and Flora asked the great lady of the county to present the
banner, and gave the invitation to Mrs. Pugh, who sighed, shook her
head, dried her eyes, and said something about goodness and spirits;
and Mrs. Rivers professed to understand, and hope Mrs. Pugh would do
exactly as best suited her.
Was this manoeuvring, or only living in the present?
Mary accompanied Harry for a long day of shopping in London when he
went to report himself, starting and returning in the clouds of night,
and transacting a prodigious amount of business with intense delight
and no fatigue; and she was considered to have fitted out the mayor's
daughters suitably with his municipal dignity, of which Ethel piqued
herself on being proud.
The entertainment was not easy to arrange at such a season, and
Blanche's 'experience,' being of early autumn, was at fault; but Flora
sent for all that could embellish her conservatories, and by one of the
charities by which she loved to kill two birds with one stone, imported
a young lady who gained her livelihood by singing at private concerts,
and with her for a star, supported by the Minster and Cathedral choirs,
hoped to get up sufficient music to occupy people till it should be
late enough to dance. She still had some diplomacy to exercise, for
Mrs. Ledwich suggested asking dear Ave Ward to sing, her own dearest
Matilda would not object on such an occasion to assist the sweet girl;
and Mrs. Rivers, after her usual prudent fashion, giving neither denial
nor assent, Mrs. Ledwich trotted off, and put Averil into an agony that
raised a needless storm in the Bankside house; Leonard declaring the
request an insult, and Henry insisting that Ave ought to have no
scruples in doing anything Mrs. Pugh thought proper to be done. And
finally, when Ave rushed with her despair to Mary May, it was to be
relieved at finding that Mrs. Rivers had never dreamt of exposing her
to such an ordeal.
Though it was the year 1860, the sun shone on the great day, and there
were exhilarating tokens of spring, singing birds, opening buds,
sparkling drops, and a general sense of festivity; as the gray and
green began to flit about the streets, and while Mr. Mayor repaired to
the Town Hall to administer the oaths to the corps, his unmartial sons
and his daughters started for the Grange to assist Flora in the
reception of her guests.
The Lord Lieutenant's wife and daughters, as well as the Ernescliffes,
had slept there, and Ethel found them all with Flora in the great hall,
which looked like a winter garden, interspersed with tables covered
with plate and glass, where eating and drinking might go on all day
long. But Ethel's heart sank within her at the sight of Flora's
haggard face and sunken eyes. 'What is the matter?' she asked Blanche,
an image of contented beauty.
'Matter? Oh, they have been stupid in marking the ground, and Hector
is gone to see about it. That's all. He is not at all tired.'
'I never supposed he was,' said Ethel, 'but what makes Flora look so
ill?'
'Oh, that tiresome child has got another cold, and fretted half the
night. It is all their fault for giving way to her; and she has done
nothing but whine this whole morning because she is not well enough to
go out and see the practice! I am sure it is no misfortune that she is
not to come down and be looked at.'
Ethel crossed over to Flora, and asked whether she should go up and see
little Margaret.
'I should be so thankful,' said poor Flora; 'but don't excite her. She
is not at all well, and has had very little sleep.'
Ethel ran up-stairs, and found herself in the midst of a fight between
the governess and Margaret, who wanted to go to the draughty passage
window, which she fancied had a better view than that of her nursery.
Luckily, Aunt Ethel was almost the only person whom Margaret did not
like to see her naughty; and she subsided into a much less
objectionable lamentation after Uncle Harry and his anchor buttons.
Ethel promised to try whether he could be found, and confident in his
good-nature, ran down, and boldly captured him as he was setting out to
see Hector's operations. He came with a ready smile, and the child was
happy throughout his stay. Flora presently stole a moment's visit,
intending her sister's release as well as his; but Ethel, in pity to
governess as well as pupil, declared the nursery window to be a prime
post of observation, and begged to be there left.
Margaret began to believe that they were very snug there, and by the
time the bugles were heard, had forgotten her troubles in watching the
arrivals.
Up came the gray files, and Ethel's heart throbbed and her eye
glistened at their regular tread and military bearing. Quickly
Margaret made out papa; but he was too real a soldier to evince
consciousness of being at his own door, before the eyes of his wife and
daughter; and Aubrey's young face was made up in imitation of his
impassiveness. Other eyes were less under control, and of these were a
brown pair that wandered restlessly, till they were raised to the
nursery window, and there found satisfaction.
The aunt and niece were too immediately above the terrace to see what
passed upon it, nor could they hear the words; so they only beheld the
approach of the Ensign, and after a brief interval, his return with the
tall green silk colours, with the arms of the old abbey embroidered in
the corner, and heard the enthusiastic cheer that rang out from all the
corps.
Then the colours led the way to the ground for practice, for manoeuvres
were as yet not ready for exhibition. Almost all the gentlemen
followed; and such ladies as did not object to gunpowder or damp grass,
thither betook themselves, guided by the ardent Mrs. Ernescliffe.
Having disposed of the others in the drawing-rooms and gardens, Flora
and her father came to the nursery, and Ethel was set at liberty to
witness the prowess of her young champions, being assured by Flora that
she would be of more use there in keeping the youthful population out
of danger than in entertaining the more timid in the house.
She slipped out and hurried down a narrow path towards the scene of
action, presently becoming aware of four figures before her, which her
glass resolved into Harry and Tom, a lady in black, and a child.
Evidently the devoted Tom was keeping guard over one of the
enchantresses, for the figure was that of Averil Ward, though, as Ethel
said, shaking hands, she was hardly to be known with only one sister.
'We have been delayed,' said Averil; 'poor little Ella was in an agony
about the firing, and we could not leave her till your
brother'--indicating Harry--'was so kind as to take her to Gertrude.'
'True to the Englishwoman's boast of never having seen the smoke of an
engagement,' said Tom.
'A practising is not an engagement,' said Ethel.
'There may be quite as many casualties,' quoth Tom, indulging in some
of the current ready-made wit on the dangers of volunteering, for the
pure purpose of teasing; but he was vigorously fallen upon by Harry and
Ethel, and Averil brightened as she heard him put to the rout. The
shots were already heard, when two more black figures were seen in the
distance, going towards the gate.
'Is that Richard?' exclaimed Tom.
'Ay, and I do believe, the widow!' rejoined Harry.
'Oh, yes,' said Averil. 'I heard her talking about Abbotstoke Church,
and saying how much she wished to see it. She must have got Mr. May to
show it to her.'
Ethel, who had no real fears for Richard herself, looked on amused to
watch how the guardian spirit was going to act. He exclaimed, 'By the
bye, Miss Ward, would you not like to see it? They have a very nice
brass to old Mr. Rivers, and have been doing up the chancel.'
'Thank you, said Ave, 'I should prefer going to see how Leonard is
getting on.'
'Right, Miss Ward,' said Harry; 'the church won't run away.'
'Well, then,' said Tom, after a moment's hesitation, 'I think I shall
just run down, as the church is open, and see what sort of work they
have made of the chancel.'
Ethel had the strongest fancy to try what he would do if she were to be
seized with a desire to inspect the chancel; but she did not wish to
let Harry and Averil appear on the ground under no escort but Minna's,
and so permitted Tom to leave them to her keeping, and watched him
hasten to break up the tete-a-tete.
Coming among the spectators, who, chiefly drawn up on the carriage
drive, were watching from a safe distance the gray figures in turn take
aim and emit from their rifles the flash and cotton-wool-like tuft of
smoke, Ethel's interest was somewhat diminished by hearing that all the
other marksmen had been distanced by the head keepers of Abbotstoke and
Drydale, between whom the contest really lay.
'The rest is a study of character,' said Dr. Spencer, taking a turn up
and down the road with her. 'I have been watching the various pairs of
brothers; and I doubt if any stand the test as well as the house of
May.'
'There's only one in the field to-day.'
'Yes, but I've seen them together before now, and I will say for even
Tom that he has no black looks when his junior shoots better than he
does.'
'Oh, yes! But then it is Aubrey.'
Dr. Spencer laughed. 'Lucky household where that "it is" accounts for
all favours to the youngest, instead of for the countenance falling at
his successes.'
'I am afraid I know whom you mean. But he has no generosity in him.'
'And his sister helps to make him jealous.'
'I am afraid she does; but though it is very sad, one can't wonder at
her preference of the great to the small.'
'Poor girl, I wonder how she will get on when there is a new inmate in
the happy family.'
'Ha! you shocking old gossip, what have you found out now?'
'Negotiation for the introduction of a Pug dog from the best
circles--eh?'
'Well, if he were alone in the world, it would be a capital match.'
'So she thinks, I fancy; but £600 a year might do better than purchase
so many incumbrances. Depend upon it, the late lamented will remain in
the ascendant till there are no breakers ahead.'
In process of time, ladies, volunteers, and all, were assembled in the
great music-room for the concert; and Ethel, having worked hard in the
service of the company, thought her present duty lay with the sick
child, and quietly crept away, taking, however, one full view of the
entire scene, partly for her own satisfaction, partly in case Margaret
should be inclined to question her on what every one was doing.
There was the orchestra, whose erection Richard had superintended;
there was the conductor in his station, and the broad back of the
Cathedral organist at the piano, the jolly red visages of the singing
men in their ranks, the fresh faces of the choristers full of elation,
the star from London, looking quiet and ladylike, courteously led to
her place by George Rivers himself. But, for all his civility, how
bored and sullen he looked! and how weary were poor Flora's smiles,
though her manner was so engaging, and her universal attention so
unremitting! What a contrast to the serene, self-enfolded look of
happiness and prosperity on the pretty youthful face of Blanche, her
rich delicate silk spreading far beyond the sofa where she sat among
the great ladies; and her tall yellow-haired husband leaning against
the wall behind her, in wondering contemplation of his Blanche taking
her place in her own county.
Farther back, among the more ordinary herd, Ethel perceived Mrs. Pugh,
bridling demurely, with Tom on guard over her on one side, and Henry
Ward looking sulky on the other, with his youngest sister in his
charge. The other was looking very happy upon Leonard's knee, close to
Averil and Mary, who were evidently highly satisfied to have coalesced.
Averil was looking strikingly pretty--the light fell favourably on her
profuse glossy hair, straight features, and brilliant colouring; her
dark eyes were full of animation, and her lips were apart with a smile
as she listened to Leonard's eager narration; and Ethel glanced towards
Harry to see whether he were admiring. No; Harry was bringing in a
hall arm-chair in the background, for a vary large, heavy,
vulgar-looking old man, who seemed too ponderous and infirm for a place
on the benches. Richard made one of a black mass of clergy, and Aubrey
and Gertrude had asserted their independence by perching themselves on
a window-seat, as far as possible from all relations, whence they
nodded a merry saucy greeting to Ethel, and she smiled back again,
thinking her tall boy in his gray tunic and black belt, and her plump
girl in white with green ribbons, were as goodly a pair as the room
contained.
But where was the Doctor?
Ethel had a shrewd suspicion where she should find him; and in the
nursery he was, playing at spillekens with his left hand.
It was not easy to persuade him that the music would be wasted on her,
and that he ought to go down that it might receive justice; but
Margaret settled the question. 'You may go, grandpapa. Aunt Ethel is
best to play at spillekens, for she has not got a left hand.'
'There's honour for me, who used to have two!' and therewith Ethel
turned him out in time for the overture.
Margaret respected her aunt sufficiently not to be extra wayward with
her, and between the spillekens, and a long story about Cousin Dickie
in New Zealand, all went well till bed-time. There was something in
the child's nervous temperament that made the first hours of the night
peculiarly painful to her, and the sounds of the distant festivity
added to her excitability. She fretted and tossed, moaned and wailed,
sat up in bed and cried, snapped off attempts at hymns, would not
listen to stories, and received Ethel's attempts at calm grave commands
with bursts of crying, and calls for mamma and papa. The music had
ceased, tuning of violins was heard, and Ethel dreaded the cries being
heard down-stairs. She was at her wits' end, and was thinking who
would most avail, and could be fetched with least sensation, when there
was a soft knock at the door, and Harry's voice said, 'Hollo, what's
the matter here?' In he came with his white glove half on, and
perceiving the state of the case said, 'Can't go to sleep?'
'Oh, Uncle Harry, take me;' and the arms were stretched out, and the
tear-stained face raised up.
'We'll put you to sleep as sound as if you were in a hammock just off
middle watch,' said Harry; and the next moment he had her rolled up in
her little blue dressing-gown, nestling on his broad shoulder, while he
walked up and down the room, crooning out a nautical song, not in
first-rate style, but the effect was perfect; the struggles and sobs
were over, and when at the end of a quarter of an hour Harry paused and
looked at the little thin sharp face, it was softened by peaceful sleep.
Ethel pointed to the door. There stood Flora, her eyes full of tears.
Harry laid the little sleeper on her bed, and covered her up. Flora
laid her arm on his shoulder and gave him such a kiss as she had not
given even when he had come back as from the dead. Then she signed to
them to come, but sped away before them, not trusting herself to speak.
Ethel tarried with Harry, who was in difficulties with gloves too small
for his broad hand, and was pshawing at himself at having let Tom get
them for him at Whitford.
'O, Harry,' said Ethel, 'you are the most really like papa of us all!
How did you come to think of it!'
'I'd have given a good deal if any one would have walked quarter-deck
with me some nights last summer,' said Harry, still intent on the
glove. 'What is to be done, Ethel! that rogue Tom always snaps up all
the beauty. I dare say he has engaged Miss Ward and the widow both.'
It was no time for sentiment; so Ethel suggested getting half into one
glove, and carrying the other.
'You'll be quite irresistible enough, Harry! And if all the beauty is
engaged, I'll dance with you myself.'
'Will you?' cried the lieutenant, with sparkling eyes, 'then you are a
jolly old Ethel! Come along, then;' and he took her on his arm, ran
down-stairs with her, and before she well knew where she was, or what
was going on, she found herself in his great grasp passive as a doll,
dragged off into the midst of a vehement polka that took her breath
away. She trusted to him, and remained in a passive, half-frightened
state, glad he was so happy; but in the first pause heartily wishing he
would let her go, instead of which she only heard, 'Well done, old
Ethel, you'll be a prime dancer yet! you're as light as a feather;' and
before she had recovered her breath, off he led her with 'Go it again!'
When at length, panting and bewildered, she was safely placed on a
seat, with 'You've had enough, have you? mind, I shan't let you off
another time,' she found that her aberration had excited a good deal of
sensation in her own family. Blanche and Gertrude could not repress
their amusement; and Dr. May, with merry eyes, declared that she was
coming out in a new light. She had only time to confide to him the
reason that she had let Harry do what he pleased with her, before two
volunteers were at her side.
'Miss May, I did not think you ever danced!'
'Nor I,' said Ethel; 'but you see what sailors can do with one.'
'Now, Ethel' said the other over his shoulder, 'now you have danced
with Harry, you must have this waltz with me.'
'A dangerous precedent, Ethel,' said the Doctor, laughing.
'I couldn't waltz to save my life, Aubrey,' said Ethel; 'but if you can
bear me through a polka as well as Harry did, you may try the next.'
'And won't you--will you--for once dance with me? said his companion
imploringly.
'Very well, Leonard, if I can get through a quadrille;' and therewith
Ethel was seized upon by both boys to hear the story of every hit and
miss, and of each of the difficulties that their unpractised corps had
encountered in getting round the corners between Stoneborough and the
Grange. Then came Leonard's quadrille, which it might be hoped was
gratifying to him; but which he executed with as much solemn deference
as if he had been treading a minuet with a princess, plainly regarding
it as the great event of the day. In due time, he resigned her to
Aubrey; but poor Aubrey had been deluded by the facility with which the
strong and practised sailor had swept his victim along; and Ethel grew
terrified at the danger of collisions, and released herself and pulled
him aside by force, just in time to avoid being borne down by the
ponderous weight of Miss Boulder and her partner.
'You did not come to grief with Harry!' muttered the discomfited boy.
'No more did the lamb damage the eagle; but remember the fate of the
jackdaw, Mr. Gray-coat! I deserve some ice for my exertions, so come
into the hall and get some, and tell me if you have had better luck
elsewhere.'
'I have had no partner but Minna Ward, and she trips as if one was a
dancing-master.'
'And how has Tom been managing?'
'Stunningly civil! He began with Ave Ward, in the Lancers, and it was
such fun--he chaffed her in his solemn way, about music I believe it
was, and her harmonium. I could not quite hear, but I could see she
was in a tremendous taking, and she won't recover it all the evening.'
'What a shame it is of Tom!'
'Oh! but it is such fun! And since that he has been parading with Pug.'
'She has not danced!'
'Oh no! She got an audience into Meta's little sitting-room--Henry
Ward, Harvey Anderson, and some of the curates; they shut the door, and
had some music on their own hook.'
'Was Richard there!'
'At first; but either he could not bear to see Meta's piano profaned,
or he thought it too strong when they got to the sacred line, for he
bolted, and is gone home.'
'There's Harry dancing with Fanny Anderson. He has not got Miss Ward
all this time.'
'Nor will,' said Aubrey. 'Tom had put her in such a rage that she did
not choose to dance with that cousin of hers, Sam Axworthy, so she was
obliged to refuse every one else; and I had to put up with that child!'
'Sam Axworthy! He does not belong to our corps. How does he come
here?'
'Oh! the old man has some houses in the borough, and an omnium gatherum
like this was a good time to do the civil thing to him. There he is;
peep into the card-room, and you'll see his great porpoise back, the
same old man that Harry in his benevolence assisted to a chair. He
shook hands with Leonard, and told him there was a snug desk at the
Vintry Mill for him.'
'I dare say!'
'And when Leonard thanked him, and said he hoped to get off to
Cambridge, he laughed that horrid fat laugh, and told him learning
would never put him in good case. Where shall I find you a place to
sit down? Pug and her tail have taken up all the room,' whispered
Aubrey, as by the chief of the glittering tables in the hall, he saw
Mrs. Pugh, drinking tea, surrounded by her attendant gentlemen, and
with her aunt and Ella Ward, like satellites, a little way from her.
'Here is a coign of vantage,' said Ethel, seating herself on a step a
little way up the staircase. 'How those people have taken possession
of that child all day!'
'I fancy Leonard is come to reclaim her,' said Aubrey, 'don't you see
him trying to work through and get at her! and Miss Ward told me she
was going home early, to put the children to bed. Ha! what's the row?
There's Leonard flaring up in a regular rage! Only look at his
eyes--and Henry just like Gertrude's Java sparrow in a taking--'
'It must not be,' cried Ethel, starting up to attempt she knew not
what, as she heard Leonard's words, 'Say it was a mistake, Henry! You
cannot be so base as to persist!'
There it became evident that Ethel and Aubrey were seen over the
balusters; Leonard's colour deepened, but his eye did not flinch;
though Henry quailed and backed, and the widow gave a disconcerted
laugh; then Leonard pounced on his little sister and carried her off to
the cloak-room. 'What treason could it have been?' muttered Aubrey;
'we shall get it all from Ward;' but when Leonard re-appeared it was
with his sister cloaked and bonneted on his arm, each leading a little
one; he took them to the entrance and was seen no more.
Nor was the true history of that explosion ever revealed in the May
family, though it had grave consequences at Bankside.
Rumour had long declared at Stoneborough that the member's little
daughter was carefully secluded on account of some deformity, and Mrs.
Pugh had been one of many ladies who had hoped to satisfy their
curiosity on this head upon the present occasion. She had asked Henry
Ward whether it were so, and he had replied with pique that he had no
means of judging, he had never been called in at the Grange. By way of
salve to his feelings, the sympathizing lady had suggested that the
preference for London advice might be from the desire of secrecy, and
improbable as he knew this to be, his vanity had forbidden him to argue
against it. When no little Miss Rivers appeared, the notion of her
affliction gained ground, and Leonard, whose gray back was
undistinguishable from other gray backs, heard Mrs. Pugh citing his
brother as an authority for the misfortune which Mr. and Mrs. Rivers so
carefully concealed as to employ no surgeon from their own
neighbourhood.
Falsehood, slander, cruelty, ingratitude, breach of hospitality, were
the imputations that fired the hot brain of Leonard, and writhed his
lips, as he started round, confronted the lady, and assured her it was
a--a--a gross mistake. His father had always attended the child, and
she must have misunderstood his brother. Then, seeing Henry at a
little distance, Leonard summoned him to contradict the allegation; but
at that moment the sudden appearance of the two Mays put the whole
conclave to silence.
Not aware that Mrs. Pugh had confounded together his intelligence and
her surmise, and made him responsible for both, Henry was shocked and
grieved at his brother's insulting and violent demeanour, and exhausted
himself in apologies and denunciations; while the kind-hearted lady
interceded, for the boy, declaring that she doted on his generous
spirit, but not confessing the piece of female embroidery which had
embroiled the matter; probably not even aware of it, though sincerely
and kindly desirous to avert the brother's anger. Her amiability,
therefore, only strengthened Henry's sense of his brothers outrage, and
his resolve to call him to account.
It was impossible that night, for Leonard had gone home with the
sisters, and was in bed long before his brother returned. But at
breakfast Henry found the forces drawn up against him, and his first
attempt to remonstrate was retorted by the demand what he could mean by
spreading such an abominable
report--cruel--unfounded--ungrateful--spiteful--
Averil indeed divined that it was Mrs. Pugh's invention; but Henry was
not inclined to give up Mrs. Pugh, and continued in the belief that
Leonard's fiery imagination had fabricated the sentence, and then most
improperly charged it on the lady, and on himself. Had it been as
Leonard stated, said Henry, his conduct was shameful and required an
apology, whereupon Leonard burst out in passion at being disbelieved,
and Averil was no less indignant. The storm raged till the business of
the day interrupted it; and in Henry's absence, Averil and her brother
worked up their wrath again, at the atrocity of the assertion regarding
the child of their entertainers, the granddaughter of their truest,
kindest friend.
Averil would have rushed to Mary with the whole story, but for
Leonard's solemn asseveration that if ever it came to the ears of any
one of the Mays, he should send back his rifle to Mr. Ernescliffe, and
work his way out to one of the colonies rather than again look any of
the family in the face.
Henry divided his opponents next time, asking Leonard, in his sister's
absence, whether he had come to his senses and would apologize?
Leonard hoped Henry had come to his! On the whole, the dispute had
lost some asperity by the absence of Averil, and though Leonard held
his ground, and maintained that he had every right to deny the
statement, and that it was Henry's duty to make Mrs. Pugh contradict it
everywhere, yet the two approached nearer together, and there was less
misunderstanding, fewer personalities.
But Averil could not forget or forgive. She persisted in manifesting
her displeasure, and recurred to the subject till her pertinacity wore
out Leonard himself.
'Nonsense, Ave,' he said at last, 'it was a foolish woman's gossip that
Henry ought to have quashed; but that is no reason you should treat
them like toads.'
'Would you have me sanction vile slander?'
'As if you were sanctioning slander by being decently civil! Is not it
an intolerable thing that we three should never sit down to a meal in
peace together?'
'O, Leonard, don't you think I feel the misery?'
Put an end to it then, and don't pit those poor children one against
the other. Just fancy Minna's saying to me, "I love you and sister,
but Ella loves Mrs. Pugh and Henry."'
'Yes, they have set Ella against me. She always appeals to Henry, and
I can do nothing with her.'
Leonard looked out of the window and whistled, then said, as if he had
made a discovery, 'I'll tell you what, Ave, something must be done to
set things to rights between us, and I believe the best thing will be
to call on Mrs. Pugh.'
'Not to apologize! O, Leonard!'
'Stuff and nonsense! Only to show we don't bear malice. Henry had
been at you to call ever so long before this, had he not?'
'I can't see any reason for intimacy.'
'I declare, Ave, you are too bad! I only want you just to keep the
peace with your own brother. You have led him the life of a dog these
three days, and now when I want you to be a little obliging, you talk
of intimacy!'
'Only because I know how it will be. If I give that woman an inch, she
will take an ell.'
'Let her then. It would be much better than always living at
daggers-drawn with one's brother.' Then, after waiting for her to say
something, he added, 'If you won't go with me, I shall go alone.'
Averil rose, subdued but not convinced, reverencing her brother, but
afraid of his concessions.
However, the call turned out well. Mrs. Pugh had a talent for making
herself agreeable, and probably had liked the boy for his outburst. She
would not let Mab be excluded, loaded her with admiration, and was
extremely interested in the volunteer practice, so that both the young
people were subjugated for the time by her pleasant manners, and went
away ashamed of their own rancour against one so friendly and
good-natured, and considerably relieved of their burden of animosity.
Their greeting to their brother was so cordial that he perceived their
good-will, and was sorry that the dread of an evening of warfare had
induced him to accept an invitation to dine at the Swan with Sam
Axworthy and a party of his friends.