SOARING!--THENCE TO THINGS OF EARTH.
"By the way, Roland, _cher garcon_ have your people yet returned to
Surrey?" enquired Vaura.
"The first detachment, consisting of the governor, with mother, now
delight the flock with their presence; and the paters, pipe, flock and
sermons again occupy his attention. The damsel Isabel is still at
Paris, whither yours truly is journeying to carry the child home to
our parents."
"I suppose Robert is still at Oxford?" said Lady Esmondet.
"No, at Rome; by the way, you and Vaura will see him; he is incumbent
of St. Augustine's."
"How strange it will be to see my old playmate (sad, wound up in
himself kind of boy he was) doing clergyman's duty," said Vaura.
"You should have heard," said Douglas, eagerly, "the pitched battles
he and I fought at vacation over the vexed question of High and Low
Church. I just went for him; and anyone overhearing would have thought
me an itinerant pedlar of theology--in the vulgar tongue, street
preacher--scorning all form as Papal; one would have thought me
encased in Gladstonian armour of Disestablishment, to have heard my
harangue. Poor Bob; in vain he expatiated on the glories of the
ancient fathers; in vain he took all the saints out for an airing; in
vain he talked of the ritual coming to us from the Jews of old; in
vain he asserted that Ritualism had brought life and vigour into a
slumbering church; in vain he talked of the old fox-hunting clergy; in
vain he talked of what a glorious thing for our church to give in a
little, and Rome to give in less; of how union would be strength, and
of the brave front we would show to all Christendom; of all we could
do in stamping out infidelity and rationalism; in fact, he was
sanguine of taking in everybody; all dissenters were to join us _en
masse_. Upon my word, Bob was eloquent; I assure you, he was so
enthusiastic, that in my mind's eye I saw the whole human family--
black, white, and copper-coloured, London belles and factory girls,
swells and sweeps--all with one voice singing the most pronounced of
High Church hymns, a cross in every hand, and all clothed, not by
Worth or a London tailor, but in the garb of monk and nun. His
earnestness so carried me away that I did not awake to myself and
things of earth until I felt the pins sticking into my flesh under my
monkish robe. I then thought it time to don the armour of the Low
Churchman, and come to the rescue of the human family, engaged,
clothed and ornamented as above. So, to slaughter the vision, I fell
to by telling him he belonged to the Anglo-Catholics; was as one with
the Greek Catholics, and any liberal Catholics in the Latin Church who
did not accept extreme Roman Catholic views."
"And what answer did you receive from Father Douglas?" enquired
Bertram; "did he acknowledge the truth of your charge?"
"Yes, by Jove, he did; he acknowledged that the union of the Anglican
with the Roman communion was the dearest wish of his heart; that he
would strain every nerve in the struggle to bring about its
fulfilment; that though, no doubt, infidelity was making rapid
strides, still churchmen generally united in thinking that before
long, and for the common good, petty differences would be sunk in the
grand magnitude of the act of the union of the churches, when
infidelity would be drowned in the waves of truth."
"And a grand, majestic scheme," said Vaura; "but we are too
easy-going in our religious paces to carry it out; to be sure, we all
go to church to-day; but why? Because, forsooth, it is respectable and
fashionable. But, I believe that where the ceremonial is conducted in
the most imposing manner--and the worship of the King of Kings could
not be conducted with too much splendour--that there, we gay
butterflies of to-day, are compelled to think of whose presence we are
in, are awed into the thought of whose honour all this is done in.
Yes, one there has other thoughts than one's neighbour's _tout
ensemble_."
"There is something in what you and Robert say, Vaura," said her
godmother; "but, to tell the truth, I bother myself very little as to
our church differences. Disestablishment, by Hon. Gladstone, is a real
unrest to me."
"Oh, I don't know; let it stand or fall by its own merit," said
Douglas.
"Yes, I go with Gladstone," cried Bertram; "that 'stand and deliver'
tithe business has given the church a bad odour in the nostrils of
dissenters."
"Still, I fear, should we sever Church and State," said Vaura, "that
other old institutions will topple over. Events seem every day to be
educating us up to preparing us for greater changes than
disestablishment. 'Tis, indeed, 'a parting of the ways.' The Church
Established seemed a strong wall or fortress supporting other (some
would say) old fancies. I must confess in this, our very pleasant age
of novelties, I like to know there is something old still in its niche
of time."
"Yes, I see; I must now sing a requiem over the departing forms of
Miss Vernon and Father Douglas, as they pass into the arms of Pope
Pius at Rome," said Roland, jestingly.
"Not over me, my dear boy; I am too comfortable where I am. I expect
you, Mr. Bertram, are this moment wondering that a woman of to-day can
interest herself in anything so old as the Church; but methinks even
the butterfly (that we are named after) is in a quieter mood when the
sun is behind a cloud, and he cannot see the beauteous flowers; we,
too, have our dreamy quiet."
"Yes, yes; you, at all events, are not a soulless woman," said
Bertram, earnestly.
"There are many of us, Mr. Bertram," said Lady Esmondet, "who actually
never think of anything old unless it be our old relations."
"And then, only, if they are on the top rung," laughed Douglas.
"You people are for once forgetting our old china," said Vaura, gaily;
"our love's all blue."
"The governor told me to ask you, Bertram," said Douglas, "how you get
on with Royalton at Saint Dydimus?"
"We don't get on at all; he has no more inclination for the church,
than I have; I pity these younger sons just ran into some fat living
as a _dernier ressort_."
"He is just the fellow," said Douglas "to hail as a godsend
disestablishment, when he will be compelled to graze in more palatable
pastures."
"Oh, when Church and State are severed, primogeniture will follow;
then he will get a slice of the estate of the pater," said Vaura.
"And for the younger sons a more comfortable dinner than of herbs,"
said Bertram.
"Then you think the 'stalled ox' brings one more content in our age of
comforts," said Lady Esmondet.
"Undoubtedly."
"And I am at one with you," continued Lady Esmondet, "for it means a
full hand, a full purse, without which one might as well be extinct;
for one could not pay Society's tolls; yes, the yellow sovereign is
all powerful; one may do as one pleases if one fills Grundy's mouth
with sugar-plums; she will then shut her eyes and see with ours, for
have we not paid our tribute-money? Yes, gold is the passport to
society; a chimney sweep, with pots of gold, would find a glad welcome
where the beggared son of a belted earl would be driven forth. But,
after all, 'tis an amusing age, and one must adapt oneself to one's
time. I own there are some unpleasantnesses, as when one meets, as
Mrs. Ross-Hatton did, a maid-servant from her mother's household; one
would grow used to these mongrels in time, I suppose, as this is the
age of progress."
"If no secret, where was the field of action for mistress and maid,
godmother mine?"
"No secret whatever, dear; they met at the Lord Elton's, Prospect
Hall; you know they are considered exclusive, and, as usual, there
were some of the best set there. At one of their dinners a Sir Richard
and Lady Jones were invited; my friend did not see their _entree_,
being seated in a deep recess with Lord Elton, admiring some rare gems
in _bric-a-brac_. She was so intently engaged that, merely glancing
upwards as her host stepped forward in welcoming them, to her
amazement a coarse, underbred woman stepping towards her, offered her
hand, saying: 'I am Lady Jones; I have met you somewhere before.' My
friend, giving her a calm British stare, without noticing the hand,
said haughtily: 'Yes, I have seen you as one of my mother's household;
as under-cook, or something in that way.'"
"By Jove, what a send-off," laughed Douglas.
"I expect at the moment she devoutly wished she had never climbed to a
higher rung; but for the _denouement_, godmother."
"Lady Jones beat a retreat immediately, Sir Richard following.
Lord Elton, after a word of apology to my friend, told her he was
aware they were _nouveaux riches_ when invited; but that Jones, a
newly-fledged M.P., had also much influence, and he wished to make use
of him; so had persuaded Lady Elton to send them cards. 'It does not
signify, my dear Lord Elton,' my friend replied; 'I have before now
met the most _outre_ people with comparative indifference; if the
woman had been silent she would, with her vulgar pretensions, be with
you now; too bad for you that I have been in the way, dear old friend;
I have hopes I shall outgrow this class prejudice, though somewhat
faint ones.'"
"'You will, dear Mrs. Ross-Hatton, should you keep pace with our age,'
Lord Elton replied.
"Your friend showed a good deal of courage," said Bertram, "to give
so direct a cut. I forget who she was, I was abroad at the time of
Ross-Hatton's marriage."
"She was a Sutherland; Fido Sutherland, a beauty and a belle, and
proud as Lucifer," answered Lady Esmondet.
"And brave as a lion," said Vaura; "for 'tis the fashion to fall down,
as the Israelites did in days of yore, and worship the golden calf."
"I fear we are not going to have a passage altogether free from
storm," remarked Bertram; "see to the west, that black cloud rolling
towards us."
"I think we shall have passed its line of travel ere it catches up to
us," said Lady Esmondet.
"By the way, Bertram, did you hear that Capt. Liddo, of the
Grenadiers, made this trip in six hours in a small canoe. What do you
think of that?" asked Douglas.
"Good enough; though I'd rather make the run in the usual time in our
present company. When did Liddo do it?"
"On last Derby day."
"So, so. How long a stay do you make at Paris, Lady Esmondet?"
"I have not decided."
"Ah, that is too bad; I enjoy anticipation, and should like to dwell
on the thought of many pleasant hours with you and Miss Vernon."
"We shall be able to manage many hours together at all events, for we
can patronize the same hotel," replied Lady Esmondet.
"It is that I know such pleasant arrangement to be impossible that I
speak, some friends having taken a French flat for me."
"Ah, I do regret this is the case," said Lady Esmondet.
"At all events, Bertram, we can enter the gates together hand-in-
hand, four-in-hand; so cheer up, old fellow," cried Douglas.
"Roland, _mon cher_," said Vaura, "you must bring Isabel from Madame
Rochefort's to our hotel, even for a few days, ere your return to
Surrey."
"Exactly my plan, fair demoiselle."
"That is" she continued, merrily, "if you promise to be submissive,
and not become a monopolist; for when you, Isabel, and myself are
together, I feel as if I had lost myself; I don't know to whom I
belong; you want me, Isabel wants me, until I don't know where I am."
"Belong to me, Vaura dear," he said, earnestly, and only heard by her,
"and all will be well;" aloud he said: "Submissive! yea, as a lamb; by
the beard of the Prophet I swear it."
"It would not be such a long look to swear by your own; you have a
very handsome one."
"_Merci_, dear Lady Esmondet; I shall take greater pride than ever in
it, now it has developed a new use."
"Or, being a true believer, you might have used Aaron's," said Vaura;
"only that then would the Prophet have no rest, even in the tomb."
"One requires rest there," said her godmother; "for the demon of
unrest hath got us in this lower sphere."
"And it's quite right that it should be so, godmother mine; and in
keeping with our ceaseless song of 'I'd be a butterfly.'"
"You are a clever actress, Miss Vernon," said Bertram; "but I am
inclined to think there is a latent depth of character, a womanliness
in you that our gay butterflies of fashion lack."
"You flatter me, Mr. Bertram."
"Not so, Miss Vernon; in our day there is much to make even a woman
think; you are a thinking woman, still one has but to look at your
eyes to know that in spite of your graver moods you have a keen zest
for what is pleasant in--"
"In this 'Vale of Tears,'" put in Douglas.
Vaura's bright expressive eyes smiled, as looking upwards, she said,
feelingly:
"Yes, even though 'much salt water here doth go to waste,' one must--
some think, not I--support the weeping human who named our pleasant
world a 'Vale of Tears.' No, 'tis better to let one's thoughts dwell
on the song of the nightingale than the voice of the night-bat; We
fear too much, and hope too little; 'tis best to dwell in the sunlight
while we may."
"Yes, 'tis better to laugh than be crying," said Lady Esmondet; "and
though one must go through life with one's eyes open, one need not
follow the example of Matthew Arnold's 'Sick King in Bokhara,' and
keep them only open to the saddening sights of sin, sorrow, and
despair, that the world we know, somewhere, has so much of; one can
only do what one can for those in distress; give one's mite, and give
it with a kindly smile, in our world of so much to do."
"So many worlds so much to do, so little done such things to be," half
sang Vaura; "but here we are at the French port, and so soon."
"One does not often find this a short trip," said Lady Esmondet; "but
time has flown, all because of congenial companionship."
"Yes, he has gone too quickly for once," said Bertram; "everyone for
his own pleasure; so, as I have a through ticket, I trust none of you
wish to linger."
"By no means, with fair Paris our goal," cried Vaura.
"Why, surely, Bertram, you heard the solemn compact entered into on
our arrival at Paris hand-in-hand, and the bearded oath I swore to be
as amenable to the wishes of _la belle_ Vernon as though I were a Jack
on wires; and, I appeal to all, could I promise more?"
"Yes," laughed Vaura; "you could promise to be quiet for five minutes,
and endeavour to bear a slight semblance to a stolid, deliberate,
dignified, wrapt-up-in-himself Briton."
"Alas! and alas for a transformation scene," sighed Douglas.
"Vaura, dear," said Lady Esmondet, "I forgot to tell you I received a
note from Felicite, saying they have not as yet left for Normandy, and
that we shall find them at their house in the Avenue de
l'Imperatrice."
"Ah! that will be pleasant; I love the de Hautervilles root and
branch; and wondered a little at their meditating a trip, with the
ball for Eau Clair on the _tapis_."