NEW FRIENDS.
The introduction to Yoxham followed quickly upon the Earl's visit to
Wyndham Street. There was a great consultation at the rectory before
a decision could be made as to the manner in which the invitation
should be given. The Earl thought that it should be sent to the
mother. The rector combated this view very strongly, still hoping
that though he might be driven to call the girl Lady Anna, he might
postpone the necessity of acknowledging the countess-ship of the
mother till the marriage should have been definitely acknowledged.
Mrs. Lovel thought that if the girl were Lady Anna, then the mother
must be the Countess Lovel, and that it would be as well to be hung
for a sheep as a lamb. But the wisdom of Aunt Julia sided with her
brother, though she did not share her brother's feelings of animosity
to the two women. "It is understood that the girl is to be invited,
and not the mother," said Miss Lovel; "and as it is quite possible
that the thing should fail,--in which case the lawsuit might possibly
go on,--the less we acknowledge the better." The Earl declared that
the lawsuit couldn't go on,--that he would not carry it on. "My dear
Frederic, you are not the only person concerned. The lady in Italy,
who still calls herself Countess Lovel, may renew the suit on her
own behalf as soon as you have abandoned it. Should she succeed, you
would have to make what best compromise you could with her respecting
the property. That is the way I understand it." This exposition of
the case by Miss Lovel was so clear that it carried the day, and
accordingly a letter was written by Mrs. Lovel, addressed to Lady
Anna Lovel, asking her to come and spend a few days at Yoxham. She
could bring her maid with her or not as she liked; but she could
have the service of Mrs. Lovel's lady's maid if she chose to come
unattended. The letter sounded cold when it was read, but the writer
signed herself, "Yours affectionately, Jane Lovel." It was addressed
to "The Lady Anna Lovel, to the care of Messrs. Goffe and Goffe,
solicitors, Raymond's Buildings, Gray's Inn."
Lady Anna was allowed to read it first; but she read it in the
presence of her mother, to whom she handed it at once, as a matter
of course. A black frown came across the Countess's brow, and a look
of displeasure, almost of anger, rested on her countenance. "Is it
wrong, mamma?" asked the girl.
"It is a part of the whole;--but, my dear, it shall not signify.
Conquerors cannot be conquerors all at once, nor can the vanquished
be expected to submit themselves with a grace. But it will come. And
though they should ignore me utterly, that will be as nothing. I have
not clung to this for years past to win their loves."
"I will not go, mamma, if they are unkind to you."
"You must go, my dear. It is only that they are weak enough to think
that they can acknowledge you, and yet continue to deny to me my
rights. But it matters nothing. Of course you shall go,--and you
shall go as the daughter of the Countess Lovel."
That mention of the lady's-maid had been unfortunate. Mrs. Lovel had
simply desired to make it easy for the young lady to come without
a servant to wait upon her, and had treated her husband's far-away
cousin as elder ladies often do treat those who are younger when the
question of the maid may become a difficulty. But the Countess, who
would hardly herself have thought of it, now declared that her girl
should go attended as her rank demanded. Lady Anna, therefore, under
her mother's dictation, wrote the following reply:--
Wyndham Street, 3rd August, 183--.
DEAR MRS. LOVEL,
I shall be happy to accept your kind invitation to Yoxham,
but can hardly do so before the 10th. On that day I will
leave London for York inside the mail-coach. Perhaps you
can be kind enough to have me met where the coach stops.
As you are so good as to say you can take her in, I will
bring my own maid.
Yours affectionately,
ANNA LOVEL.
"But, mamma, I don't want a maid," said the girl, who had never been
waited on in her life, and who had more often than not made her
mother's bed and her own till they had come up to London.
"Nevertheless you shall take one. You will have to make other changes
besides that; and the sooner that you begin to make them the easier
they will be to you."
Then at once the Countess made a pilgrimage to Mr. Goffe in search of
funds wherewith to equip her girl properly for her new associations.
She was to go, as Lady Anna Lovel, to stay with Mrs. Lovel and
Miss Lovel and the little Lovels. And she was to go as one who was
to be the chosen bride of Earl Lovel. Of course she must be duly
caparisoned. Mr. Goffe made difficulties,--as lawyers always do,--but
the needful money was at last forthcoming. Representations had been
made in high legal quarters,--to the custodians for the moment of the
property which was to go to the established heir of the late Earl.
They had been made conjointly by Goffe and Goffe, and Norton and
Flick, and the money was forthcoming. Mr. Goffe suggested that a
great deal could not be wanted all at once for the young lady's
dress. The Countess smiled as she answered, "You hardly know, Mr.
Goffe, the straits to which we have been reduced. If I tell you that
this dress which I have on is the only one in which I can fitly
appear even in your chambers, perhaps you will think that I demean
myself." Mr. Goffe was touched, and signed a sufficient cheque. They
were going to succeed, and then everything would be easy. Even if
they did not succeed, he could get it passed in the accounts. And if
not that--well, he had run greater risks than this for clients whose
causes were of much less interest than this of the Countess and her
daughter.
The Countess had mentioned her own gown, and had spoken strict truth
in what she had said of it;--but not a shilling of Mr. Goffe's
money went to the establishment of a wardrobe for herself. That her
daughter should go down to Yoxham Rectory in a manner befitting the
daughter of Earl Lovel was at this moment her chief object. Things
were purchased by which the poor girl, unaccustomed to such finery,
was astounded and almost stupefied. Two needlewomen were taken
in at the lodgings in Wyndham Street; parcels from Swan and
Edgar's,--Marshall and Snellgrove were not then, or at least had not
loomed to the grandeur of an entire block of houses,--addressed to
Lady Anna Lovel, were frequent at the door, somewhat to the disgust
of the shopmen, who did not like to send goods to Lady Anna Lovel in
Wyndham Street. But ready money was paid, and the parcels came home.
Lady Anna, poor girl, was dismayed much by the parcels, but she was
at her wits' end when the lady's-maid came,--a young lady, herself
so sweetly attired that Lady Anna would have envied her in the old
Cumberland days. "I shall not know what to say to her, mamma," said
Lady Anna.
"It will all come in two days, if you will only be equal to the
occasion," said the Countess, who in providing her child with this
expensive adjunct, had made some calculation that the more her
daughter was made to feel the luxuries of aristocratic life, the less
prone would she be to adapt herself to the roughnesses of Daniel
Thwaite the tailor.
The Countess put her daughter into the mail-coach, and gave her much
parting advice. "Hold up your head when you are with them. That is
all that you have to do. Among them all your blood will be the best."
This theory of blood was one of which Lady Anna had never been able
even to realise the meaning. "And remember this too;--that you are in
truth the most wealthy. It is they that should honour you. Of course
you will be courteous and gentle with them,--it is your nature; but
do not for a moment allow yourself to be conscious that you are their
inferior." Lady Anna,--who could think but little of her birth,--to
whom it had been throughout her life a thing plaguesome rather than
profitable,--could remember only what she had been in Cumberland,
and her binding obligation to the tailor's son. She could remember
but that and the unutterable sweetness of the young man who had once
appeared before her,--to whom she knew that she must be inferior.
"Hold up your head among them, and claim your own always," said the
Countess.
The rectory carriage was waiting for her at the inn yard in York, and
in it was Miss Lovel. When the hour had come it was thought better
that the wise woman of the family should go than any other. For the
ladies of Yoxham were quite as anxious as to the Lady Anna as was she
in respect of them. What sort of a girl was this that they were to
welcome among them as the Lady Anna,--who had lived all her life with
tailors, and with a mother of whom up to quite a late date they had
thought all manner of evil? The young lord had reported well of her,
saying that she was not only beautiful, but feminine, of soft modest
manners, and in all respects like a lady. The Earl, however, was but
a young man, likely to be taken by mere beauty; and it might be that
the girl had been clever enough to hoodwink him. So much evil had
been believed that a report stating that all was good could not be
accepted at once as true. Miss Lovel would be sure to find out, even
in the space of an hour's drive, and Miss Lovel went to meet her. She
did not leave the carriage, but sent the footman to help Lady Anna
Lovel from the coach. "My dear," said Miss Lovel, "I am very glad
to see you. Oh, you have brought a maid! We didn't think you would.
There is a seat behind which she can occupy."
"Mamma thought it best. I hope it is not wrong, Mrs. Lovel."
"I ought to have introduced myself. I am Miss Lovel, and the rector
of Yoxham is my brother. It does not signify about the maid in the
least. We can do very well with her. I suppose she has been with you
a long time."
"No, indeed;--she only came the day before yesterday." And so Miss
Lovel learned the whole story of the lady's-maid.
Lady Anna said very little, but Miss Lovel explained a good many
things during the journey. The young lord was not at Yoxham. He was
with a friend in Scotland, but would be home about the 20th. The two
boys were at home for the holidays, but would go back to school in a
fortnight. Minnie Lovel, the daughter, had a governess. The rectory,
for a parsonage, was a tolerably large house, and convenient. It had
been Lord Lovel's early home, but at present he was not much there.
"He thinks it right to go to Lovel Grange during a part of the
autumn. I suppose you have seen Lovel Grange."
"Never."
"Oh, indeed. But you lived near it;--did you not?"
"No, not near;--about fifteen miles, I think. I was born there, but
have never been there since I was a baby."
"Oh!--you were born there. Of course you know that it is Lord Lovel's
seat now. I do not know that he likes it, though the scenery is
magnificent. But a landlord has to live, at least for some period of
the year, upon his property. You saw my nephew."
"Yes; he came to us once."
"I hope you liked him. We think him very nice. But then he is almost
the same as a son here. Do you care about visiting the poor?"
"I have never tried," said Lady Anna.
"Oh dear!"
"We have been so poor ourselves;--we were just one of them." Then
Miss Lovel perceived that she had made a mistake. But she was
generous enough to recognize the unaffected simplicity of the girl,
and almost began to think well of her.
"I hope you will come round the parish with us. We shall be very
glad. Yoxham is a large parish, with scattered hamlets, and there is
plenty to do. The manufactories are creeping up to us, and we have
already a large mill at Yoxham Lock. My brother has to keep two
curates now. Here we are, my dear, and I hope we shall be able to
make you happy."
Mrs. Lovel did not like the maid, and Mr. Lovel did not like it at
all. "And yet we heard when we were up in town that they literally
had not anything to live on," said the parson. "I hope that, after
all, we may not be making fools of ourselves." But there was no help
for it, and the maid was of course taken in.
The children had been instructed to call their cousin Lady
Anna,--unless they heard their mother drop the title, and then they
were to drop it also. They were not so young but what they had all
heard the indiscreet vigour with which their father had ridiculed the
claim to the title, and had been something at a loss to know whence
the change had come. "Perhaps they are as they call themselves," the
rector had said, "and, if so, heaven forbid that we should not give
them their due." After this the three young ones, discussing the
matter among themselves, had made up their minds that Lady Anna was
no cousin of theirs,--but "a humbug." When, however, they saw her
their hearts relented, and the girl became soft, and the boys became
civil. "Papa," said Minnie Lovel, on the second day, "I hope she is
our cousin."
"I hope so too, my dear."
"I think she is. She looks as if she ought to be because she is so
pretty."
"Being pretty, my dear, is not enough. You should love people because
they are good."
"But I would not like all the good people to be my cousins;--would
you, papa? Old widow Grimes is a very good old woman; but I don't
want to have her for a cousin."
"My dear, you are talking about what you don't understand."
But Minnie did in truth understand the matter better than her father.
Before three or four days had passed she knew that their guest was
lovable,--whether cousin or no cousin; and she knew also that the
newcomer was of such nature and breeding as made her fit to be a
cousin. All the family had as yet called her Lady Anna, but Minnie
thought that the time had come in which she might break through the
law. "I think I should like to call you just Anna, if you will let
me," she said. They two were in the guest's bedroom, and Minnie was
leaning against her new friend's shoulder.
"Oh, I do so wish you would. I do so hate to be called Lady."
"But you are Lady Anna,--arn't you?"
"And you are Miss Mary Lovel, but you wouldn't like everybody in the
house to call you so. And then there has been so much said about it
all my life, that it makes me quite unhappy. I do so wish your mamma
wouldn't call me Lady Anna." Whereupon Minnie very demurely explained
that she could not answer for her mamma, but that she would always
call her friend Anna,--when papa wasn't by.
But Minnie was better than her promise. "Mamma," she said the next
day, "do you know that she hates to be called Lady Anna."
"What makes you think so?"
"I am sure of it. She told me so. Everybody has always been talking
about it ever since she was born, and she says she is so sick of it."
"But, my dear, people must be called by their names. If it is her
proper name she ought not to hate it. I can understand that people
should hate an assumed name."
"I am Miss Mary Lovel, but I should not at all like it if everybody
called me Miss Mary. The servants call me Miss Mary, but if papa and
aunt Julia did so, I should think they were scolding me."
"But Lady Anna is not papa's daughter."
"She is his cousin. Isn't she his cousin, mamma? I don't think people
ought to call their cousins Lady Anna. I have promised that I won't.
Cousin Frederic said that she was his cousin. What will he call her?"
"I cannot tell, my dear. We shall all know her better by that time."
Mrs. Lovel, however, followed her daughter's lead, and from that time
the poor girl was Anna to all of them,--except to the rector. He
listened, and thought that he would try it; but his heart failed him.
He would have preferred that she should be an impostor, were that
still possible. He would so much have preferred that she should not
exist at all! He did not care for her beauty. He did not feel the
charm of her simplicity. It was one of the hardships of the world
that he should be forced to have her there in his rectory. The Lovel
wealth was indispensable to the true heir of the Lovels, and on
behalf of his nephew and his family he had been induced to consent;
but he could not love the interloper. He still dreamed of coming
surprises that would set the matter right in a manner that would be
much preferable to a marriage. The girl might be innocent,--as his
wife and sister told him; but he was sure that the mother was an
intriguing woman. It would be such a pity that they should have
entertained the girl, if,--after all,--the woman should at last be
but a pseudo-countess! As others had ceased to call her Lady Anna,
he could not continue to do so; but he managed to live on with her
without calling her by any name.
In the meantime Cousin Anna went about among the poor with Minnie
and Aunt Julia, and won golden opinions. She was soft, feminine,
almost humble,--but still with a dash of humour in her, when she was
sufficiently at her ease with them to be happy. There was very much
in the life which she thoroughly enjoyed. The green fields, and the
air which was so pleasant to her after the close heat of the narrow
London streets, and the bright parsonage garden, and the pleasant
services of the country church,--and doubtless also the luxuries of
a rich, well-ordered household. Those calculations of her mother had
not been made without a true basis. The softness, the niceness, the
ease, the grace of the people around her, won upon her day by day,
and hour by hour. The pleasant idleness of the drawing-room, with its
books and music, and unstrained chatter of family voices, grew upon
her as so many new charms. To come down with bright ribbons and clean
unruffled muslin to breakfast, with nothing to do which need ruffle
them unbecomingly, and then to dress for dinner with silk and gauds,
before ten days were over, had made life beautiful to her. She seemed
to live among roses and perfumes. There was no stern hardness in the
life, as there had of necessity been in that which she had ever lived
with her mother. The caresses of Minnie Lovel soothed and warmed her
heart;--and every now and again, when the eyes of Aunt Julia were not
upon her, she was tempted to romp with the boys. Oh! that they had
really been her brothers!
But in the midst of all there was ever present to her the prospect of
some coming wretchedness. The life which she was leading could not
be her life. That Earl was coming,--that young Apollo,--and he would
again ask her to be his wife. She knew that she could not be his
wife. She was there, as she understood well, that she might give all
this wealth that was to be hers to the Lovel family; and when she
refused to give herself,--as the only way in which that wealth could
be conveyed,--they would turn her out from their pleasant home.
Then she must go back to the other life, and be the wife of Daniel
Thwaite; and soft things must be at an end with her.