"Now then, Kate, late as usual; my phaeton's at the door, and we've
only an hour and five minutes to do the twelve miles," said Cousin
John's cheery voice as he accosted me on the following morning,
running upstairs to change my dress after my early ride. Yes,
notwithstanding the ball the night before, I was not going to
disappoint Brilliant of his gallop; besides, these things are all
habit; if you once get accustomed to early hours nothing is so easy as
to keep to them. Why, even Captain Lovell was in the park as usual
with his cigar--he seems regular enough about _that_, at all
events--and he took his hat off so gracefully when he spied me
cantering up the Ride that I hadn't the heart to pass without stopping
just to say, "How d'ye do?" but of course I didn't shake hands with
him.
"Come, Kate, bustle, bustle," exclaimed that fidget John; and in less
time than my lady-readers would believe, I had put on my pink bonnet
and my white dress, and was bowling down to Richmond by the side of my
cousin, behind a roan and a chestnut that stepped away in a style that
it did one good to see.
"What a clipper that off-horse is, John," said I as we cleared London,
and got to the level road by Kew Gardens; "let me take the reins for
five minutes--they're going so pleasantly." But John don't like me to
drive anything more sporting than a pony-carriage, and he refused
point blank, which, to say the least of it, was brutal on his part. If
I hadn't thought it would make me sick, I should have liked to smoke,
on purpose to provoke him. We did the distance with three minutes to
spare, and as we pulled up in front of the Castle Hotel, I was proud
to hear the admiration our _tout ensemble_ elicited from a knot of
idlers lounging round the door. "'Ere's a spicy set-out, Bill," said
one. "Crickey! vot a pretty gal!" said another. "Vouldn't I like to be
Vilikins with she for a Dinah!" exclaimed the dirtiest of the
conclave; and although I appreciated the compliment, I was forced to
turn my back on my unwashed admirer, and reply to the greetings of the
picnic party we had come down to join.
There was Mrs. Molasses and her two daughters to begin with, people of
unheard-of wealth, of which they seemed to carry a large portion on
their persons. The mamma, ample, black-eyed, fresh-coloured, and
brocaded, with an extremely natural wig. The eldest daughter, Mary,
with whom I had afterwards reason to be better acquainted, pale,
languid, very quiet, and low-toned, with fine eyes, and soft dark
hair, and what people call an _interesting_ look. She took the
sentimental line--was all feeling and poetry, and milk and water, and
as easily frightened as she was reassured again. The younger girl,
Jane, was the very reverse of her sister--short and dark and
energetic, rather blue, and I thought a little impudent; however, I
liked her the best of the two. Then came Sir Guy and Lady Scapegrace.
The Baronet, a stout, square, elderly man, with enormous dyed whiskers
and hair to match, combining as much as possible the manners of the
coachman with the morals of the _roué_. A tremendous dandy of the
Four-in-hand Club school--high neckcloth, huge pins, gorgeous
patterns, enormous buttons, and a flower in his mouth. His lady as
handsome as a star, though a little hollow-eyed and _passée_. She
looked like a tragedy queen, with her magnificent figure, and long
black hair, and fierce flashing eyes, and woe-begone expression, and
the black velvet ribbon with its diamond cross, which she always wore
round her neck. Ah me! what stories that diamond-cross could tell, if
all be true that we hear of Lady Scapegrace! A girl sold for money, to
become a rebellious wife to an unfeeling husband. A handsome young
cousin, who cut his own throat in despair--they brought it in
temporary insanity, of course. An elopement with a gallant Major to
the south of France, and a duel there, in which the Major was shot,
but not by Sir Guy; an English lady of rank travelling on the
Continent, independent and alone, breaking banks in all directions
with her luck and hearts with her beauty; a reconciliation, entirely
for money considerations, which drove another far less erring woman
into a madhouse (but that was Sir Guy's fault); and a darker tale
still of a certain potion prepared by her hand, which the Baronet was
prevented from swallowing only by his invariable habit of
contradicting his wife on all points, and which the lady herself had
the effrontery to boast "would have settled all accounts." Not a word
of truth in any of these stories probably; but still, such is the
character the world's good nature affixes to that dark handsome woman
at whom Cousin John seems so very much alarmed.
Then there was an elderly Miss Minnows, who was horribly afraid of
catching cold, but in whose character I could perceive no other very
salient point; and a fair-haired young gentleman, whose name I did not
distinctly catch, and who looked as if he ought to have been at
school, where, indeed, I think he would have been much happier; and
sundry regular stereotyped London men and women, well bred and well
dressed, and cool and composed, and altogether thoroughly respectable
and stupid; and a famous author, who drank a great deal of wine, and
never opened his lips to speak; and I think that was all--no,
by-the-bye, there was Captain Lovell, who came very late, and we went
soberly into Richmond Park, and dined under a tree.
I do not think I quite like a picnic. It is all very well, like most
other arrangements, if everything goes right; but I sat between Sir Guy
Scapegrace and the light-haired young gentleman, and although I could
hear lots of fun going on at the other end of the tablecloth, where
Cousin John and Mary Molasses and Captain Lovell had got together, I
was too far off to partake of it, and my _vis-à-vis_, Lady Scapegrace,
scowled at me so from under her black eyebrows, though I believe
utterly unconsciously, that she made me feel quite nervous. Then it was
not reassuring to have that odious Sir Guy pressing me to eat
everything, and looking right under my bonnet, and asking me to drink
champagne at least four times; and if I turned to my other neighbour,
and ventured to address him on the most commonplace subject, he blushed
so painfully that I began to think he was quite as much afraid of me as
I was of Sir Guy. Altogether I was rather glad when the things were
cleared away and put back into the hampers, and the gentlemen asked
leave to light their cigars, and we broke up our circle, and lounged
about and enjoyed ourselves in the shade of those fine trees on that
dry velvet sward. We were rather put to it though for amusement, and
had to propose games of forfeits and other pastimes; and Cousin John,
quite unwittingly, got me into a sad scrape by boasting about his
horses. "Not such another pair out of London to-day," expatiated John
to the company in general. "We came down in seven minutes under the
hour from my aunt's door in Lowndes Street; didn't we, Kate? And never
turned a hair; did we, Kate? Why, they went so smooth Kate couldn't
keep her hands off the reins; could you, Kate? And there are few better
judges, let me tell you, than Miss Coventry." I saw the ladies look at
me, and then at each other; and I knew by that indescribable glance,
which none but a woman can thoroughly appreciate, how from that moment
they had vowed, one and all, to hate me eternally in their hearts. The
offence had been committed; the sentence had gone forth. I had been
tried for being _fast_, and found guilty _nem. com._, from sneering
Lady Scapegrace to unmeaning Miss Minnows; each stared at me for about
two seconds, and so made up her mind. I cannot think why it is that
this should be so great a crime in the eyes of my own sex. Next to
being attractive to the other half of creation--and that I can easily
understand is totally unpardonable--there is nothing makes a woman so
angry with her sister as high spirits, natural courage, and above all a
love for a horse. It is very hard upon us that we should be debarred
from all out-of-door exercises and amusements by the prejudices of
those very individuals who ought to back us up in our efforts to
enlarge the circle of our amusements. I cannot see why it follows that
because I do not mind "weather," I must, therefore, be utterly
regardless of morality; nor how my knack of breaking in a horse should
imply an infraction of all the commandments. Are men the only bipeds
that can be at the same time brave and virtuous? Must pluck and piety
be for ever divorced in the female character? Shall I never be able to
keep the straight path in life because I can turn an awkward corner
with four horses at a trot? Female voices answer volubly in the
negative, and I give in.
But odious Sir Guy thinks none the worse of me for my coaching
predilections. "Fond of driving, Miss Coventry?" says he, leering at
me from over his great choking neckcloth. "Seen _my_ team--three greys
and a piebald? If you like going _fast_ I can accommodate you. Proud
to take you back on my drag. What? Go on the box. _Drive_, if you
like. Hey!"
I confess for one instant, much as I hated the old reprobate, I should
have liked to go, if it was only to make all the women so angry; but
just then I caught Captain Lovell's eye fixed upon me with a strange,
earnest expression, and all at once I felt that nothing should induce
me to trust myself with Sir Guy. I couldn't help blushing though as I
declined, more particularly when my would-be charioteer swore he
considered it "an engagement, hey?--only put off to another time--get
the coach new painted--begad, Miss Coventry's favourite colour!" And
the old monster grinned in my face till I could have boxed his ears.
The author by this time was fast asleep, with a handkerchief over his
face, Miss Minnows searching in vain for a fabulous pair of clogs, as
she imagined the dew must be falling--it was about six p.m., and hot
June weather. Sir Guy was off to the hampers in search of "brandy and
soda," and the rest of the party lounging about in twos and threes,
when Captain Lovell proposed we should stroll down to the river and
have a row in the cool of the evening. Mary Molasses voted it
"charming;" Lady Scapegrace was willing to go anywhere away from Sir
Guy; John, of course, all alive for a lark; and though Mrs. Molasses
preferred remaining on dry land, she had no objection to trusting her
girls with us. So we mustered a strong party for embarkation on Father
Thames. Our two cavaliers ran forward to get the boat ready, Captain
Lovell bounding over the fences and stiles almost as actively as
Brilliant could have done; and John, who is no mean proficient at such
exercises, following him; whilst we ladies paced along soberly in the
rear.
"Can you row, Miss Coventry?" asked Lady Scapegrace, who seemed to
have taken rather a fancy to me, probably out of contradiction to the
other women. "I can. I rowed four miles once on the Lake of Geneva,"
she added in her deep, melancholy voice, "and we were caught in one of
those squalls and nearly lost. If it hadn't been for poor Alphonse,
not one of us could have escaped. I wonder if drowning's a painful
death, Miss Coventry; the water always looks so inviting."
"Goodness, Lady Scapegrace!" exclaimed I; "don't take this opportunity
of finding out. None of us can swim but John; and if he saves anybody,
he's solemnly engaged to save _me_."
"I quite agree with you, Lady Scapegrace," said the romantic Miss
Molasses. "It looks so peaceful, and gives one such an idea of repose.
I for one have not the slightest fear of death, or indeed of any mere
bodily changes----Gracious goodness! the bull! the bull!"
What a rout it was! The courageous young lady who thus gave us the
first intimation of danger leading the flight with a speed and
activity of which I should have thought her languid frame totally
incapable; Lady Scapegrace making use of her long legs with an utter
forgetfulness of her usually grave and tragic demeanour; and the rest
of the party seeking safety helter-skelter.
It was indeed a situation of some peril. Our course to the riverside
had led us through a long narrow strip of meadow-land, bounded by high
impervious thorn fences, such as I knew would be _bullfinches_ in the
winter, and which now, in all the luxuriance of summer foliage,
presented a mass of thorns and fragrance that no mortal could expect
to get through. At either end of the field was a high hog-backed
stile, such as ladies usually make considerable difficulties about
surmounting, but which are by no means so impossible of transit when
an infuriated bull is bringing up the rear. We were already a quarter
of the way across the field, when Miss Mary's exclamation made us
aware of our enemy, who had been quietly cropping the grass in a
corner behind us, but who now, roused by our gaudy dresses and the
piercing screams of some of our party, was lashing himself into a
rage, and looking sufficiently mischievous to be a very unpleasant
acquaintance. It was impossible to turn round and make for the stile
we had just left, as the bull now occupied a position exactly between
us and that place of safety; it was hopeless, particularly in our
light muslin gowns, to attempt the hedge on either side; there was
nothing for it but a fair run to the other end of the meadow, about a
quarter of a mile, and _sauve qui peut_ was now the order of the day.
I will not allow that I am deficient in courage; on the contrary, as
Cousin John says, "I am rather proud of my pluck;" but there is
nothing so contagious as a panic, and I too ran for my very life. The
bull came galloping after us, tossing his head and rolling his great
body about as if he quite enjoyed the fun; nor do I know how the
adventure would have ended, for he must have overtaken some of us
before we could reach our haven, had not Lady Scapegrace caught her
foot in the long grass, and, falling prostrate, buried her face in her
hands, and giving herself up, as she afterwards assured me, to the
prospect of a horrible and violent death. I could not leave her in
such a situation. By an impulse for which I cannot account I stopped
short, turned round, got between the pursuer and his fallen foe, and
with a beating heart and my knees knocking together, faced the great
mischievous brute with no other weapon, offensive or defensive, than a
laced pocket handkerchief. I believe he was a well-meaning bull after
all; for instead of crashing in upon me, as I half expected he would,
and immolating me on the spot, he too stopped short, stared, bellowed,
and began sniffing the grass, and pawing up the turf, and whisking his
tail about, just as Brilliant does when he is going to lie down. I
don't think he had ever seen a young lady, certainly not a French
bonnet before, and he didn't seem to know what to make of the
combination; so there we stood, he and I staring each other out of
countenance, but without proceeding to any further extremities. I know
I have plenty of courage, for after the first minute I wasn't the
least bit afraid; I felt just as I do when I ride at a large fence--as
I get nearer and nearer I feel something rising and rising within me
that enables me to face anything; and so when I had confronted the
bull for a little time I felt inclined to carry the war into the
enemy's country, and advance upon him. But of course all this is very
indelicate and unfeminine; and it would have been far more virtuous
and lady-like to have run shrieking away like Miss Molasses, or laid
down and given in at once like poor Lady Scapegrace, who was quite
resigned to being tossed and trampled upon, and only gave vent every
now and then to a stifled moan.
Well, at last I did advance a few steps, and the bull gave ground in
the same proportion. I began to think I should beat him after all,
when to my great relief, I must allow, I heard a voice behind me
exclaim, "By Jove, what a plucky girl!" and I thought I heard
something muttered that sounded very like "darling," but of course
that couldn't be meant for me; and Captain Lovell, hot, handsome, and
breathless, made his appearance, and soon drove our enemy into the
farthest corner of the field. As soon as the coast was clear we raised
poor Lady Scapegrace, who kissed me with tears in her eyes as she
thanked me for what she called "saving her life." I had no idea the
woman had so much feeling. Captain Lovell gave each of us an arm as we
walked on to join our party, and he explained how the screams of Miss
Molasses had reached him even at the riverside, and how he had turned
and hastened back immediately, "Fortunately in time to be of some use.
But I never saw a finer thing done, Miss Coventry; if I live to a
hundred I shall never forget it;" and he looked as if he would have
added, "or you either."
Many were the exclamations, and much the conversation created by our
adventure. The ladies who had run away so gallantly were of course too
much agitated for the proposed boating excursion; so after sundry
restoratives at the hotel we ordered the carriages to return to town.
Cousin John gave "Frank" (as he calls him) a place in the back seat of
his phaeton, and he leaned over and talked to me the whole way home.
What a pleasant drive it was in the moonlight, and how happy I felt! I
was really sorry when we got back to London. Frank seemed quite
anxious to make Aunt Deborah's acquaintance; and I thought I shouldn't
wonder if he was to call in Lowndes Street very soon.