_FAREWELLS AND GREETINGS._
"Oh, Miss Odeyne--I beg your pardon, I mean Mrs. St. Claire, but it
seems as if my tongue would never learn the new name rightly--I've
got a favour to ask of you that I've been longing all the time to
talk to you about, and now the time's come it seems as if I didn't
know how to say it rightly."
"Why, Alice, have you turned shy all in a moment, or do you think I
have changed in a few weeks?" and Odeyne glanced at the girl's
downcast face with an encouraging smile. "Well, you shall have your
wish, and brush out my hair for me, and you can talk to me as you do
it, and let me hear what this wonderful favour is."
Alice Hanbury was a pretty, neat-fingered damsel, who had been all
her life more or less at the Rectory, and had received her training
for domestic service under the kindly eye of the mistress. She had
of late years been employed chiefly in the capacity of sewing maid,
on account of her deftness with her fingers and love for her needle,
and it had been said from time to time in the family that Alice ought
to be a lady's maid, she had so much taste and cleverness in all the
details of the toilet. For the past year or more she had attached
herself especially to Odeyne, and it was her great delight to be
permitted to dress the girl's abundant hair, or to array her for any
simple festivity to which she might be going. So it had not
surprised Odeyne on this particular occasion that Alice should follow
her to her room to ask leave to assist her to dress for dinner, and
she had willingly consented, for her month of wifehood had not damped
in the smallest her interest in every detail connected with the old
life, and to that old life the maid entirely belonged.
This unexpected visit to the old home on the conclusion of the
wedding tour had come as a delightful surprise to Odeyne--a surprise
planned by her husband, and valued tenfold as proof of the tender
love he bore her. It had been arranged between Desmond and her
parents without her knowledge, and only when the train was
approaching the well-known country had she suspected his purpose, or
understood the merry, mischievous glances and speeches which had been
perplexing her all day. And now, after a week of unalloyed
happiness, the last evening had once more come; but Odeyne was not
sad to-night, for Desmond was now her husband, and there was no room
in her faithful heart for anything but the truest love and confidence.
"Well, Alice, I am waiting to hear what this wonderful favour can be.
You may be quite sure I will do anything for you that I can." And
there was a pleasant consciousness now in the girl's mind that she
had the power to do a good deal for her old friends or dependents. A
month's experience of life as a rich man's wife had not been lost
upon her. It could not help being a pleasant experience, and just
now everything was tinged with a golden halo.
"Oh, miss--I mean ma'am--if you would only take me away with you
to-morrow! I could be quite ready, indeed I could, and I have so set
my heart upon it. They all say you must have a maid to wait upon you
in your grand new house, and though I may not be so fine as some you
could get, I know your ways, and no new maid would serve you as
faithful as I would. I've spoken to the missus and Miss Mary, and
they both approve if you do. And oh, Miss Odeyne, do take me! The
house isn't like itself without you, and I would so like to go with
you to your new home."
"Well, Alice, if you really mean it, I shall be very glad. Your
mistress was speaking about it to me the other day, and we decided
that, as she can spare you, and as it is only right you should
'better yourself,' as they say, you should come to me at the Chase.
I shall be very glad, you may be sure, but I should like you to think
it over carefully first. It is a serious thing to leave home and the
place in which one's life has always been passed, and to begin again
in quite a new one. You will get larger wages, and your life may be
more lively and amusing, but, Alice, there will be more temptations
too, and you ought to think carefully before you make your decision.
I should be so very sorry if any harm came to you from having
followed me."
"But, ma'am, I don't see how it could; I should be with you. It will
be almost the same as if I was here."
"I am afraid it will be hardly that, Alice," answered the young wife,
with a smile and a sigh, "though I shall do my best to make it so.
But you must think it over and talk to your mother, and if you decide
that you really wish it, you can come to me any time that you like."
"Oh, but, ma'am, I have spoken to mother already, and she is as
pleased as can be. She thinks I should be better away, because of
that Jim Rich, who won't let me alone"; and Alice tossed her head and
blushed a little, for that was the name of one of her admirers, and
she was conscious of having given him more encouragement than was
altogether fair, considering she never intended marrying him. "And
indeed, Miss Odeyne, it was she who bid me ask if I mightn't go away
with you to-morrow. I saw her this very afternoon, and it was that
that put it into my head. I could be quite ready, indeed I could,
and I should be so glad to get away quiet before anybody knew."
Odeyne looked thoughtfully at the girl, half understanding her
eagerness, half afraid to gratify it. She saw that Alice was very
pretty. She suspected she had reasons for wishing to get away to a
new place, but she wondered if it would be really kind to take her.
Her innocent little vanities and coquetries were very harmless here,
but might they not get her into trouble elsewhere?
"Well, is the weighty matter settled yet?" asked a clear voice at the
door, and Odeyne looked up, relieved to see her elder sister before
her. Mary always knew what to do for the best.
"Ah, Mary, you have come in good time to give us your advice. This
foolish Alice wants to leave you all to come with me to-morrow. What
must I say to her?"
Mary sat down and heard all that there was to hear, and, to the great
delight of the little Alice, decided in her favour.
"It will be better for her to go, as she has set her heart on it,"
she explained to her sister, as they went downstairs together. "She
is unsettled here and is anxious to go elsewhere, and she will be far
safer with you than anywhere else we could place her. My own opinion
is that she will get married before very long. She attracts a good
deal of notice with her pretty face and dainty little ways. She will
very likely marry rather above her own class, as she has rather grand
ideas, and is certainly hardly suited to the life of a working man's
wife. Poor little Alice! I hope she may be happy; at least she will
have a mistress who will look well after her, and more than that no
one can do."
It was a happy evening for Odeyne. After dinner she sat in the
curtained nook beside the open window, and one and another of the
dear ones came and had a little quiet talk with her. She was so
happy, and Desmond so devoted, that the anxious fears experienced at
one time or another could not but be laid at rest, at least for a
while. Guy looked with keen scrutiny into his sister's face and then
smiled.
"One needn't condole with you yet then, _Schwesterling_; you seem to
have found out 'how to be happy though married.'"
Odeyne laughed softly to herself.
"At least I shall not commit myself to any lamentations yet. I will
leave your sharp eyes to find out the domestic discord when you come
to see us. And when will that be, Guy? I shall not feel that the
Chase is quite a proper home until you have been to see us there."
"Oh, I will come all in good time, never fear, but not just at once.
It is a mistake for the relations to be too thick on the ground at
first. You will want a few months to get settled down to the new
life. It would not be fair to Desmond to come crowding in too fast.
He will want his wife to himself for the first spell at any rate."
"Desmond is too unselfish to be exacting, and he is so very fond of
you all too."
"Well, you will have Edmund at any rate close at hand. How pleased
you must have been to hear of that appointment! Five years of him
almost at your gates. He will be quite a tame cat about your place."
"It will be delightful," said Odeyne with shining eyes; "I have had a
lingering hope of something of the kind ever since I realised that
the regimental depot was so near the Chase. Desmond was almost as
pleased as I. You cannot think how anxious he is that I shall be
happy, and not miss you all too much. He is so good to me, Guy."
It was almost the only time Odeyne had allowed herself to praise her
husband quite so openly as in these few words. She was not wont to
gush at all, and Desmond was too near and too dear for her to speak
much of him. So that though her happiness and his devotion were
tolerably patent to all, she had said little of it in words; and it
was not without a feeling of keen pleasure that the mother, seeking
the quiet retreat in which her child had ensconced herself, overheard
these last words, before she herself was seen.
"I am pleased indeed to hear it, my darling," she said, as she took
the chair Guy had vacated in her favour. "I would not ask you such a
question, and indeed one has but to look at your face to read an
answer of the best kind there. Still, it is good hearing, and will
help us to send you on your way with lighter hearts; but, my darling,
there is one question your mother would like to ask you before you go
to begin the new life, but I will not do so unless you tell me I may.
I would not intrude----"
"Mother, darling, how could you? As if there were anything in the
world I would not tell you. I love to talk everything over with you.
Only I don't want to bore people with my affairs, and I know it
sounds so silly to be always praising one's husband."
"You need never fear tiring me either with praise or any kind of
confidence, little daughter. I love Desmond dearly; he is almost
like one of my own boys. What I wanted to ask you, my dear
child--just the one little doubt that troubles me sometimes--will
Desmond help you to rule your household in the fear and love of God?
Will he think of the welfare of others in the ordering of his daily
life? So much will depend upon the atmosphere, of your house--if you
understand what I mean by that. You will have responsibilities
resting upon you, darling, such as you have never known before.
There will be many lives in the future more or less influenced for
good or evil by yours. If you are lax and careless, others will
become so, almost as a matter of course, whilst in proportion as you
show a regard for what is of paramount importance, so will your
dependents be led to do the same. You cannot live for yourselves
alone--none of us can. We have duties towards others that we cannot
rid ourselves of, however much we may wish. You understand that, my
child? I know you wish to do right; but do you quite understand that
you will be in the position of one whose actions will be watched by
many, and who will have a wide-spreading influence over many lives?"
"Mother dear, I think I do, and indeed I will try. I do want to do
what is right--to make our home like this."
"And will Desmond help you?"
"Oh, I think so. He is so kind and considerate whenever we make
plans together. Of course he is a little reserved--men always
are--and I am not very good at talking either; but he means well, I
know. He has very beautiful thoughts sometimes--only you know he has
never had a home of his own like ours, so it is hardly to be expected
for him to feel just as I do."
"But you will help him and lead him? He loves you so dearly that he
will do much for your sake; and remember, my dear child, that
much--very much--depends on beginnings. Try to begin well, and the
habit once formed will, in itself, be a help. You will understand
better as you go on what I mean, and your mother's prayers will be
with you always that you may be guided right."
"Your home--our home--my darling. Do you think it will ever be as
dear as the old one?"
Desmond looked with fond pride into the sweet face of his bride as he
put this question, and caught the look of sparkling happiness in her
dewy eyes.
"Desmond, it is lovely--you never told me half. How I wish they
could all see it! I shall never be able to make them understand how
beautiful it all is. I am almost afraid of being mistress of such a
house. Oh! suppose I do not give you nice dinners--suppose I make a
dreadful muddle of the housekeeping? Whatever will you say?"
He laughed and kissed her fondly.
"Well, in that awful contingency we will get in a housekeeper to
relieve you of all the distasteful offices. My wife is not going to
be allowed to worry herself over disagreeable duties. She is to be a
lady at large, ready to do the honours of the Chase, and go about to
all the festivities, and make the county belles die of envy. Oh,
yes, my love, I shall say what I please now. You are my property; I
shall be as proud of you as ever I like. I am going to make my
little wife a very important person, and if you think that
housekeeping details will bore or worry you, we will get a woman in
forthwith to relieve you of the burden."
"Now! Desmond, how can you talk such nonsense? as if I were quite a
goose! Why, I am appalled as it is at the number of servants we seem
to have--if those were the servants we saw drawn up in the hall to
welcome us. I do not think we can possibly want them all, let alone
another. Little Alice will be quite superfluous, I fear."
"Not a bit of it. You must have your own maid. And as for the rest,
you will find you want them all. My mother has made all the
arrangements of that kind, and she knows what the house wants; she
lived here long enough to be an authority on such points."
"Your mother--Oh! Desmond, shall we go and see her this first
evening? Would she like it?"
"Oh, she would like it well enough; but don't you think it would be
rather a bore for us? I want my wife all to myself."
She gave him a quick kiss. She liked to hear him speak after this
fashion, but her answer was decided.
"I think it would be nice to go. I want to see her so much; and you
know she must be so eager to see you again. Yes, let us go, Desmond
dear. You must really be impatient to see your mother."
Desmond submitted, only stipulating that they should return home for
dinner. They had spent the previous night in London, and had come
down early to the Chase, so that there would be plenty of time for
the proposed visit.
The young husband was very particular as to the appearance his wife
presented; hut, though her dresses were country made and very plain,
they fitted her to perfection, and suited her so well that even his
fastidious eye could find no fault. Odeyne was quite amused at his
anxiety as to what impression she made, but gradually came to
understand it better.
It was a new thing to have out a carriage and pair of horses, to go a
distance of less than two miles, and to sit behind two men-servants;
but Odeyne could not help feeling a little innocent exaltation in her
grandeur--with a hope that it was not wrong to find it all so
delightful--and as they neared the abode of her mother-in-law, she
had other things to think of.
Desmond's mother! How she would love her! She should never feel
that she had lost her son by his marriage. No wife ought ever to
stand between a mother and her son; but before she had got to the end
of her train of thought the carriage stopped, and she found herself
following Desmond into a lofty room, rather dim, and redolent of some
subtle perfume, but furnished in the sumptuous way that was quite new
to the inexperienced country girl.
The next moment her hands were taken by a pair of thin, cold ones,
and she found herself kissed French-fashion on both cheeks; but
somehow she was not able to put her arms about her new mother's neck,
as she had always intended--not that there was any lack of cordiality
in the voice that said--
"And so you have come the very first day? Really, my dear children,
I am very much obliged to you."
"That was Odeyne's doing. I could not get her to settle to anything
till she had seen you. She felt so certain you must be dying to see
me again. You see, we mean to practise the domestic virtues in the
most exemplary manner."
"The more the better, Desmond. I am glad Odeyne has so much kindly
sense and sound, feeling. My dear, if this great boy of mine tries
to laugh you out of any of your charming old-world ways, do not pay
any attention to him. You are wiser than he will ever be--stick to
your own opinion, and bring him round to it."
"You see what you have to expect, Odeyne--a life of constant
struggling and tyrannical opposition," cried Desmond merrily. "Never
mind, you will at least have an ally in my mother, and she is a host
in herself. Ah, here is Maud! Well, madam, you did not expect to
find this ceremony inflicted on you so early, did you? Pray let me
introduce my wife, and you must make your peace with her as best you
may, for I assure you she has never forgiven you your absence at the
wedding. Odeyne is a great stickler for etiquette, eh, wifie?"
"Desmond, how can you?" But Desmond rattled away in the same
nonsensical fashion, whether to cover a species of nervousness, or
simply to try and put all parties at their ease, Odeyne did not feel
certain. The mood was new to her in this particular form, and she
was not quite sure that she liked it. She would rather have heard
something besides banter and nonsense from his lips at this first
interview with his relations.
But whilst he rattled on to Maud, Odeyne had the opportunity to enjoy
a little quiet talk with his mother, which was just what she wanted.
She hoped the pretty old lady, with the bright eyes and dainty grace
of manner, would talk to her of her boy, and reveal, by little
nameless touches, the motherliness in her nature, but somehow the
interview failed to be quite satisfying, or, perhaps, Odeyne had
expected too much.
Mrs. St. Claire was very gracious and affable. Notwithstanding the
fact that her eyes scanned the girl from head to foot in a way that a
shy person would have found rather disconcerting, she talked very
kindly, though at times with a touch of satire in her voice and
manner that jarred a little upon Odeyne.
She paid her daughter-in-law many little compliments of a very
refined and graceful kind; but Odeyne would have liked a warm
pressure of the hand, or a tender look towards the son, better than
all these put together. She could not help feeling as if some kind
of a gulf lay between herself and these people, and as the feeling
was quite unknown to her in the life she had led at home, it was
disconcerting, and she was disposed to blame herself for it.
Desmond did not stay long, nor did it seem expected that he should.
Odeyne hardly spoke a word to the stately sister, of whom she felt a
considerable amount of awe. She ventured to ask her to come soon to
see her, but she was not sure that the invitation had not been rather
taken as an affront, it was so coldly responded to.
"Well, no one can say we have not done our duty nobly," cried
Desmond, throwing himself backward in the carriage with a sigh that
sounded rather like one of relief. "Poor old Maud, she looks a bit
glum, but that was always the way with her. You seemed to hit it off
nicely with the mother, Odeyne. She is a mighty particular old lady,
too, so you are to be congratulated."
Odeyne smiled and made no reply. She would not admit even to herself
that she had been damped or disappointed. She said that it was
foolish to expect every home party to be like the one she had just
left, and that she should soon learn to understand other people's
ways without feeling chilled. Desmond, almost as if he divined that
she had been a little disappointed, was tenderness itself all the
evening, and they had a wonderfully sweet time, walking in the quaint
old garden and wandering about the dusky rooms, planning the use for
each, and picturing the happy life they were about to commence
together. Even the grand dinner, with two men-servants in the room,
did not oppress Odeyne. She was not quite sure if she liked it as
well as the simpler mode of life to which she was accustomed, but at
least it interested and amused her, and she liked to watch and admire
the easy way in which her husband took his place and gave his orders.
The evening, when they sat out together on the terrace and watched
the moon rise over the trees, was perfect, and the girl's heart was
very full of thanksgiving for the happiness of her future lot.
"Shall we have prayers in the hall, dear? It seems the most suitable
place, I think," she said, rising to move indoors as the clock struck
ten. Desmond had risen too. Now he paused, and looked at her a
little oddly in the dim light.
"Prayers! Oh, I had not thought about that. I don't think, dearest,
that we can manage evening prayers here."
"Why not, Desmond dear?"
"You see, Odeyne, we shall often be out in the evening, and often we
shall have people in the house who will not be used to that ceremony;
and I can't bear a parade, or making that kind of thing a bore to
people. I'm sure you would not wish it either. And it is no good
beginning unless one means to keep it up."
Odeyne stood still thinking, with a little shadow upon her face.
"Well, Desmond dear, I do not want to do anything to bring what we
prize into contempt; but we should not like to have no prayers in our
house. Shall we have them in the morning instead? We shall always
be at home then, and if people do not like them, as you seem to
think, they need not come down. But the household will meet together
regularly, as we did at home."
Desmond seemed still to hesitate; but it was the first thing she had
asked him in the new home, and he loved her too well to deny any
request of hers willingly.
"Well, darling, we will settle it so, though you know your ideas on
some points are rather antiquated. We will have prayers in the
mornings before breakfast, and the only stipulation I make is that if
I am not down in time, you read them yourself."
Odeyne smiled and consented, but she thought the stipulation not
likely to be enforced, and the experience of the following week
proved her confidence to be well grounded. Desmond was everything
her heart could wish, and the days flew by one after another as if on
golden wings.
The only small trouble was the coldness of Maud, with whom she had
resolved to make such friends, for Desmond had spoken several times
of Maud's devotion to himself.
Odeyne was quite unable to comprehend that dumb, pained jealousy
which Maud experienced every time she saw Odeyne and her husband
together. How could she guess at the vague heart-hunger of one who
had never been ardently loved, whose lot it had always been to give,
rather than to receive, tokens of affection?
"I want to show you something," she exclaimed one day, when Maud
chanced to drive across with some message from Mrs. St. Claire; "I
have been planning a surprise for Desmond, and it has just come. He
is in town, of course, and I have nobody to share my pleasure with.
I am so glad you have come!" and she put her arm within that of Maud,
trying hard not to think her irresponsive and cold. Surely she would
take pleasure in anything that was done for Desmond!
Odeyne led the way across the hall to the little sanctum that was
Desmond's particular "den." Hitherto that place had been rather
sparsely furnished, but to-day it had been completely metamorphosed
by the introduction into it of a very beautiful carved and inlaid
bureau, a chair of the same sort of workmanship, an overmantel, and
some fine skin rugs laid down upon the floor.
"There!" cried Odeyne, with innocent pride and pleasure, "now the
room looks worthy of Desmond, does it not?"
Maud looked round with eyes that took in everything, and that
expressed a certain amount of surprise.
"It is very handsome," she said. "That sort of work is very
uncommon, and----"
She stopped, but Odeyne understood in a moment what the unfinished
sentence implied, and answered eagerly--
"It is rather expensive, but it is good, and I knew it was just
Desmond's taste, and that he would not get it for himself. You see,
I have an uncle in Australia, and he sent me a cheque to get myself a
wedding present. It did not come till after we were married, and so
I just kept my little secret from Desmond, and ordered these things
for a surprise. Do you think he will like them?"
"Yes," answered Maud, but still in the same rather cool way; she
hesitated a moment, and then added in a hasty and almost nervous
fashion, "But you might have been wiser to keep your money, Odeyne.
You may want it for something more important some day. And I would
not encourage Desmond to be extravagant, if I were you. Don't let
him think he must needs have everything he sets his fancy on. It's
not the best thing for any of us!"
Then she bid a hasty adieu to her sister-in-law, and beat a retreat,
leaving Odeyne standing in the middle of the beautified little room
with rather a startled look upon her face.
What had made Maud say that?