It was a well-known and accredited fact that in consequence of these
festivities of the Yeomen more matches were made up in this brief
interval than during any other period of the year. Match-making
individuals seriously counted on the yeomanry weeks; and probably
far-seeing young ladies had fitting matches in their eye, as well as the
fireworks and the introductory gaiety, when they came in troops to
Priorton to entertain the lucky Yeomen.
"My dear," said Mrs. Spottiswoode, the wife of the chief magistrate, who
was likewise banker of Priorton, to her spouse, "your cousin, Bourhope,
has asked his billet with us: I must have my sister Corrie in to meet
him."
Mrs. Spottiswoode was a showy, smart, good-humoured woman, but not
over-scrupulous. She was very ready at adapting herself to
circumstances, even when the circumstances were against her. For that
reason she was considered very clever as well as very affable, among the
matrons of Priorton. Mr. Spottiswoode was "slow and sure:" it was
because of the happy alliance of these qualities in him that the people
of Priorton had elected him chief magistrate.
"My dear," deliberately observed long, lanky Mr. Spottiswoode, "would it
not be rather barefaced to have Bourhope and Corrie here together?"
"Oh, I'll take care of that," answered the lady, with a laugh and a toss
of her ribbons; "I shall have some other girl of my acquaintance to bear
Corrie company;--some worthy, out-of-the-way girl, to whom the visit
will be like entering another world," continued Mrs. Spottiswoode, with
a twinkle of her black eyes. "What do you think of Corrie and my cousin
Chrissy Hunter, of Blackfaulds? The Hunters have had such a deal of
distress, and so much fighting with embarrassment--though I believe they
are getting clearer now--that the poor lassie has had no amusement but
her books, and has seen absolutely nothing."
Mr. Spottiswoode had no inclination to contradict his wife for
contradiction's sake, and as he could rely on her prudence as on her
other good qualities, he said, "Well, Agnes, I have no objection; Hunter
of Blackfaulds is an honest man though he is poor, and he is righting
himself now."
The invitations were dispatched, and accepted gratefully. The guests
arrived before Bourhope occupied his quarters; ostensibly they came so
soon to prepare for him. Corrie had nothing Roman about her except her
name, Cornelia. She was a tall, well-made, fair-faced, serene beauty;
the sole remaining maiden daughter of a Scotchman who had returned from
the Indies with a fortune, as so many returned then. He had already
endowed Mrs. Spottiswoode with a handsome "tocher," and since his
marriage had settled within five miles of Priorton. Chrissy, again, was
one of a large, struggling family; a small girl, a very little crooked
in figure, and with irregular features, and a brown complexion. If she
had not possessed a bright, intelligent expression, she would certainly
have been plain--as indeed she was to those who did not heed expression.
It was a delightful chance to Chrissy, this brief transplanting into
the flourishing, cheerful town-house, amid the glowing gaiety of the
yeomanry weeks. Accordingly she was constantly engaged in checking off
every little detail on the finger-points of her active mind, in order
that she might be able to describe them to her secluded sisters and her
sick mother at home. She was determined not to miss one item of
interest; never to sleep-in so as to lose the mount; never to stray in
her walks and fail to be in the house for the return of the afternoon
drill. She would pace the meadows among the gay promenaders, even when
the evening was cloudy, and would not care though she walked alone. She
would enjoy the play when Mrs. Spottiswoode chose to take her, and not
even object to a squeeze in the box. The squeeze was really part of the
fun! But she did not care to have her attention distracted from the
stage, even by the proffers of fruit from the Yeomen. As to the ball,
she did not allow herself to think much of that. Who would ever have
dreamt of Chrissy figuring at a fine yeomanry ball! She would not
trouble herself because she wore an old worked white frock of her
mother's, taken up by tucks to suit her, and yellowed by frequent
washing and long keeping. She would not fret because she could not spend
money upon a hair-dresser. She must dress her own hair--which was
scanty, like every other outward adornment of hers. This was little
matter, she reflected, for it would not dress under the most skilful
artist into those enormous bows on the crown of the head which everybody
then wore--it would only go into comb-curls like little hair turrets on
each side of her round, full forehead, which was by no means scanty. She
had no ornaments in the way of jewellery, save a coral necklace; while
Corrie had a set of amethysts--real amethysts--ear-rings, brooch, and
necklace, and a gold cross and a gold watch, which she rarely wound up,
and which was therefore, as Chrissy said, "a dead-alive affair." But
Corrie was a beauty and an heiress, and ornaments became her person and
position; while on Chrissy, as she herself admitted with great good
sense, they would only have been thrown away. And what did Chrissy care
for her appearance so long as her dress was modest and neat? She could
walk about and listen to the ravishing music, and study the characters
she saw, from Corrie up to the Countess, wife of the one earl who came
to Priorton, and who was Colonel of the yeomanry. The day or two before
the Yeomanry arrived was spent by the two girls in walking about,
shopping and making calls. Corrie, though a beauty, proved herself a
very dull companion for another girl to walk with. Very pretty to look
at was Corrie in a fair, still, swan-like style of beauty; and she had a
great many pretty dresses, over which she became a little more animated
when Chrissy, as a last resource and for their relief, would ask her to
turn them over and show them again. Corrie, of course, never dreamt of
offering poor Chrissy a loan of any of those worked pelerines or aprons,
which would have fitted either equally well. But Chrissy did not want
them, and she got a use out of them as they were brought out one by one
and spread before her. Ere the Yeomanry came, Chrissy knew the stock by
heart, and could have drawn them, and cut out patterns and shapes of
them, and probably did so, the little jade, when she got home.
Bourhope came with his fellows, and was more specially introduced to
Corrie and Chrissy. He had had some general acquaintance with both of
them before. He gallantly expressed his pleasure at the prospect of
having their society during his stay at Priorton. He was a farmer whose
father had made money at war prices. He had bought his own farm, and
thus constituted his son a small laird. He had an independent bearing,
as well as an independent portion of the world's goods; he was really a
manly fellow in his brown, ruddy, curly, strapping comeliness. But
better still, Bourhope was an intelligent fellow, who read other things
than the newspapers, and relished them. He was a little conceited, no
doubt, in consequence of comparing himself with others, but he had a
good heart. Corrie and Chrissy both regarded him with scarcely concealed
interest and admiration. Chrissy wished that the lads at home would grow
up to be as comely and manly; Corrie made up her mind to have just such
a husband as Bourhope.
It was evident the very first night that Bourhope was taken with Corrie.
He stared and stared at her, admiring her waxen complexion, the bend of
her white throat, and the slope of her white shoulders; and even changed
his seat at one time, as it seemed, in order to see her better. He
quickly claimed her as his partner at loo, and engaged her to walk out
with him to hear the band practising next evening. Chrissy thought it
all very natural, and all the more enjoyable. But she caught herself
fancying Bourhope and Corrie married, and rebuked herself for carrying
her speculations so far. Only she could not help thinking how Bourhope
would weary after the marriage--say when there was a snow-storm, or a
three days' fall of rain at the farmhouse. But that was Bourhope's
affair; if he was pleased, what business was it of hers? Bourhope had
this in common with Chrissy: he could entertain himself.
During the first three days of the week, Bourhope was zealous in looking
at, and attaching himself to, Corrie. But a sharp observer might have
remarked that after that he flagged a little, taking more as a matter of
course and politeness the association he had established between her and
him at tea, loo, and the evening promenade. He would even stifle a yawn
while in Corrie's company, though he was a mettlesome and not a listless
fellow. But that was only like men, to prize less what they had coveted
when it was half won.
So for a short time matters stood. Corrie, fair and swan-like, Bourhope
reasonably impressionable, Mr. and Mrs. Spottiswoode decidedly
favourable, Chrissy Hunter harmless, if not even helpful. Mrs.
Spottiswoode knew that those who dally with a suggestion are in great
danger of acting on it, and had very little doubt that the next ten
days' work, with the crowning performance of the ball, would issue in
deciding the desirable match between Bourhope and Corrie.