saved Providence a great deal of trouble?"
"How so, my dear?"
"Well, you see, two people had to die before we could be happy, and even
then we had lost four years of our life. Joe, I am determined that
Bloxam shall not get Stella, even if I have to come into the church and
forbid the marriage when you ask whether anyone knows of any just cause,
so you had better help me."
"Well, my dear, I have given my word not to interfere; I don't see how I
can help in any way. Surely you don't want me to speak to Bloxam?"
"Not I. Fancy trying to get Bloxam to disobey the finger of Providence
when it points to a pretty girl like Stella, just ready, as he thinks,
to drop into his big mouth like a ripe plum. No, I _may_ want your
help, but I shall try and do without it. But if I _do_ ask you to do
anything, you had better just do it."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_Three_.
Next day an air of hushed expectancy seemed to envelop the Parsonage.
Stella complained of a headache; she certainly looked rather pale, and
her eyes had an unnatural brightness. Lavinia and Matilda appeared in
garb which, although still severely simple, was more in accordance with
current fashions than had hitherto been their rule. At breakfast they
thawed just a little towards their hostess, and the glances they shot
from time to time in Stella's direction was rather less acid than usual.
Breakfast over, they retired to the drawing-room, after each had
selected a book of most portentously moral tone from the well-stocked
shelves of the Reverend Josiah. Here they sat together on the sofa like
a statued group of the cardinal virtues, with Charity left out.
It was early in the afternoon when a whisper to the effect that the
three suitors had arrived thrilled through the house. The wagons were
outspanned in an open space about three hundred yards away, and thither
the Reverend Josiah hastened with a hearty welcome. The Parsonage was
not equal to accommodating the three gentlemen, but they were expected
to take their meals there although sleeping at the waggons, alongside
which a tent was pitched.
The varied emotions swaying the three men were apparent in their faces
and their demeanour as they accompanied Mr Wiseman to the Parsonage. Mr
Bloxam's delighted anticipations shone out of his face, and his feet
seemed to tread upon air. Mr Winterton appeared to be more impressed by
the gravity of the situation than by its other aspects. His mouth was
set in a hard line, his face was pale, and the pupils of his eyes were
contracted to the size of pinpoints. Mr Wardley looked haggard, his
feet shuffled as he walked, and the throbbing of his heart filled his
ears with thunder. Mr Wiseman tried to be friendly, and made one or two
attempts in the direction of jocularity, but his wife weighed heavily on
him, and he felt crushed as though with the weight of an impending
catastrophe.
The three brides-elect were sitting in the drawing-room with Mrs Wiseman
when the party arrived. Stella had retired into a corner, where she sat
in the shadow. When the door opened she saw the unmistakable face of Mr
Bloxam radiant in the fore, and the pale, dejected visage of Mr Wardley,
who was taller than either of his companions, bringing up the rear.
After the formal introduction, some attempts were made at conversation,
in the middle of which Mr and Mrs Wiseman, as was expected of them, left
the room. Then Mr Bloxam came to the front in his _role_ of man of the
world. His self-confidence had for the moment given way under the
stress of his emotions, but now he was his own Bloxam again, and
skilfully piloted the company over the troubled sea of restraint in
which they had been drifting to a haven of disembarrassment. His
conversation was mainly directed towards the two elder ladies, but he
now and then addressed a remark to Stella, who maintained her seat in
the corner. She and Mr Wardley exchanged one or two fleeting glances,
each of which was followed by a painful blush. Mr Winterton, from the
first, directed furtive attentions towards Matilda, and once, when the
discreet cheek of that damsel flushed faintly under a glance of more
than usually intent scrutiny, he turned a fiery red, coughed nervously,
and looked away in confusion.
At the tea-table, afterwards, Mr Bloxam still took the conversational
lead. Mrs Wiseman was sweetness personified, and ably seconded Mr
Bloxam's efforts to keep the ball rolling. Stella sat silent and
demure, and both Lavinia and Matilda gave evidence of the superiority of
their minds by making discreet comments from time to time. Mr Wardley
complained of a headache, and looked really ill. He and Stella had been
placed at opposite corners, with the whole length of the table between
them, and they now and then exchanged glances--brief as
lightning-flashes, and as destructive to their peace of mind. When the
ladies retired to the drawing-room, Wardley followed Mrs Wiseman to the
passage, and begged her to excuse him for the rest of the evening, as he
felt too ill to remain. She accompanied him to the door, bade him
good-night with a friendly pressure of the hand, and told him to keep up
his spirits, as things might not be so bad as they appeared.
Mr Wardley returned to the wagons, and flung himself upon his bed in
bitter agony of mind. Stella transcended all he had dreamt of her; and
the first glance from her clear brown eyes had been to his heart like a
match set to an inflammable pile. He loved her utterly and suddenly,
and he at the same time realised how hopeless was his chance of winning
her.
The counterpart of Wardley's love for Stella was an utter loathing of
the idea of marriage with either of the others. His mind was made up;
he would refuse to carry out the compact. He knew that this would cost
him his position in the ministry, and the thought caused him acute and
remorseful pain, for he believed thoroughly in the genuineness of his
calling; but he felt that marriage with one of these women would, under
his present dispositions, be a crime more deadly than any other he could
commit. He was quite clear as to the course which he had to pursue; he
would wait until Stella had been formally appropriated by Mr Bloxam, and
then steal quietly away to some spot where he could hide his shame and
grief, leaving a brief letter for Mr Wiseman, with some sort of an
explanation of his conduct.
In the meantime the course of events at the Parsonage ran smoothly. Mr
Bloxam was not very successful in his efforts to become confidential
with Stella, who clung to Mrs Wiseman like a frightened child, and could
not be enticed from her side. He was very gallant with Miss Lavinia,
but guardedly so; and he carefully abstained from giving her any grounds
for inferring that his attentions were based on anything more than mere
civility. Mr Winterton and Miss Matilda made great strides in their
intimacy; they got into a corner quite early in the evening, and
remained there playing solitaire. Towards the end they had quite a
gamesome little scuffle over the last marble but one, when the chaste
Matilda archly attempted to cheat in the most barefaced and obvious
manner. The rest of the company left them quite undisturbed, and, in
fact, rather ostentatiously ignored them. The only one who took the
least notice of their sedate flirtation was Stella, who shot glances of
fearful curiosity into their corner now and then, and thought with
dismay that she and Mr Bloxam would most probably soon be similarly
situated.
At length the hour for prayers struck, and all moved into the
dining-room. As the senior stranger, Mr Bloxam was called upon to give
an exhortation, and, in complying, he did justice to the occasion. He
had all the texts of Scripture that deal with marriage at his tongue's
tip, and he painted the moral advantages of that holy estate with such
fervour and fluency that the thought crossed Stella's mind that he must
be a widower in disguise, and she wondered whether this would not be a
valid excuse for her refusing to marry him, as the three had been
represented as bachelors in the first instance. Then she smiled to
herself at the foolishness of her imaginings, and again surrendered to
the feeling of numbing despair which had been creeping over her.
After the discourse came a short, fervent, and very explicit prayer for
the special interposition of Providence at the present very important
juncture, at the end of which Mrs Wiseman's enunciation of the "Amen"
was heard so loudly and distinctly above the other voices, that her
husband started violently and looked round at her in obvious alarm.
In bidding Stella "good-night," Mr Bloxam put so much expression into
his voice, and so much unction into the pressure of his hand, that the
girl had to clench her teeth hard to keep from screaming. Mr Winterton
and Matilda developed their idyll over the solitaire board to the very
end of the evening. After prayers she fetched the board from the
drawing-room for the purpose of showing him a puzzle she had learnt from
a lady friend who was champion solitaire player of the village she lived
in, and this engrossed them until the moment of departure. It was then
that Mr Bloxam indulged in his first piece of badinage. He said to
Stella, with something which looked atrociously like a wink, and in a
voice that all could hear, that he supposed Brother Winterton was making
the most of what remained of his "solitaire" condition, and he added
with an inflection of tenderness in his voice, that this condition was
now nearly at an end for all of them. Brother Winterton hung his head
shamefacedly, Matilda was covered with becoming confusion, and Stella
winced as though struck with a whip.
On the way back to the wagons the two ardent swains paused for a few
minutes' conversation beneath the glowing stars. "Would it be amiss if
I were to ask whether you feel your inclinations being guided in any
particular direction?" asked Mr Bloxam.
"Since you inquire, I will tell you that Miss Whitmore is the one
towards whom I feel attracted," replied Mr Winterton, without
hesitation.
After a pause, which gave the idea that he waited to be questioned, Mr
Bloxam said in a nervous tone:--
"Since you have given me your confidence, Winterton, I will tell you
that some influence, such as I have never before experienced, seems to
draw me towards Miss Mason. In these matters we must believe that we
are guided through our inclinations, and I have determined not to be
disobedient to the pleasing monition. I shall propose for Miss Mason's
hand to-morrow."
"What a pity Wardley is indisposed," said Mr Winterton, after a moment's
pause. "I hope he recognises his fore-ordained helpmeet in Miss
Simpson, as we do in the ladies of our choice."
"I think Miss Simpson will suit Wardley admirably," said Mr Bloxam,
quickly; "he is just the man who ought to marry one older than himself.
You see how delicate he is, and it is meet that his wife be one whose
age and experience fits her to take care of him."
"Ye-e-s," replied Mr Winterton.
"I think," rejoined Mr Bloxam, "that as Wardley is unwell to-night we
had better not excite him by discussing these important subjects in his
hearing."
"I quite agree with you," replied Mr Winterton.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Mrs Wiseman went to bid Stella "good-night" she found the girl
sobbing on her pillow as if her heart were breaking.
"Cheer up, my deary," said the kind woman; "things may not be as bad as
you think. Look here, I want you to-morrow to do exactly as I tell you
to, and ask no questions. Will you promise to do so?"
"Yes," whispered Stella through her sobs.
"Very well, then. To-morrow morning, first thing, you are to write a
note to that young man you made friends with on board ship asking him to
come up and take lunch with us."
Stella nodded.
"When the reply comes you are to look hurriedly at the letter, put it
into your pocket without opening it, and leave the room."
Stella again nodded.
"You are to return in a few minutes, and sit down again without saying a
word about the letter."
Stella again nodded. She was now drying her tears, and the look on her
face was decidedly less woebegone than it had been a few moments
previously.
"Now, look here," said Mrs Wiseman, "keep up your spirits; I will get
you and young Wardley out of this if I possibly can. You have just got
to do exactly what I tell you. I am very glad that he is sick and out
of the way just now. Good-night, my deary; keep your spirits up, and
all will come right, or else my name isn't Louisa Wiseman."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_Four_.
Next morning Mrs Wiseman rose very early and went downstairs to her
husband's study, where she locked herself in for about half an hour.
She then went and sought for Stella, whom she found sitting in her room
dressed. She sent her down to the study, telling her to write the
letter inviting young Ramsay to lunch, warning her at the same time not
to mention the fact of the invitation to anyone. The invitation Mrs
Wiseman enclosed to the local agent for the _Silver Linings_ who
happened to be a friend of hers, asking him as a particular favour to
send it out by a special messenger to the vessel, and to transmit any
reply that might come under cover to herself personally.
At breakfast-time Mr Wardley was reported to be still very unwell;
however, as he distinctly refused to see a doctor, no alarm was felt on
his account. It was, of course, felt that his absence caused a hitch in
the otherwise harmonious proceedings. After breakfast Mrs Wiseman went
up to the wagons to see him, and returned with the report that, although
he was undoubtedly ill and quite unable to appear at present, he would
most probably be sufficiently recovered to put in an appearance in the
course of the afternoon. When Mrs Wiseman made this announcement, her
husband looked extremely uneasy, and after a few moments got up and
hurriedly left the room. Both Mr Bloxam and Mr Winterton looked at
Lavinia with expressions of commiseration, whilst she maintained a
demeanour which suggested subdued tenderness and resignation.
The Parsonage grounds were rich with trees, and thus afforded suitable
localities for amatory dalliance. In its bosky recesses many a clerical
swain had sported with his Amaryllis in the shade, and thither the
ardent Winterton led his coy Matilda soon after breakfast, and elicited,
after becoming hesitancy, her blushing acceptance of his hand and heart.
When he attempted to seal the compact with an embrace, she disengaged
herself with a twittering little scream from his unaccustomed arms and
fled. Her confusion, however, was such that she did not run towards the
house, but into a thick shrubbery which lay in quite another direction.
Thither Mr Winterton followed without a moment's hesitation, and the
twittering scream was repeated, but in a rather fainter tone. However,
Matilda must have forgiven her lover whatever liberties he may have
taken, for when they returned together to the house not very long
afterwards they both looked extremely happy, and were apparently the
best of friends.
Stella kept close to Mrs Wiseman, and a great deal of unsuccessful
diplomacy was exercised by Mr Bloxam with the object of obtaining a
_tete-a-tete_ with the object of his growing passion. At length a reply
to Stella's letter arrived from Mr Ramsay. It had been, as arranged,
sent in a cover addressed to Mrs Wiseman. She at once took it to her
husband, who was sitting, a prey to great nervousness, in his study.
"Joe," she said in a tone that admitted of neither contradiction nor
argument, "in five minutes exactly you are to send the servant with that
letter to Miss Mason in the drawing-room."
She then hurried from the room, without giving him time to reply, and
went to where poor Stella was awaiting her in a fever of trembling
suspense. She took the girl's arm and hurried her to the drawing-room,
where the enamoured Bloxam was sitting, apparently absorbed in the
perusal of a book which he was holding upside down. When close to the
door, she whispered hurriedly to the girl--
"Remember what I told you to do when the letter comes. After you have
returned we will all three go to the summer-house in the garden. Do you
understand?"
"Yes," whispered Stella.
"Now, you must attend particularly to what I tell you. When we have
been in the summer-house for a few minutes I will stand up and leave;
just afterwards I will call to you, and you must follow me at once,
without looking after you or picking up anything you may see lying
about. Do you understand?"
Stella answered with a hasty nod, and the two then entered the
drawing-room.
"What do you say to a walk in the garden under this young lady's
guidance?" asked Mrs Wiseman, with an arch glance at Mr Bloxam.
"Certainly--I shall be delighted."
"Very well, I shall leave you to entertain each other. I must now see
about doing something for poor Mr Wardley. I feel _so_ sorry on account
of his being in trouble just now."
At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and a servant entered with
a letter for Stella. She took it with looks of extreme confusion, and,
without even asking to be excused, stood up at once, and ran from the
room. Mrs Wiseman looked after her with a smile, and then turned a
beaming face on Mr Bloxam, who seemed puzzled and uneasy. After a
couple of minutes, Stella returned, and Mrs Wiseman then stood up at
once.
"Now, Stella, if you have _quite_ finished reading that very interesting
letter, we will take Mr Bloxam to the summer-house, where I shall
formally hand him over to you to entertain. Come along."
They sauntered down the garden-walk, Mrs Wiseman and Stella walking
arm-in-arm in front, and Mr Bloxam, a prey to delighted anticipation and
vague uneasiness, following closely. Ever since the episode of the
letter a sense of insecurity had weighed on him, and he felt like one
walking over ground where pitfalls were imminent. They reached the
summer-house. It was an arbour covered with trailing Banksia roses, and
into the tender gloom of which the light trickled through tangled
greenery. They entered; Mrs Wiseman and Stella sat down together on a
rustic bench, and Mr Bloxam, after a moment's hesitation, took a seat
next to Stella.
"Now," said Mrs Wiseman, with an arch inflection in her voice, "I will
leave you two to entertain each other. I have to see about my
housekeeping, you know. But I daresay you will not miss me very much."
With that she stood up and walked away in a manner marvellously light
and springy for one of her weight. As she disappeared she threw back a
nod over her shoulder with what Mr Bloxam took to be a friendly and
sympathetic smile.
Poor Stella sat staring rigidly before her, convulsively grasping the
woodwork of the rustic seat, and wondering as to what terrifying
development things were now about to take. The moment was one of the
few in Mr Bloxam's life in which he experienced the sensation of
bashfulness. He tried hard to think of some effective way of opening
the conversation, but the field of rhetoric which he had assiduously
cultivated was struck suddenly with blight, and yielded him never a
flower at his need. Stella strained her expectant ears to catch Mrs
Wiseman's voice. Mr Bloxam cleared his nervous throat for the third
time, and Stella knew, although she could not see them, that his lips
were forming to the speech she so much dreaded. Then the longed-for
diversion came; a step was heard on the gravelled walk outside, and,
after a judiciously loud "Ahem!" Mrs Wiseman appeared in the doorway.
Stella looked up at her with eyes full of helpless appeal. Mr Bloxam
was still the prey to bashfulness.
"It is really _too_ tiresome; but I find I must ask you to excuse Stella
for just a few minutes, Mr Bloxam. Now, don't be cross; she will be
back just now. Mind," shaking her finger at him, "you are not to move
out of the summer-house until she returns."
Stella joined Mrs Wiseman at the door and accompanied her to the house.
Mr Bloxam was, as a matter of fact, extremely glad of the interruption,
for he felt he could now collect his thoughts, and thus by the time
Stella returned he would be in a position to express his passion in
terms of appropriate eloquence. He closed his eyes and leant back in
the rustic seat. The ferment in his bosom was, however, too great to
admit of his remaining quiet for long, so he stood up and began to pace
to and fro.
But what was that lying on the seat from which Stella had just risen?
It appeared to be a letter which must have fallen out of her pocket as
she stood up. It was folded into a square of about two inches, and the
writing was evidently that of a man. He would put it into his pocket
and return it to her when she came back. Just then the fact of Stella's
having received a letter in the drawing-room, and the suspiciously
confused manner in which she had thereafter left the apartment, loomed
up before his mind in ugly prominence. He had been extremely curious
about that letter. Who could it have been from? Perhaps from some
fellow-passenger. Well, she would be his wife to-morrow (rapturous
thought), so there could be no objection to his knowing all about her
correspondence. After the usual manner of elderly husbands of young
wives, he had strong views as to the advantages of absolute confidence
between spouses. He would not mind her reading every letter he had
written or received during the past twenty years. Well, she would be
back in a few minutes, so he must waste no time if he really meant to
gratify what was only a reasonable curiosity, Pshaw! it was but a
trifle, after all. Why make such a pother about it? He sat down,
opened the sheet carefully, so as to be able to refold it in exactly the
same manner, and began to read (the document had no date):--
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"My Dearest,--I am very, very sorry that I cannot come and see you
to-day, but I am hard at work, and I cannot get leave. Please, like a
dear little girl, meet me again in the arbour. I will be there to-night
at the same hour. Be sure and leave the gate open. It is very cruel of
you to insist on my giving up the few letters of yours I have. Don't
you remember that you promised to write to me every month as long as you
live? Ah! if we could only live through these happy months again!
"Yours, lovingly, D.R.
"P.S.--Don't forget the garden gate."
As Mr Bloxam read, beads of perspiration gathered on his forehead, and
the veins of his temples became like knotted cords. He read the
incriminating missive two or three times, and on each perusal the
revelation seemed to become more and more atrocious. The face of Stella
became hateful to him. "D.R." Who was "D.R."? Some fellow on board
ship, no doubt. To think that _she_--to whom he had so narrowly escaped
being linked for life--was one who could make guilty appointments with a
lover just on the verge of her entrance into the holy estate of
matrimony with a minister of the Gospel. Why, the very spot where he
was sitting was polluted by their guilty caresses! No wonder the
abandoned creature had looked perturbed. He would go and denounce her
to Mr Wiseman without further delay. Crushing the letter in his
indignant hand, he left the summer-house and hurried up the garden path.
Mr Wiseman, however, he could not find. He felt he must speak to
someone. Mr Winterton and Matilda had gone to the shore to gather
shells. Mrs Wiseman was nowhere to be seen. After pausing in the
passage, he entered the drawing-room, and there found Lavinia deeply
engrossed in an improving book. He seized a chair hurriedly, drew it
close to her, and sat down.
"Miss Simpson," he said, in a voice broken by excitement, "may I ask you
a few questions in the strictest confidence?"
"Certainly, Mr Bloxam," said Lavinia with alacrity.
"Miss Simpson, did you notice anything remarkable in the behaviour of
Miss Mason on the voyage?"
"Well, Mr Bloxam," said Lavinia, with an appearance of reluctance, "I
should not have said anything about it if you had not asked me the
question; but I certainly did notice conduct on Miss Mason's part which
I very much disapproved of."