And at last they find out, to their greatest surprise,
That't is easier far to be “merry than wise.”
Bell: Images.
“Here is Mr. Cashel; here he is!” exclaimed a number of voices, as
Roland, with a heart full of indignant anger, ascended the terrace upon
which the great drawing-room opened, and at every window of which stood
groups of his gay company. Cashel looked up, and beheld the crowd of
pleased faces wreathed into smiles of gracious welcome, and then he
suddenly remembered that it was _he_ who had invited all that brilliant
assemblage; that, for _him_, all those winning graces were assumed;
and that _his_ gloomy thoughts, and gloomier looks, were but a sorry
reception to offer them.
With a bold effort, then, to shake off the load that oppressed him,
he approached one of the windows, where Mrs. Kennyfeck and her two
daughters were standing, with a considerable sprinkling of young
dragoons around them.
“We are not to let you in, Mr. Cashel,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, from
within. “There has been a vote of the House against your admission.”
“Not, surely, to condemn me unheard,” said Roland; “I might even say,
unaccused.”
“How so?” cried Mrs. Kennyfeck. “Is not your present position your
accusation? Why are you there, while we are here?”
“I went out for a walk, and lost myself in the woods.”
“What does he say, my dear?” said Aunt Fanny, fearful of losing a word
of the dialogue.
“That he lost himself, madam,” said one of the dragoons, dryly.
“So, indeed, we heard, sir,” said the maiden lady, piteously; “but I may
say I foresaw it all.”
“You are an old fool, and, worse still, every one sees it,” whispered
Mrs. Kennyfeck, in an accent that there was no mistaking, although only
a whisper.
“We considered that you had abdicated, Mr. Cashel,” said Mrs. White,
who, having in vain waited for Roland to approach the window she
occupied, was fain at last to join the others, “and we were debating on
what form of Government to adopt,--a Presidency, with Mr. Linton--”
“I see you are no legitimist,” slyly remarked Miss Kenny-feck. But the
other went on,--
“Or an open Democracy.”
“I 'm for that,” said a jolly-looking cavalry captain. “Pray, Miss
Olivia Kennyfeck, vote for it too. I should like nothing so much as a
little fraternizing.”
“I have a better suggestion than either,” said Roland, gayly; “but you
must admit me ere I make it.”
“A device of the enemy,” called out Mrs. White; “he wants to secure his
own return to power.”
“Nay, on honor,” said he, solemnly; “I shall descend to the rank of the
humblest citizen, if my advice be acceded to,--to the humblest subject
of the realm.”
“Ye maunna open the window. Leddy Janet has the rheumatics a' dandering
aboot her back a' the morning,” said Sir Andrew, approaching the group;
and then, turning to Cashel, said, “Glad to see ye, sir; very glad
indeed; though, like Prince Charlie, you're on the wrang side o' the
wa'.”
“Dear me!” sighed Meek, lifting his eyes from the newspaper, and
assuming that softly compassionate tone in which he always delivered the
most commonplace sentiments, “how shocking, to keep you out of your
own house, and the air quite damp! Do pray be careful, and change your
clothes before you come in here.” Then he finished in a whisper to Lady
Janet, “One never gets through a country visit without a cold.”
“Upon my word, I'll let him in,” said Aunt Fanny, with a native richness
of accent that made her fair nieces blush.
“At last!” said Cashel, as he entered the room, and proceeded to
salute the company, with many of whom he had but the very slightest
acquaintance,--of some he did not even remember the names.
The genial warmth of his character soon compelled him to feel heartily
what he had begun by feigning, and he bade them welcome with a
cordiality that spread its kindly influence over all.
“I see,” said he, after some minutes, “Lady Kilgoff has not joined us;
but her fatigue has been very great.”
“They say my Lord 's clean daft,” said Sir Andrew.
“Oh, no, Sir Andrew,” rejoined Roland; “our misfortune has shaken his
nerves a good deal, but a few days' rest and quiet will restore him.”
“He was na ower wise at the best, puir man,” sighed the veteran, as he
moved away.
“Her Ladyship was quite a heroine,--is n't that so?” said Lady Janet,
tartly.
“She held the rudder, or did something with the compass, I heard,”
simpered a young lady in long flaxen ringlets.
Cashel smiled, but made no answer.
“Oh, dear,” sighed Meek, “and there was a dog that swam--or was it you
that swam ashore with a rope in your mouth?”
“I grieve to say, neither man nor dog performed the achievement.”
“And it would appear that the horrid wretch--what's his name?” asked
Mrs. White of her friend Howie.
“Whose name, madam?”
“The man--the dreadful man, who planned it all. Sick--Sickamore--no, not
Sickamore--”
“Sickleton, perhaps,” said Cashel, strangely puzzled to make out what
was coming.
“Yes, Sickleton had actually done the very same thing twice before, just
to get possession of the rich plate and all the things on board.”
“This is too bad,” cried Cashel, indignantly; “really, madam, you must
pardon my warmth, if it even verges on rudeness; but the gentleman whose
name you have associated with such iniquitous suspicions saved all our
lives.”
“That's what I like in him better than all,” whispered Aunt Fanny to
Olivia; “he stands by his friends like a trump.”
“You have compelled me,” resumed Cashel, “to speak of what really I had
much rather forget; but I shall insist upon your patience now for a
few minutes, simply to rectify any error which may prevail upon this
affair.”
With this brief prelude, Cashel commenced a narrative of the voyage
from the evening of the departure from Kingstown to the moment of the
vessel's sinking off the south coast.
If most of his auditors only listened as to an interesting anecdote, to
others the story had a deeper meaning. The Kennyfecks were longing to
learn how the excursion originated, and whether Lady Kilgoff's presence
had been a pre-arranged plan, or a mere accidental occurrence.
“All's not lost yet, Livy,” whispered Miss Kennyfeck in her sister's
ear. “I give you joy.” While a significant nod from Aunt Fanny seemed to
divine the sentiment and agree with it.
“And I suppose ye had na the vessel insured?” said Sir Andrew, at the
close of the narrative; “what a sair thing to think o'!”
“Oh, dear, yes, to be sure!” ejaculated Meek, piteously; “and the cold,
and the wetting, and the rest of it! for of course you must have met few
comforts in that miserable fishing-hut.”
“How picturesque it must have been,” interposed Mrs. White; “and what a
pity you had no means of having a drawing made of it. The scene at the
moment of the yacht striking; the despair-struck seamen--”
“Pardon me, madam, for destroying even a particle of so ingenious a
fancy; but the men evinced nothing of the kind,--they behaved well, and
with the calmest steadiness.”
“It is scarcely too late yet,” resumed the lady, unabashed; “if you
would just describe it all carefully to Mr. Howie, he could made a
sketch in oils one would swear was taken on the spot.”
“Quite impossible,--out of the question,” said Howie, who was always
ashamed at the absurdities which compromised himself, although keenly
alive to those which involved his neighbors.
“We have heard much of Lady Kilgoff's courage and presence of mind,”
said Mrs. Kennyfeck, returning to a theme by which she calculated on
exploring into Cashel's sentiments towards that lady. “Were they indeed
so conspicuous?”
“Can you doubt it, madam?” said Lady Janet, tartly; “she gave the most
unequivocal proof of both,--she remembered her husband!”
The tartness of this impertinent speech was infinitely increased by
the voice and manner of the speaker, and a half-suppressed titter ran
through the room, Cashel alone, of all, feeling annoyed and angry. Aunt
Fanny, always less occupied with herself than her neighbors, quickly saw
his irritation, and resolved to change a topic which more than once had
verged on danger.
“And now, Mr. Cashel,” said she, “let us not forget the pledge on which
we admitted you.”
“Quite right,” exclaimed Roland; “I promised a suggestion: here it is--”
“Pardon me for interrupting,” said Miss Kennyfeck; “but in what capacity
do you make this suggestion? Are you still king, or have you abdicated?”
“Abdicated in all form,” replied Roland, bowing with well-assumed
humility; “as simple citizen, I propose that we elect a 'Queen,' to rule
despotically in all things,--uncontrolled and irresponsible.”
“Oh, delightful! admirable!” exclaimed a number of voices, among which
all the men and the younger ladies might be heard; Lady Janet and Mrs.
Kennyfeck, and a few others “of the senior service,” as Mr. Linton
would have called them, seeming to canvass the motion with more cautious
reserve.
“As it is to be an elective monarchy, sir,” said Lady Janet, with a
shrewd glance over all the possible candidates, “how do you propose the
choice is to be made?”
“That is to be for after consideration,” replied Roland; “we may have
universal suffrage and the ballot.”
“No, no, by Jove!” exclaimed Sir Harvey Upton; “we must not enter upon
our new reign by a rebellion. Let only the men vote.”
“How gallant!” said Miss Kennyfeck, sneeringly; while a chorus of “How
unfair!” “How ungenerous!” went through the room.
“What say ye to the plan they hae wi' the Pope?” said Sir Andrew,
grinning maliciously: “tak' the auldest o' the company.”
This suggestion caused a laugh, in which certain parties did not join
over-heartily. Just at this moment the door opened, and Lord Kilgoff,
leaning on the arm of two servants, entered. He was deathly pale, and
seemed several years older; but his face had acquired something of its
wonted expression, and it was with a sad but courteous smile he returned
the salutations of the company.
“Glad to see you amongst us, my Lord,” said Cashel, as he placed an
arm-chair, and assisted the old man to his seat. “I have just been
telling my friends that our country air and quiet will speedily restore
you.”
“Thank you very much, sir,” said he, taking Cashel's hand. “We are both
greatly indebted to your kindness, nor can we indeed ever hope to repay
it.”
“Make him a receiver on the estate, then,” whispered Lady Janet in Miss
Kennyfeck's ear, “and he'll soon pay himself.”
“Tell my Lord about our newly intended government, Mr. Cashel,” said
Mrs. Kennyfeck; “I'm sure it will amuse him.” And Cashel, more in
obedience to the request than from any conviction of its prudence,
proceeded to obey. One word only, however, seemed to fix itself on the
old man's memory.
“Queen! queen!” repeated he several times to himself. “Oh, indeed! You
expect her Majesty will honor you with a visit, sir?”
Cashel endeavored to correct the misconception, but to no purpose; the
feeble intelligence could not relinquish its grasp so easily, and he
went on in a low muttering tone,--
“Lady Kilgoff is the only peeress here, sir, remember that; you should
speak to her about it, Mr. Cashel.”
“I hope we are soon to have the pleasure of seeing Lady Kilgoff, my
Lord,” whispered Cashel, half to concur with, half to turn the course of
conversation.
“She will be here presently,” said he, somewhat stiffly, as if some
unpleasant recollection was passing through his mind; and Cashel
turned away to speak with the others, who eagerly awaited to resume the
interrupted conversation.
“Your plan, Mr. Cashel; we are dying to hear it,” cried one.
“Oh, by all means; how are we to elect the queen?” said another.
“What say you to a lottery,” said he, “or something equally the upshot
of chance? For instance, let the first lady who enters the room be
queen.”
“Very good indeed,” said Lady Janet, aloud; then added, in a whisper,
“I see that old Mrs. Malone with her husband toddling up the avenue this
instant.”
“Olivia, my love,” whispered Mrs. Kennyfeck to her daughter, “fetch me
my work here, and don't be a moment away, child. He's so amusing!” And
the young lady glided unseen from the room at her mamma's bidding. After
a short but animated conversation, it was decided that this mode of
choice should be adopted; and now all stood in anxious expectancy to see
who first should enter. At last footsteps were heard approaching, and
the interest rose higher.
“Leddy Janet was right,” said Sir Andrew, with a grin; “ye 'll hae Mrs.
Malone for your sovereign,--I ken her step weel.”
“By Jove!” cried Upton, “I 'll dispute the succession; that would never
do.”
“That's-a lighter tread and a faster,” said Cashel, listening.
“There are two coming,” cried Mrs. White; “I hear voices: how are we
then to decide?”
There was no time to canvass this knotty point, when a hand was heard
upon the door-handle; it turned, and just as the door moved, a sound of
feet upon the terrace without,--running at full speed,--turned every eye
in that direction, and the same instant Miss Meek sprang into the room
through the window, while Lord Charles and Linton hurried after her, at
the same moment that Lady Kilgoff, followed by Olivia Kennyfeck, entered
by the door.
Miss Meek's appearance might have astonished the company, had even
her _entrée_ been more ceremonious; for she was without hat, her
hair falling in long, dishevelled masses about her shoulders, and her
riding-habit, torn and ragged, was carried over one arm, with a freedom
much more in accordance with speed than grace.
“Beat by two lengths, Charley,” cried she, in a joyous, merry laugh;
“beat in a canter,--Mr. Linton, nowhere.”
“Oh, dear me, what is all this, Jemima love?” softly sighed her bland
papa; “you've not been riding, I hope?”
“Schooling a bit with Charley, pa, and as we left the nags at the
stable, they challenged me to a race home; I don't think they'll do it
again. Do look how they're blown.”
Some of the company laughed good-humoredly at the girlish gayety of the
scene. Others, among whom, it is sad to say, were many of the younger
ladies, made significant signs of being shocked by the indecorum, and
gathered in groups to canvass the papa's indifference and the daughter's
indelicacy. Meanwhile Cashel had been completely occupied with Lady
Kilgoff, making the usual inquiries regarding fatigue and rest, but in a
manner that bespoke all his interest in a favored guest.
“Are you aware to what high destiny the Fates have called you?” said he,
laughing. “Some attain fortune by being first to seek her,--_you_, on
the contrary, win by dallying. We had decided, a few moments before
you came in, that the first lady who entered should be the Queen of our
party,--this lot is yours.”
“I beg to correct you, Mr. Cashel,” cried Lady Janet, smartly; “Miss
Meek entered before her Ladyship.”
“Oh, yes!” “Certainly!” “Without a doubt!” resounded from the whole
company, who were not sorry to confer their suffrages on the madcap girl
rather than the fashionable beauty.
“How distressing!” sighed Mr. Meek. “Oh, dear! I hope this is not
so,--nay, I 'm sure, Jemima, it cannot be the case.”
“You're thinking of George Colman, Meek,--I see you are,” cried Linton.
[Illustration: 026]
“No, indeed; no, upon my honor. What was it about Colman?”
“The story is everybody's story. The Prince insisted once that George
was his senior, and George only corrected himself of his mistake by
saying that 'he could not possibly have had the rudeness to enter the
world before his Royal Highness.'”
“Ah! yes--very true--so it was,” sighed Meek, who-affected not to
perceive the covert sneer at his assumed courtesy.
While, therefore, the party gathered around Cashel, with eager assurance
of Miss Meek's precedence, Lady Kilgoff, rising, crossed the room
to where that young lady was standing, and gracefully arranging her
loose-flowing ringlets into a knot at the back of the head, fastened
them by a splendid comb which she took from her own, and whose top was
fashioned into a handsome coronet of gold, saying, “The question of
legitimacy is solved forever: the Pretender yields her crown to the true
Sovereign.”
The gracefulness and tact of this sudden movement called forth the
warmest acknowledgments of all save Lady Janet, who whispered to Miss
Kenny feck, “It is pretty clear, I fancy, who is to pay for the crown
jewels!”
“Am I really the Queen?” cried the young girl, half wild with delight.
“Most assuredly, madam,” said Linton, kissing her hand in deep
reverence. “I beg to be first to tender my homage.”
“That 's so like him!” cried she, laughing; “but you shall be no officer
of mine. Where 's Charley? I want to make him Master of the Buckhounds,
if there be buckhounds.”
“Will you not appoint your ladies first, madam?” said Lady Janet; “or,
are your preferences for the other sex to leave us quite forgotten?”
“Be all of you everything you please,” rejoined the childish, merry
voice, “with Charley Frobisher for Master of the Horse.”
“Linton for Master of the Revels,” said some one.
“Agreed,” said she.
“Mr. Cashel had better be First Lord of the Treasury, I suspect,” said
Lady Janet, snappishly, “if the Administration is to last.”
“And if ye a'ways wear drapery o' this fashion,” said Sir Andrew, taking
up the torn fragment of her riding-habit as he spoke, “I maun say that
the Mistress of the Robes will na be a sinecure.”
“Will any one tell me what are my powers?” said she, sitting down with
an air of mock dignity.
“Will any one dare to say what they are not?” responded Cashel.
“Have I unlimited command in everything?”
“In everything, madam; I and all mine are at your orders.”
“That's what the farce will end in,” whispered Lady Janet to Mrs.
Kennyfeck.
“Well, then, to begin. The court will dine with us today--to-morrow we
will hunt in our royal forest; our private band--Have we a private band,
Mr. Linton?”
“Certainly, your Majesty,--so private as to be almost undiscoverable.”
“Then our private band will perform in the evening; perhaps, too, we
shall dance. Remember, my Lords and Ladies, we are a young sovereign who
loves pleasure, and that a sad face or a mournful one is treason to our
person. Come forward now, and let us name our household.”
While the group gathered around the wild and high-spirited girl, in
whose merry mood even the least-disposed were drawn to participate,
Linton approached Lady Kilgoff, who had seated herself near a window,
and was affecting to arrange a frame of embroidery, on which she rarely
bestowed a moment's labor.