Towards noon of the day on which the council held their session, a
troop of maidens was seen issuing from the chapel. Their number might
have been eight or ten. The orderly step with which they departed from
the door was exchanged for a playful haste in grouping together when
they got beyond the immediate precincts of the place of worship. Their
buoyant carriage and lively gesticulations betokened the elasticity of
health which was still more unequivocally shown in their ruddy
complexions and well rounded forms.
Their path lay across the grassy plain towards the town, and passed
immediately within the space embowered by an ancient, spreading poplar,
scarce a hundred paces in front of the chapel. When the bevy reached
this spot, they made a halt and gathered around one of their number,
who seemed to be the object of a mirthful and rather tumultuary
importunity. The individual thus beset was Blanche Warden. Together
with a few elderly dames, who were at this moment standing at the door
of the chapel in parley with father Pierre, this troop had constituted
the whole congregation who had that morning attended the service of the
festival of St. Bridget.
"Holy mother, how I am set upon!" exclaimed Blanche, as, half smiling
and half earnest, she turned her back against the trunk of the tree.
"Have I not said I could not? Why should my birth-day be so remembered
that all the town must be talking about it?"
"You did promise," said one of the party, "or at least, Mistress Alice
promised for you, full six months ago, that when you came to eighteen
we should have a merry-making at the Rose Croft."
"It would not be seemly--I should be thought bold," replied the maiden,
"to be turning my birth-day into a feast. Indeed, I must not and
cannot, playmates."
"There is no must not nor cannot in our books, Blanche Warden,"
exclaimed another, "but simply we will. There is troth plighted for it,
and that's enough for us. So we hold to that, good Blanche."
"Yes, good Blanche! gentle Blanche! sweetheart, we hold to that!" cried
the whole party, in a clamorous onset.
"Truly, Grace Blackiston, you will have father Pierre checking us for
noisy behaviour," said the maiden. "You see that he is now looking
towards us. It is a pretty matter to make such a coil about! I marvel,
has no one ever been eighteen before!"
"This day se'nnight," replied the arch girl to whom this reprimand was
addressed, "will be the first day, Blanche Warden, the Rose of St.
Mary's has ever seen eighteen; and it will be the last I trow: and what
comes and goes but once in the wide world should be accounted a rare
thing, and rarities should be noticed, sweetheart."
"If I was coming eighteen," said a damsel who scarce reached as high as
Blanche's shoulder, "and had as pretty a house for a dance as the Rose
Croft, there should be no lack of sport amongst the towns-people."
"It is easy to talk on a two year's venture, little Madge," replied
Blanche; "for that is far enough off to allow space for boasting. But
gently, dear playmates! do not clamour so loud. I would do your bidding
with good heart if I thought it would not be called something froward
in me to be noising my age abroad, as if it was my lady herself."
"We will advise with father Pierre and Lady Maria," responded Grace
Blackiston; "they are coming this way."
At this moment the reverend priest, and the ladies with whom he had
been in conversation, approached. The sister of the Proprietary was
distinguished as well by her short stature and neat attire, as by her
little Indian attendant, who followed bearing the lady's missal. The
tall figure of father Pierre, arrayed in his black tunic and belt,
towered above his female companions. He bore his square bonnet of black
cloth in his hand, disclosing a small silk cap closely fitted to his
crown, fringed around with the silver locks which, separating on his
brow, gave the grace of age to a countenance full of benignity.
The presence of the churchman subdued the eager gaiety of the crowd,
and two or three of the maidens ran up to him with an affectionate
familiarity to make him acquainted with the subject of their
contention.
"Father," said Grace Blackiston, "we have a complaint to lodge against
Mistress Blanche for a promise-breaker. You must counsel her, father,
to her duty."
"Ah, my child! pretty Blanche!" exclaimed the priest, with the alacrity
of his native French temper, as he took the assailed damsel by the
hand, "what have they to say against you? I will be your friend as well
as your judge."
"The maidens, father," replied Blanche, "have taken leave of their
wits, and have beset me like mad-caps to give them a dance at the Rose
Croft on my birth-day. And I have stood on my refusal, father Pierre,
as for a matter that would bring me into censure for pertness--as I am
sure you will say it would--with worshipful people, that a damsel who
should be modest in her behaviour, should so thrust herself forward to
be observed."
"And we do not heed that, father Pierre," interrupted Grace Blackiston,
who assumed to be the spokeswoman of the party, "holding it a scruple
more nice than wise. Blanche has a trick of standing back more than a
maiden needs. And, besides, we say that Mistress Alice is bound by
pledge of word, and partly Blanche, too--for she stood by and said
never a syllable against it--that we should have good cheer and dancing
on that day at the Rose Croft. It is the feast of the blessed virgin,
Terese, and we would fain persuade Blanche that the festival should be
kept for the sake of her birth-day saint."
"My children," said the priest, who during this debate stood in the
midst of the blooming troop, casting his glances from one to another
with the pleased expression of an interested partaker of their mirth,
and at the same time endeavouring to assume a countenance of mock
gravity, "we will consider this matter with impartial justice. And,
first, we will hear all that Mistress Blanche has to say. It is a
profound subject. Do you admit the promise, my child?"
"I do not deny, father Pierre, that last Easter, when we met and danced
at Grace Blackiston's, my sister Alice did make some promise, and I
said nothing against it. But it was an idle speech of sister Alice,
which I thought no more of till now; and now should not have remembered
it if these wild mates of mine had not sung it in my ear with such
clamour as must have made you think we had all gone mad."
"It is honestly confessed," said father Pierre; "and though I heard the
outcry all the way to the church door, yet I did not deem the damsels
absolutely mad, as you supposed. I am an old man, my child, and I have
been taught by my experience, in what key seven, eight, or nine young
girls will make known their desires when they are together: and, truly,
it is their nature to speak all at the same time. They speak more than
they listen--ha, ha! But we shall be mistaken if we conclude they are
mad."
"Blanche, love," interposed the Lady Maria, "you have scarce given a
good reason for gainsaying the wish of the damsels. Have a care, or you
may find me a mutineer on this question."
"That's a rare lady--a kind lady!" shouted several. "Now, Blanche, you
have no word of denial left."
"I am at mercy," said the maiden, "if my good mistress, the Lady Maria,
is not content. Whatever my sister Alice and my father shall approve,
and you, dear lady, shall say befits my state, that will I undertake
right cheerfully. I would pleasure the whole town in the way of
merry-making, if I may do so without seeming to set too much account
upon so small a matter as my birth-day. I but feared it would not be
well taken in one so young as I am."
"I will answer it to the town," said the Lady Maria. "It shall be done
as upon my motion; and Mistress Alice shall take order in the matter as
a thing wherein you had no part. Will that content you, Blanche?"
"I will be ruled in all things by my dear lady," replied the maiden.
"You will speak to my father?"
"It shall be my special duty to look after it forthwith," responded the
lady.
"Luckily," said father Pierre, laughing, "this great business is
settled without the aid of the church. Well, I have lost some of my
consequence in the winding up, and the Lady Maria is in the ascendant.
I will have my revenge by being as merry as any of you at the feast.
So, good day, mes enfants!"
With this sally, the priest left the company and retired to his
dwelling hard by the chapel. The Lady Maria and her elderly companions
moved towards the town, whilst the troop of damsels with increased
volubility pursued their noisy triumph, and with rapid steps hastened
to their several homes.