I am not yet of Earl Percy’s mind.
--King Henry IV
‘Violet,’ said Theodora, the next morning, ‘I want to know if Percy said
more to Arthur than to us?’
She spoke with deepening colour, and Violet’s glowed still more, as
she answered: ‘Arthur asked him, and he said he would not BEGIN an
acquaintance, but that there was no occasion to break off the ordinary
civilities of society. He accused her of no more than levity. Yes, those
were Arthur’s words.’
‘I am going to get to the bottom of it,’ said Theodora; ‘and give
Georgina a thorough lecture.’
She departed; and Violet sat down to her letters, with little Johnnie
crawling at her feet; but in a few minutes she was interrupted by the
entrance of Mr. Fotheringham, asking for Theodora.
‘She is gone out. She could not rest without an explanation from Mrs.
Finch.’
‘A proper farrago she will hear,’ said Percy. ‘I found I could settle to
nothing, so I thought it best to come and have it out.’
‘I hope she will soon come in.’
‘Don’t let me interrupt you. Go on with your letters.--Ha! little
master!’
In his present temper, play with the baby was the most congenial
occupation, and he made the little fellow very happy till he was carried
off for his midday sleep. Then he tried to read, but seemed so uneasy,
that Violet wondered if it would be intermeddling to hint at Theodora’s
real views. At last, as if he could bear it no longer, he abruptly said,
‘Mrs. Martindale, do you know anything of these people?’
‘Very little,’ she answered. ‘Theodora was telling me about them
yesterday, before you came. I believe she only likes them for old
acquaintance’ sake.’
‘Is it true that she used to go out with them last year?’
‘I believe that she did sometimes.’
‘At least, I hope that will not happen again.’
‘No, I should not think it would. I am sure Theodora does not entirely
approve of Mrs. Finch.’
‘She defended her through thick and thin.’
‘You shocked her with the suddenness of what you said. She cannot forget
the having been happy together as children; but she thinks as you do,
and disliked the marriage very much. Before you came, she had been
lamenting over Mrs. Finch.’
‘Then, it was pure perverseness!’
‘If I said so, I wonder what you would answer,’ said Violet, with a
bright, arch look.
‘I should hear reason,’ said Percy, roughly, as if to repel the
sweetness; yet it had a mollifying effect, and he presently spoke with
less irritation and more regret.
‘She suspects no evil, and cannot understand any imputation on her
friend. She fancies I speak from report, but I have known this fellow,
Mark, all my life. His mother is a sister of my Aunt Fotheringham. They
wanted me to hunt up an appointment to get him out of the young lady’s
way.’
‘Before her marriage?’
‘Ay. When I was last in England, there was a great to-do at the
discovery of an engagement between this youth and Miss Georgina. I
suppose, considering her bringing-up, she was not much to be blamed. I
remember my aunt thought the poor girl harshly dealt with.’
‘O, that must have been the cause of the nervous fever Theodora
mentioned. She said she knew no particulars.’
‘She has not been openly dealt with,’ said Percy. ‘They do not dare to
let her see their doings.’
‘So the poor thing was tormented into this marriage?’
‘No torment needed. The elder sister did try to warn her that it could
not turn out well. I should think the old rogue had found his punishment
for his extortions. Fine stories I could tell you of him in South
America. Now, am I not justified in keeping clear of them? Let Theodora
say what she will, it does not make it right for me to put myself in the
way of those great extravagant dinners and parties of theirs, where they
want me for nothing but a show-off.’
‘I am sure Theodora will think with you, when she is cooler, and not
taken by surprise.’
The clock struck.
‘There, I have an appointment!’
‘I wish you could wait for luncheon. She must come then.’
‘What are you going to do this evening?’
‘I am sorry to say that we dine out; but to-morrow is Sunday, and you
will be sure to find us at home.’
He went, and one o’clock came, but no Theodora. Violet had waited ten
minutes for luncheon before she returned.
‘I did not know how late it was,’ said she. ‘I wish you had begun
without me.’
Then, throwing her bonnet into a chair, and cutting some cake, she
proceeded: ‘Such hours as they keep! No one but Jane was up when I came,
so I went to her room, and told her I would hear the rights of it.’
‘Were you satisfied?’
‘Georgina has been foolish and unguarded, and the world is very
ill-natured. I hate it altogether, from beginning to end,’ said
Theodora, with an impatient gesture. ‘Most decidedly,’ she added,
‘Georgina never ought to have married. I forced it from Jane that
she had never cared for any one but this Mark. The discovery of his
extravagance and misconduct was the real overthrow of my poor Georgina.
It was that which brought on her illness; the family were very unkind;
and at last weakness and persecution broke down her spirit, and she was
ready to do anything to escape.’
‘Poor thing! poor thing!’
‘She had nothing to fall back upon. Oh, if I had but been there! If I
had but known it at the time!’
‘Well, and now?’ said Violet, anxiously.
‘The having Mr. Gardner there now? Really, I don’t think she deserves
all this abuse. The other matter is entirely passed away. Mr. Finch
likes him, and they understand each other fully. Coming to them detaches
him from his former habits, and gives him the best chance. His mother is
so relieved to know he is with them. If Jane saw anything in the least
amiss, she says she would be the first to take alarm, and I do trust her
for that, for the sake of appearances.’
‘I suppose it is a question of appearances,’ said Violet, with the
diffident blushes of her eighteen years.
‘Is she to throw away the hope of rescuing her cousin, to save herself
from spiteful tongues?’ cried Theodora. ‘Not that I suppose Lady
Fotheringham means to be spiteful, but Percy hears it all from her, and
we know very well that good ladies in the country have a tendency
to think every one good-for-nothing that lives in London or Paris,
especially their relations. That is all nonsense. If Percy goes by
gossip, I don’t. I go by my own observation, and I see there is nothing
at which to take exception. I watched her and Mr. Gardner together, and
I do declare there was nothing but ease and frankness. I am sure he was
more inclined to pay that sort of attention to me. He really is very
entertaining. I must tell you some of his stories.’
‘Percy has been here,’ said Violet.
‘Has he?’
‘He waited till twelve, and then was obliged to go.’
Theodora kept silence for some minutes, then said: ‘If he thinks to make
me give my friends up, he is much mistaken! You know I had written to
Georgina last night. Well, she thought I had come to be congratulated;
and if you had but seen the greeting--the whole manner--when she met me!
Oh! you would know how impossible it is not to feel for her, with all
one’s heart!’
‘Yes, yes. I suppose you could not say anything about this to her. No,
of course not.’
‘Not of course at all, if I could have had her alone, but Jane was there
all the time. It was a pleasure to see the contrast between her manner
and Jane’s. There was soul in her, real hopes I should be happy, while
Jane seemed only to think it tolerable, because I might end in being
an ambassadress. I will see her again before the party, and draw my own
conclusions.’
‘Does she know that Percy will not go?’
‘I know no such thing.’
She was too proud to ask what had passed in Violet’s interview with him,
and indeed was ready to take fire at the idea of their affairs having
been discussed with her.
She strove to believe herself the offended party, but her conscience was
not easily appeased, though she tried to set it at rest by affectionate
care of Violet, and was much gratified by Arthur’s stopping her after
Violet had gone up-stairs at night, to beg her to stay, while he was at
Windsor with his regiment.
‘Thank you, for making me of use,’ she said.
‘I shall come backwards and forwards continually,’ said Arthur, ‘but she
must not be alone; I shall be very glad if you can stay, or I shall be
driven to have one of the Mosses here.’
‘Oh, no, no! I shall be most happy to stay. I will take every care of
her.’
‘Thank you, Theodora; good night. You have got to know her better now,’
he continued, lingering as on that first night to gain some word of
commendation of her.
‘Much better,’ said Theodora cordially. ‘One cannot help growing fond of
her--so gentle and engaging.’
She was pleased with his satisfaction; and while she owned Violet’s
sincerity and sweetness, considered her one of those soft dependent
beings formed to call forth tenderness from strong and superior spirits,
and gloried in being necessary to her: it almost restored her balance of
complacency.
On Sunday afternoon Violet stayed at home with little Johnnie, and the
vacant place in the seat at church was filled by Mr. Fotheringham. Many
thoughts floated through Theodora’s mind; but whether the better or the
worse would gain the advantage seemed rather to depend on chance than on
herself. Perhaps she was not yet conscious what were her besetting sins,
and thus the conflict was merely a struggle between her feelings for her
friend and for her lover.
Arthur walked home with an acquaintance; but Theodora turned from Percy,
and threw herself into eager conversation with Lady Elizabeth.
On entering the house, as Violet was not in the drawing-room, Theodora
was going up-stairs, when Percy said, in a tone of authority, ‘How long
do you intend to go on in this way!’
‘In what way?’
‘Do you wish to keep all our disputes as a spectacle for Arthur’s
edification?’
Colouring with shame and displeasure, she sat down with a sort of ‘I
am ready’ air, and took off her walking things, laying them down
deliberately, and waiting in complete silence. Did she wish to embarrass
him, or did she await his first word to decide what line she should
take?
‘Theodora,’ he said at length, ‘when I spoke last night, I did not know
how early your acquaintance with this lady had begun, or I should have
shown more regard to the feeling that arises between old companions. I
am afraid I gave you some unnecessary pain.’
This was unexpected; and she could not at once harden herself in
displeasure, so that though she spoke not, her countenance was
relenting.
‘Did Mrs. Martindale mention what I told her yesterday!’
‘No; she only said you had been here while I was gone to satisfy my
mind.’
‘And did you?’
‘I should never have defended Georgina’s marriage if I had known the
whole; but the rest of what you have heard is slander.’
‘That is what I came to explain;’ and Percy repeated the history he
had before given to Violet, adding a warning of the same kind as John’s
against placing Arthur in Mr. Gardner’s way.
‘The point is,’ said Theodora, ‘what construction is to be placed on the
present state of things? You and Lady Fotheringham, who have not
seen them, take one view; I, who do see them, and who know Georgina
intimately, take another, in which I agree with her husband and with the
elder sister, who lives with her.’
‘Intimately! When you had no idea of this first affair!’
‘Such follies are not to be published.’
‘You WILL defend them!’ cried Percy, impatiently.
‘Am I to sit quiet when I hear injustice done to my oldest friend?’
‘I wish that unhappy friendship had never begun!’
A silence broken by her coolly saying, ‘Well, what is to come of all
this?’
Percy walked about the room and said, ‘What do you mean?’
With a provoking air of meekness she said, ‘I only want to know what you
expect of me.’
Excessively annoyed, he sharply answered, ‘To be a reasonable woman.’
‘Well?’ said Theodora, with the same submissive voice. He had recovered
himself, and with no further show of temper, he sat down by her, saying,
‘This is folly. We had better say what we mean. You feel strongly with
regard to your old playfellow; I cannot think well of her; but while
this is matter of opinion, it is childish to dispute. Time will show
which is the correct view--I shall be glad if it is yours. The elder
sister is a steady amiable person, whom my aunt likes, and that is in
their favour. I do not wish you to break with an old friend while we
know of no positive charge against her, though I should think there
could be little to attract you. For me it is another matter, and I will
not.’
‘You will not adopt my friends?’
I will not be talked into it.’
‘I do not understand your principle,’ said Theodora, but without
asperity. ‘Why do you decline an acquaintance to which you do not object
for me?’
‘The beginning has been made in your case, and I know it is old
affection, not present approval. You can’t be hurt by one like her. But
for my part, knowing what I do of them, I will enter on no acquaintance;
it is a line of which I have resolved to keep clear. She would think
herself patronizing a literary man.’
‘Oh! you could not submit to that!’ cried Theodora--‘never. Stay away, I
beg of you.’
‘It is for no such nonsense,’ said Percy. ‘But thinking of them as I
do, I cannot receive from them the favours which rich folks consider
invitations to poor ones. My connection with them makes it all the more
undesirable. I totally disapprove their style of conduct, and will not
seem to sanction it by beginning an acquaintance, or appearing at their
grand dinners and parties. If I had known them before, the case might be
different.’
‘I will say no more. You are quite right,’ said Theodora, well able to
appreciate the manliness of his independence.
She thought over several times the way of communicating to Mrs. Finch,
Percy’s rejection of her invitation, and made some attempts at seeing
her, but without success, until the night of the party. Violet had an
undefined dread of it, and was especially glad that her husband was able
to go with them. It was one of the occasions when he was most solicitous
about her appearance; and he was well pleased, for she was in very good
looks, and prettily dressed with some Irish lace, that to Theodora’s
amusement she had taken off Miss Marstone’s hands; and with his
beautiful wife and distinguished-looking sister, he had his wish of
displaying woman as she should be.
The room was full, but Violet saw few acquaintance; as Mrs. Finch, with
much display of streamer, flounce, jewellery, and shoulders, came to
meet them with vehement welcome, and quite oppressed Violet with her
attention in finding a seat for her on the sofa.
With a nod and look of gay displeasure at Theodora, she said, ‘So, you
have brought me no Crusader, you naughty girl! Where’s your Red Cross
Knight?’
‘He would not come,’ said Theodora, gravely.
‘You dare own it! Where’s your power? Ah! you will say it was idleness.’
‘I will tell you another time,’ said Theodora, blushing inconveniently,
and Violet, as she felt her cheeks responding, fancied Mrs. Finch must
know why.
‘You won’t confess! No, you never tried. If you had once set your mind
on it, you would have accomplished it. I always cite Theodora Martindale
as the person who cannot be resisted.’
‘You see your mistake,’ returned Theodora. A gentleman here greeted her,
then claimed Mrs. Finch’s attention, and evidently by his desire, she
turned to Violet, and presented him as her cousin, Mr. Gardner, an old
friend of Captain Martindale.
Violet acknowledged the courtesy, but it was in confusion and distress.
‘I am delighted to make your acquaintance,’ was his address. ‘Is Captain
Martindale here? I have not seen him for years.’
‘He is in the room,’ said Violet, looking round for him, hoping either
that he would come, or that Mr. Gardner would go in search of him, but
the conversation continued, though she answered without knowing what
she said, till at last he moved away to communicate to Mrs. Finch
that Arthur Martindale’s pretty wife had nothing but fine eyes and
complexion.
Theodora was satisfied to see a very slight recognition pass between
Mr. Gardner and her brother, who was intent on conducting to Violet
an officer newly returned from the West Indies, where he had met
John. After a pleasant conversation, the two gentlemen moved away, and
presently the place next to her was taken by Miss Gardner, with civil
inquiries for her little boy.
‘We are so vexed at not seeing Mr. Fotheringham! Georgina is furious. We
reckoned on him as the lion of the night.’
Violet had no answer to make, and Jane continued. ‘I have taken Theodora
to task. Fame makes men capricious, and he is very odd; but I tell her
she ought to have more influence, and I seriously think so. Do you not?’
‘I believe he convinced her,’ said Violet, wishing the next moment to
recall her words.
‘Indeed! I am curious.’
‘I believe he thinks it better--fashionable life--’ faltered Violet.
‘He might have made an exception in favour of such near connections!
Why, we shall be related ourselves, Mrs. Martindale. How charmed I shall
be.’
Violet turned a bracelet on her arm, and could make no response.
‘It is strange enough that we have never met Percival Fotheringham,’
said Miss Gardner. ‘He is an eccentric being, I hear, but our dear
Theodora has a spice of eccentricity herself. I hope it will be for the
best.’
‘He is an admirable person,’ said Violet.
‘I rejoice to hear it. I had some doubts. The dear girl is so generous,
of such peculiar decision, so likely to be dazzled by talent, and so
warmly attached to her eldest brother, that I almost feared it might not
have been well weighed. But you are satisfied?’
‘O, yes, entirely so.’
‘I am relieved to hear it. In confidence I may tell YOU, it is said in
our OWN family, that there is a rough overbearing temper about him. I
could not bear to think of dear Theodora’s high spirit being subjected
to anything of that kind.’
‘He is abrupt,’ said Violet, eagerly; ‘but I assure you the better he is
known, the more he is liked. My little boy is so fond of him.’
‘I am glad. No doubt you have every means of judging, but I own I was
surprised at such ready consent. You were behind the scenes, no doubt,
and can tell how that determined spirit carried the day.’
‘Lord Martindale gave his consent most readily and gladly,’ said
Violet; but Jane was only the more convinced that Mrs. Martindale was as
ignorant as ever of family secrets.
‘It was best to do so with a good grace; but I did think our dear
Theodora might have looked higher! Poor Lord St. Erme! He would
have been a more eligible choice. The family must have been much
disappointed, for she might have had him at her feet any day last
summer.’
‘I do not think he would have suited her.’
‘Well! perhaps not, but an easy gentle temper might. However, it cannot
be helped! Only the long engagement is unfortunate--very trying to both
parties. I have seen so few turn out well! Poor Pelham Fotheringham! It
is a pity he should stand between them and the baronetcy.’
‘Is he Sir Antony’s son?’
‘Yes; it is a sad affair. A fine tall youth, quite imbecile. He is his
poor mother’s darling, but no more fit to take care of himself than a
child of five years old. A most melancholy thing! Old Sir Antony ought
to set him aside, and let Percival enjoy the estate. Indeed, I should
think it very probable he would do so--it would be greatly for the
happiness of all parties.’
‘I think it would,’ said Violet.
‘Percival can do anything with the old people, and they will be so
delighted with the Martindale connection! Perhaps it is an understood
thing. Do you know whether it is?’
‘I should not think so. I never heard anything of it.’
‘Has Theodora ever been introduced to the uncle and aunt?’
‘Never.’
‘Good old folks, exceedingly primitive. Very kind too, and a fine
old-fashioned place; but, oh, so dull! All their ideas are of the
seventeenth century. It will be a severe ordeal for poor Theodora, but
if Lady Fotheringham, good old soul, is pleased with her, I shall expect
grand consequences.’
Violet was glad that Miss Gardner was asked to dance. Presently Arthur
returned to her side. ‘Tired, Violet?’ he asked. ‘Slow work, is not it?
They have a queer lot here. Scarcely a soul one ever saw before.’
‘I was thinking so. Are there not a great many foreigners? I saw some
immense moustaches.’
‘Ay. Percy would think himself back in Blue Beard’s country. There is
the King of the Clothes Brushes himself polking with Mrs. Finch. Can’t
you see?’
‘No! I wish I could.’
‘An economical fellow! Every man his own clothes brush--two expenses
saved at once, to say nothing of soap, an article that mayhap he does
not deal in.’
‘Oh! hush! you will make me laugh too much. Where ‘s Theodora?’
‘Dancing with Gardner. He seems inclined to make up to her, unless it is
a blind.’
‘He said he used to know you at school.’
‘Yes, scamp that he is. I had rather he had never turned up again. He
is not worth Theodora’s quarrelling about. I hear she is chattering away
like fun. Have you had any one to speak to?’
‘Miss Gardner came to me. She seemed to think Sir Antony might settle
his property on Percy instead of on his son. Do you think there is any
chance of it?’
‘I wish he would. He could not do a wiser thing. But of course it is
entailed--there’s always a provision of nature for starving the younger
branches. What does she say to Percy’s absence!’
‘I fancy she guesses the reason, but I don’t know.’
‘He is a lucky fellow, I know!’ said Arthur, ‘to be safe in his bed at
home! This evening is a bore, and I wish the whole set were further
off, instead of deluding Theodora! I’ll get her away when this dance is
over.’
‘Ha!’ cried Mrs. Finch, suddenly stopping in front of them, and
disengaging herself from her partner, as she breathlessly threw herself
down beside Violet. ‘So there’s Captain Martindale, after all! How
exemplary! And my poor Mrs. Martindale, that I told Jane and Mark to
take such care of, left deserted to her husband’s mercy!’
‘Suppose she wished for nothing better,’ said Arthur, good-humouredly.
‘I can’t allow such things. Such a monopoly of our Guardsmen after
two years’ marriage is beyond bearing! What would they say to you in
France?’
‘We don’t follow French fashions,’ said Arthur, his gay tone making his
earnest like jest. ‘I am going to take my ladies home. I shall see for
the carriage, Violet.’
‘Mrs. Martindale will learn my maxim--Never bring a husband to an
evening party. There is nothing so much in the way.’
‘Or that would be so glad to be let off,’ said Arthur, going.
‘You don’t mean to take them away? That is the climax of all your
crimes. Quite unallowable.’
‘Many things unallowable are done,’ said Arthur; ‘and I don’t allow her
to be over-tired.’
‘“Barbare”,’ began Mrs. Finch, but with a bow, as if it was a
compliment, he was gone in search of the carriage. She sat for a moment
silent, then said, ‘Well, I must forgive him. I never thought to see him
so careful of anything. How happy Theodora seems in your “menage”. Quite
a different creature; but perhaps that is from another cause?’
Violet made a little attempt at a laugh.
‘I am glad of it,’ said Mrs. Finch, heartily. ‘It is a horrid stiff
place for her at home, is it not? And I am delighted she should escape
from it. How she got consent, I can’t imagine; and Theodora has notions
of her own, and would do nothing without.’
‘Lord Martindale has a very high opinion of Mr. Fotheringham.’
‘I am not surprised. I read that book--a wonder for me, and was
perfectly “eprise”. But I did not think a genius with empty pockets
would have gone down at Martindale; and he is a bit of a bear, too, they
say, though perhaps Theodora likes him the better for that.’
‘Perhaps she does.’
‘I hope he is worthy of her. He is the great pride of the old folks at
Worthbourne. One heard of Percy’s perfections there morning, noon, and
night, till I could have hated the sound of his name. Very generous of
me to ask him here to-night, is it not? but I wish he would have come. I
want to judge of him myself. I could not bear all not to be perfect with
Theodora.’
There was little occasion for Violet to speak, Mrs. Finch always kept
the whole conversation to herself; but she could not but perceive that
though the exaggeration and recklessness of style were unpleasing,
yet it really was frank and genuine, and Theodora’s declaration that
Georgina was far preferable to Jane was less incomprehensible.
The evening was over, much to her relief; but there remained Theodora’s
bold undertaking to tell Mrs. Finch of Percy’s refusal to visit her.
Any one else would have let the subject drop, but Theodora thought
this would be shabby and cowardly, and was resolved not to shrink from
warning her friend.
She found Georgina looking over some cards of invitation, with an air of
great dissatisfaction, and almost the first words that greeted her were,
‘Have you a card for Lady Albury’s party?’
‘Yes; I heard Violet ask Arthur if he should be at home for it.’
‘Very strange! We left our cards, I know, yet they never asked us to
their party this week, and now seem to have missed us again. I wished
particularly to go, for one is sure to meet all that is worth seeing,
your knight among the rest. They are prim, strait-laced, exclusive
people themselves; but it is a house worth going to.’
‘I did not remember that you knew them.’
‘Oh! yes, we did; we used to be there pretty often when we lived with my
Uncle Edward; and it is not that they do not think my poor old man
good enough for them, for we went to their parties last year. So, Mrs.
Martindale has a card, you say!’
Theodora’s colour rose as she said, ‘Georgina, I am going to say what
no one else will tell you. It is not your marriage, but you must take
care--’
The crimson of Mrs. Finch’s cheeks, and the precipitation with which she
started to her feet, would have disconcerted most persons; but Theodora,
though she cast down her eyes, spoke the more steadily. ‘You must
be more guarded and reserved in manner if you wish to avoid unkind
remarks.’
‘What--what--what?’ cried Georgina, passionately; ‘what can the most
ill-natured, the most censorious, accuse me of?’
‘It is not merely the ill-natured,’ said Theodora. ‘I know very well
that you mean no harm; but you certainly have an air of trying to
attract attention.’
‘Well, and who does not? Some do so more demurely and hypocritically
than others; but what else does any one go into company for? Do you
expect us all to act the happy couple, like Captain and Mrs. Martindale
the other night? You should have brought your own Percy to set us the
example!’ said she, ending with a most unpleasant laugh.
‘Georgina, you must not expect to see Percy. He has rigid notions; he
always avoids people who seek much after fashion and amusement, and (I
must say it) he will not begin an acquaintance while you go on in this
wild way.’
‘So!’ exclaimed Georgina. ‘It is a new thing for the gentlemen to be
particular and fastidious! I wonder what harm he thinks I should do him!
But I see how it is: he means to take you away, turn you against me, the
only creature in this world that ever cared for me. Are not you come to
tell me he forbids you ever to come near me!’
‘No, no; he does not, and if he did, would I listen?’
‘No, don’t, don’t displease him on my account,’ cried Mrs. Finch. ‘Go
and be happy with him; I am not worth caring for, or vexing yourself
about!’
The tears stood on her burning cheeks, and Theodora eagerly replied,
‘Have no fancies about me. Nothing shall ever make me give up my oldest
friend. You ought to know me better than to think I would.’
‘You are so unlike those I live with,’ said Georgina sadly, as an excuse
for the distrust. ‘Oh, you don’t know what I have gone through, or you
would pity me. You are the only thing that has not failed me. There is
Jane, with her smooth tongue and universal obligingness, she is the most
selfish creature in existence--her heart would go into a nutshell!
One grain of sympathy, and I would never have married. It was all her
doing--she wanted luxuries! O Theodora, if I had but been near you!’
‘Hush, Georgina, this is no talk for a wife,’ said Theodora, severely.
‘I thought you pitied me!’
‘I do, indeed I do; but I cannot let you talk in that way.’
‘I never do so: no one else would care to hear me.’
‘Now listen to me, Georgina. You say you rely on me as you do on no one
else; will you hear me tell you the only way to be happy yourself--’
‘That is past,’ she murmured.
‘Or to stand well in the opinion of others! I am putting it on low
grounds.’
‘I know what you are going to say--Go and live in the country, and set
up a charity-school.’
‘I say no such thing. I only ask you to be cautious in your manners, to
make Mr. Finch of more importance, and not to let yourself be followed
by your cousin--’
Again Georgina burst into her ‘thorn crackling’ laugh. ‘Poor Mark! I
thought that was coming. People will treat him as if he was a dragon!’
‘I know you mean no harm,’ repeated Theodora; ‘but it cannot be right to
allow any occasion for observations.’
‘Now, Theodora, hear me. I dare say Jane has been telling you some of
her plausible stories, which do more harm than good, because no one
knows which part to believe. There was some nonsense between Mark and me
when we were young and happy--I confess that. Perhaps I thought he meant
more than he did, and dwelt upon it as silly girls do, especially when
they have nothing else to care for. Then came the discovery of all his
debts and scrapes, poor fellow, and--I won’t deny it--it half killed me,
more especially when I found he had been attached to some low girl,
and avowed that he had never seriously thought of me--he believed I
understood it as all sport. I was very ill. I wish I had died. There
was no more to be done but to hate him. My uncle and aunt Edward were
horridly savage, chiefly because I hindered them from going to Italy;
and Mrs. George Gardner thought I had been deluding Mark! Then Lady
Fotheringham asked us, and--it was dull enough to be sure, and poor
Pelham was always in the way--but they were kind comfortable folks. Lady
Fotheringham is a dear old dame, and I was in dull spirits just then,
and rather liked to poke about with her, and get her to tell me about
your brother and his Helen--’
‘Why, Jane said you were dying of low spirits!’
‘Well, so I was. I hated it excessively sometimes. Jane is not entirely
false in that. The evenings were horrid, and Sundays beyond everything
unbearable. I confess I was delighted to get away to Bath; but there--if
Jane would but have helped me--I would, indeed I would, have been
thankful to have gone back to Worthbourne, even if I had had to play at
draughts with Pelham for the rest of my days. But Jane was resolved,
and all my strength and spirit had been crushed out of me. She would not
even let me write to you nor to Lady Fotheringham till it was too late.’
‘Well, that is all past,’ said Theodora, whose face had shown more
sympathy than she thought it right to express in words. ‘The point is,
what is right now?’
And you see it is folly to say there is any harm or danger in my seeing
Mark: he never had any attachment to me seven years ago, nor any other
time, and whatever I felt for him had a thorough cure. I am not ashamed
to say I am glad he should be here to give him a chance of marrying a
fortune. That is the whole story. Are you satisfied?’
‘Satisfied on what I never doubted, your own intentions, but no further.
You ought to abstain from all appearance of evil.’
‘I am not going to give my cousin up to please Lady Albury--no, nor all
the Fotheringhams put together! You used to say you did not care for
gossip.’
‘No more I do, but I care for a proper appearance.’
‘Very well--hush--here he comes!
HE was Mr. Gardner, and whether it was that Mrs. Finch was more guarded,
or that her pleading influenced Theodora’s judgment, nothing passed that
could excite a suspicion that anything remained of the former feeling
between the cousins. It was in truth exactly as Mrs. Finch said; for
whatever were her faults, she was perfectly frank and sincere, clinging
to truth, perhaps out of opposition to her sister. Mark was not a man
capable of any genuine or strong affection; and as Theodora rightly
perceived, the harm of Georgina’s ways was not so much what regarded
him, as in the love of dissipation, the unguarded forward manner with
all gentlemen alike, and the reckless pursuit of excitement. There was
a heart beneath, and warmth that might in time be worked upon by better
things.
‘It is a great pity that people will drop her,’ she said to Violet. ‘The
more she is left to that stamp of society, the worse it is for her whole
tone of mind.’
Violet agreed, pitied, and wished it could be helped; but whenever they
met Mrs. Finch in company, saw it was not wonderful that people did not
like her.
Mr. Gardner was, on the contrary, a general favourite. Every one called
him good for nothing; but then, he was so very amusing! Violet could
never find this out, shrank from his notice, and withdrew as much as
possible from his neighbourhood; Emma Brandon generally adhering closely
to her, so as to avoid one whom she viewed as a desperate designer on
the Priory.
It was in parties that Violet chiefly saw Emma this spring. Theodora’s
presence in Cadogan-place frightened her away; and, besides, her
mornings were occupied by Miss Marstone’s pursuits. Lady Elizabeth
made no objection to her sharing in these, though sometimes not fully
convinced of the prudence of all the accessories to their charities,
and still less pleased at the influence exercised by Theresa over her
daughter’s judgment.
Emma’s distaste to society was now far more openly avowed, and
was regarded by her not as a folly to be conquered, but a mark of
superiority. Her projects for Rickworth were also far more prominent.
Miss Marstone had swept away the veil that used to shroud them in the
deepest recess of Emma’s mind, and to Violet it seemed as if they
were losing their gloss by being produced whenever the friends wanted
something to talk about. Moreover, Emma, who was now within a few months
of twenty-one, was seized with a vehement desire to extort her mother’s
consent to put them at once in execution, and used to startle Violet
by pouring out lamentations over her promise, as if it was a cruel
thraldom. Violet argued that the scheme was likely to be much better
weighed by taking time to think.
‘It has been the thought of my life! Besides, I have Theresa’s judgment;
and, oh! Violet, mamma means it well, I know; but she does not know what
she asks of me! Think, think if I should die in the guilt of sacrilege!’
‘Really, Emma, you should not say such dreadful things. It is not your
doing.’
‘No; but I reap the benefit of it. My grandfather bought it. Oh! if it
should bring a curse with it!’
‘Well, but, Emma, I should think, even if it be wrong to hold it, that
cannot be your fault yet. You mean to restore it; and surely it must
be better to keep it as yet, than to act directly against your mother’s
wishes.’
‘I don’t mean to act against her wishes; but if she would only wish
otherwise!’
‘Perhaps it is the best preparation to be obliged to wait patiently.’
‘If it was for any good reason; but I know it is only because it would
better suit mamma’s old English notions to see me go and marry in an
ordinary way, like any commonplace woman, as Theresa says. Ah! you would
like it too, Violet. It is of no use talking to you! As Theresa says,
the English domestic mind has but one type of goodness.’
Violet did not like to hear her dear Lady Elizabeth contemned; but she
had no ready answer, and humbly resigned herself to Emma’s belief that
she was less able to enter into her feelings than that most superior
woman, Theresa Marstone.