A BOUDOIR CONSULTATION.
"If two ladies talk together,
Be it fine or rainy weather,
Subjects three you'll find they handle--
Love, sans diamonds and a carriage,
Prospects of a wealthy marriage,
Or the latest piece of scandal."
What do ladies talk about over five o'clock tea when no male is
present? Ah, that is one of the mysteries of Bona Dea, the ritual
whereof is known to none of the stronger sex. They doubtless discuss
fashions--for no woman, however affecting to despise the pomps and
vanities of this world, can contemplate the raiment of another woman
without blaming or praising the same, according to taste or price.
Very likely they make remarks about their neighbours, and hint, with
nods and winks mysteriously suggestive that--well, you know what.
Nevertheless, men in their clubs do exactly the same thing, and
scandal is by no means monopolized by ladies. However, the question
is: What do they talk about?--and as the votaries of the Bona Dea will
not tell us, we must be content to accept ambiguous smiles and
tightly-closed lips as answer.
On this occasion, however, the subject under discussion was love, and
four ladies--two married and two unmarried--were talking together on a
very pleasant subject; and the subject was the courting of Tommy Valpy
by Toby Clendon.
"I must admit," said Mrs. Valpy, in her usual heavy fashion, "that I
was astonished when the young man spoke to me."
"I wasn't," observed Tommy, with a maiden blush.
"Ah," from Mrs. Belswin, "forewarned's forearmed. We all know that."
"I'm very pleased to hear about it," said Kaituna, putting her arm
around Tommy's waist "Mr. Clendon is most delightful."
"But not so much so as another person," hinted the engaged young lady,
with wicked intuition, whereupon Kaituna grew red, and requested
another piece of cake.
"Love is all very well," said Mrs. Belswin, who was a practical
person; "but it won't keep the pot boiling. Now about his income."
"Eight hundred a year," declared Tommy, boldly. "We can live on that."
"No doubt; but is the eight hundred a year certain?"
"Well, three hundred is very certain, because it comes from his
father; but the remaining five hundred--well, you know," said Miss
Valpy, hopefully, "literature pays so well nowadays, and Toby's in the
first flight."
"I don't think so much of his literature," observed Mrs. Valpy,
stirring her tea. "He may or he may not make the income he says, but
the three hundred a year is absolutely certain."
"I hope you'll be happy, dear," said Kaituna, gaily. "I, of course,
will be bridesmaid."
Tommy looked at her friend significantly, and then laughed.
"We will be married together," she whispered confidentially.
"I'm afraid not. Mr. Maxwell has said nothing----"
"No? Then he has looked a good deal."
Both girls laughed again, and then Mrs. Valpy began to explain her
ideas for Tommy's trousseau, which interested every one.
The bride-elect and her mother were staying for a few days at
Thornstream, and on this evening were going over to dine at the
Vicarage in company with Kaituna and Mrs. Belswin.
Clendon _père_ was delighted at the choice of his only son, and was
giving this dinner in order to welcome his intended daughter-in-law to
his family circle of two. Tommy got on very well with the vicar, who
liked her vivacity and brilliant manner so much that he was actually
weaned from his beloved library, and the black-letter folios saw less
of their owner than they had done since the time when they had been
purchased.
Mrs. Valpy was also calmly satisfied with her daughter's engagement,
as her intended son-in-law was a very delightful young man, and,
moreover, had a rich father, the latter fact being the most important
in the good lady's eyes. If he dabbled in literature, well, let him do
so. It would serve to keep him out of mischief; but as for deriving
any solid benefit from novel-writing or play-scribbling, such an idea
never entered Mrs. Valpy's head. All she knew was that Toby was a good
son, and would make a good husband, besides which he could keep his
wife in comfort, so what more could a mother desire? The old lady
therefore sat in Kaituna's boudoir, smiling and nodding over her tea,
completely satisfied with herself and the world.
"By the way," said Kaituna, when the exhaustive subject of Tommy's
trousseau had come to an end, "you know of course, Mrs. Valpy, that my
father is on his way home."
"Yes, dear, I heard something about it," replied the old lady lazily.
"When do you expect him for certain?"
"In about a fortnight."
"So soon?" said Mrs. Belswin to herself. "In that case I have no time
to lose."
"You'll be glad to see Sir Rupert, I suppose?" asked Tommy, turning to
the companion.
"Oh, yes, of course! But I'm not sure if I shall be here when he
arrives."
"Not here!" ejaculated Kaituna, in dismay. "Oh, Mrs. Belswin!"
"I have to go up to town, my dear," said that lady, very slowly, "in
order to see a--a friend of mine."
She hesitated over the last word, knowing in her own heart the errand
which was taking her up to town.
"But can't you put off your visit for a time?"
"I'm afraid not."
Kaituna said nothing, but looked reproachfully at her friend,
whereupon Mrs. Belswin kissed her with a gay laugh.
"Don't look so scared, my child. I shall only be away for a few days."
"You will like Sir Rupert, I'm sure," said Mrs. Valpy, who had been
slowly following out a train of thought. "He is a most delightful
man."
"So I have always heard," replied the chaperon coldly.
"Perhaps he'll marry again," said Tommy, idly, more for the sake of
saying something than from any idea of Sir Rupert's matrimonial
intentions.
"No."
The answer came from Mrs. Belswin, and had escaped her against her
will; but on seeing the surprise her sudden ejaculation had created,
she explained herself with calm grace.
"Of course I mean that Sir Rupert would surely not think of marrying
when he has this dear child to comfort him."
"I don't think papa will ever marry again," said Kaituna, in a low
tone. "I wonder at your saying such a thing. He was too fond of my
mother to forget her easily."
Mrs. Belswin turned away her head and sneered, for she was too well
acquainted with Rupert Pethram's selfish heart to believe that he
regretted her in the least. Seeing, however, that the subject was a
painful one to Kaituna, and by no means relishing it herself, she
hastened to turn the conversation by saying the first thing that came
into her head.
"By the way, do you know I have an admirer here?"
"Not the vicar?" cried Tommy, clapping her hands.
"No; I'm not antique enough."
"Then Mr. Gelthrip?"
"Ah, he's too devoted to his sick sister. No! My admirer is that
handsome Mr. Belk."
"Papa's bailiff," said Kaituna, smiling. "Well, he is very handsome,
but I must confess I don't like his face."
"Nor do I," declared Tommy, boldly. "He's got the same disagreeable
countenance as his mother."
"From what I've heard I think he's a very dissipated young man," said
Mrs. Valpy, slowly.
"I suppose Mr. Gelthrip told you that," remarked Mrs. Belswin, with
curling lip. "So like him. He never opens his mouth except to destroy
a reputation."
"I'm afraid Belk has no reputation to destroy," laughed Tommy, jumping
up. "But we shall meet the Rev. Gelthrip to-night, and I declare it's
time to dress."
The clock chimed the half-hour, and the ladies went away to dress,
with the exception of Mrs. Belswin, who remained in her chair absorbed
in thought.
"In a fortnight," she muttered to herself slowly. "Ah! I must be
prepared for him. I'll try and see him in London, and convince him
that I must stay by my child. If he consents, well and good; if he
refuses----"
She stopped, drew a long breath, and clenched her hands.
"If he refuses--I'll see Ferrari."