They were rather famous for their flower-shows at Lexville, not merely
for the capital displays of Nature's choicest beauties, educated by
cunning floriculturists to the nearest point to perfection, but also for
their wet days. When the exhibition was first instituted, people said
that the marquee was soaked and the ladies' dresses spoiled, simply
because the show was held upon a Friday. "Just," they said, "as if
anybody but a committee would have chosen a Friday for an outdoor fete!"
But, if anything, the day was a little worse upon the next occasion,
when Thursday had been selected, the same fate attending the luckless
managers upon a Monday, a Tuesday, and a Wednesday. But now at last it
seemed as if the fair goddess Flora herself had enlisted the sympathies
of that individual known to mortals as "the clerk of the weather," and,
in consequence, the day was all that could be desired. In fact, the
weather was so fine, that the bandsmen of the Grenadier Guards, instead
of coming down in their old and tarnished uniforms--declared, as a rule,
to be good enough for Lexville--mustered in full force, gorgeous in
their brightest scarlet and gold. The committee-men had shaken hands in
the secretary's tent a dozen times over as many glasses of sherry, and
forgotten to eat their biscuits in their hurry to order the cords of
Edgington's great tent to be tightened, so potent were the rays of the
sun; while within the canvas palace, in a golden hazy shade, the floral
beauties from many a hot house and conservatory were receiving the last
touches by way of arrangement.
Lexville was in a profound state of excitement that day, and Miss
l'Aiguille, the dressmaker, declared that she had been nearly torn to
pieces by her customers.
"As for Miss Bray," she said, "not another dress would she make for
her--no, not if she became bankrupt to-morrow--that she wouldn't! Six
tryings-on, indeed, and then not satisfied!"
However, Miss l'Aiguille's troubles were so far over that, like the rest
of Lexville, she had partaken of an early dinner, or lunch, and prepared
herself to visit the great fete.
Lexville flower-show was always held in the grounds of one of the county
magistrates, the Rev Henry Lingon, concerning whose kindness the
reporter for the little newspaper generally went into raptures in print,
and received orders for half-a-dozen extra copies the next bench-day.
And now fast and furiously the carriages began to set down--the wealth
and fashion of the neighbourhood making a point of being the earlier
arrivals, so as to miss the crowd of commoner beings who would
afterwards flock together.
"Ah, Vining! You're here, then, mai dear fellow! Why didn't you come
to lunch?" exclaimed Maximilian Bray, sauntering up to the young man,
who, rather flushed and energetic, was talking to a knot of
flower-button-holed committee-men.
"How do, Max?" exclaimed Charley, hastily taking the extended hand, and
giving it a good shake. Then, turning to the committee-men: "Much
rather not--would, really, you know--don't feel myself adapted. Well,
there," he exclaimed at last, in answer to several eager protestations,
"I'll do it, if you can get no one else!--Want me to give away the
prizes," he said, turning to Max Bray, who was gazing ruefully at his
right glove, in whose back a slight crack was visible, caused, no doubt,
by the hearty but rough grasp it had just received.
"To be sure--of course!" drawled Bray. "You're the very man, bai Jove!
But won't you come towards the gate? I expect our people here
directly."
Nothing loth, Vining strolled with his companion down one of the
pleasant floral avenues, but seeing no flowers, hearing no band; for his
gaze, he hardly knew why, was directed towards the approach; and though
Maximilian Bray kept up a drawling series of remarks, they fell upon
inattentive ears.
"Do you expect them soon?" said Charley at last, somewhat impatiently,
for he was growing tired of his companion's chatter.
"Ya-as, directly," said Bray, smiling. "But, mai dear fellow, why
didn't you come over and then escort them?"
Charley did not answer; for just then he caught sight of Laura, radiant
of lace and dress, sweeping along beside Mrs Bray, who seemed to cut a
way through the crowd at the farther part of the great marquee.
"Here they are," said Bray, drawing Charley along; "so now you can be
out of your misery."
"What do you mean?" said Charley sharply.
"Bai Jove! how you take a fellow up! Nothing at all--nothing at all!"
Charley frowned slightly, and then suffered himself to be led up to the
Elms party, Mrs Bray smiling upon him sweetly, and Laura favouring him
with a look that was meant to bring him to her side.
But Laura's look had not the desired effect; for Charley stayed talking
to Mrs Bray, after just passing the customary compliments to the
younger lady.
A frown--no slight one--appeared on Laura's brow; but in a few seconds
it was gone, and, walking back a few paces, she stayed by her younger
sisters, with whom Charley could see the young lady of the previous
day's encounter.
And now he would have followed Laura in the hope of obtaining an
introduction, but he was arrested by a stout committee-man.
"Would he kindly step that way for a moment?"
With an exclamation of impatience, the young man followed, to find that
his opinion was wanted as to the suitability of the site chosen for the
distribution of the prizes.
"But surely you can obtain some one else?" exclaimed Charley.
"Impossible, my dear sir," was the reply.
So, after two or three unavailing attempts to obtain a substitute,
Charley gave in; for the owner of the grounds, upon being asked,
declared that a better choice could not have been made; the principal
doctor shook his head; while Mr Onesimus Bray literally turned and fled
upon hearing Charley's request. So, with a feeling of something like
despair, the elected prize-giver began to cudgel his brains for the
verbiage of a speech, telling himself that he should certainly break
down and expose himself to the laughter of the assemblage; for the
grandees from miles round had made their way to Lexville to patronise
the flower-show; and at last, quite in despair, Charley walked hurriedly
down one of the alleys of the garden, passing closely by the Bray party,
and making Laura colour with annoyance at what she called his neglect.
But Charley Vining's perturbed spirit was not soothed by the anticipated
solitude of the shady alley; for, before he had gone twenty yards, he
saw Max Bray side by side with the lady who had occupied a goodly share
of his thoughts since the encounter of the previous day.
Their backs were towards him, but it was quite evident that Mr
Maximilian Bray was exerting himself to be as agreeable as possible to
his companion, though with what success it was impossible to say. At
all events, Charley Vining turned sharply round upon his heel, with a
strange feeling of annoyance entirely new pervading his spirit.
"How absurd!" he muttered to himself. "What an ass I was to come to a
set-out of this kind! No fellow could be more out of place!"
Turning out of the alley, he made his way, with rapid, business-like
steps, on to the lawn, where the rapidly-increasing company were now
gathering in knots, and listening to one of Godfrey's finest selections.
To an unbiased observer, the thought might have suggested itself that
there was as bright a flower-show, and as beautiful a mingling of hues,
out there upon the closely-shaven turf, as within the tent; but Charley
Vining was just then no impartial spectator; and, though more than one
pair of eyes grew brighter as he approached, he saw nothing but two
figures slowly issuing from the other end of the alley, where the
guelder roses were showering down their vernal snows.
"I should uncommonly like to wing that Max Bray's neck!" said Charley to
himself, as he threw his stalwart form into a wicker garden-chair, which
creaked and expostulated dismally beneath the weight it was called upon
to bear; and then, indulging in rather a favourite habit, he lolled
there, muttering and talking to himself--cross-examining and answering
questions respecting his uneasiness.
But the more he thought, the more uneasy he grew, and twice over he
shifted his seat to avoid an attack from some conversational friend whom
he saw approaching.
"There, this sort of thing won't do!" he exclaimed at last. "I'm afraid
I'm going on the pointed-out road rather too fast. Suppose I take a
dose of the Bray family by way of antidote."
So, leaving his seat, he strode towards where he could see Laura's white
parasol; but his intent was baffled by a couple of committee-men, who
literally took him into custody--their purpose being to give him divers
and sundry explanations respecting the distribution of the prizes.
Volume 1, Chapter VIII.