"Surely, Miss Bedford, you never think of going to Sir Philip Vining's
party such a figure as that!"
It was the day of the Blandfield Court invitation, and the ladies were
assembling in the drawing-room. For, some days before, in accordance
with his promise, Sir Philip had been over to the Elms, taking Laura
quite by surprise when he supplemented his invitation by a request that
Miss Bedford might also be of the party.
"Miss Bedford--our governess!" stammered Laura, completely taken aback.
But she was herself again the next instant, as she saw through the
arrangement.
"Sir Philip has been deceived," she thought; "but I am not so easily put
off, nor yet cast off," she muttered.
What should she do? Display open anger, or temporise until Ella Bedford
could be dismissed--ignominiously dismissed--from her situation?
Laura Bray was angry, and therefore she talked to herself in strong
language, and called things by unpleasant names. But she must act in
some way, she thought; it would never do for her to give up all for
which her ambitious nature thirsted. She had set herself upon being
Lady Vining, and after a fashion she loved Charley, who, from being free
and friendly, and on happy laughing terms with her, seemed daily to be
growing more and more distant; for she was not deceived by his assumed
sociability. She herself had acted so as to try and efface the past;
but there was still the recollection of the conservatory scene, and
though she tried to set it down as merely a bit of flirtation--one that
she ought to pass over without notice--her heart would not accept of the
flattering unction; for she knew Charley Vining to be too sterling, too
generous a man to trifle with the feelings of any woman.
Then why was he trifling with her? she exclaimed vehemently. Had she no
claims to his consideration? There was a dull heavy feeling came over
her, as she thought of how he had never been more than friend to her,
and that the warmth had been entirely on one side.
But she felt that it would not do to show her anger--kindness would
perhaps work a change; and until her rival--no, she would not dignify
her with that title--till this governess had gone, she would assume an
appearance of sorrow, trying the while to win Charley back from his
passing fancy. She could have bitten her tongue for the ill-judged
hasty words she had spoken; but O, if she could but detect this Miss
Bedford in some light coquettish act, some behaviour too frivolous for
her position, it should go hard with her!--for at the present--probably
on account of the dislike openly shown--Mrs Bray and her hopeful son
seemed disposed to treat their dependent with more consideration, which
was really the case on the part of the former, whose mental constitution
was such that she could not conceive the possibility of any one holding
a paid position to perform certain duties possessing the sensitiveness
and thoughts of a lady.
Laura had determined to temporise, and also to counterplot. It struck
her that Sir Philip had been deceived, and hurriedly rising, she left
the room.
It was evident to her sharpened perceptibilities that it was Charley's
doing that Miss Bedford was invited; and she determined Sir Philip
Vining should see who was the lady his son wished to be of the party.
Laura's heart beat quickly, as, with assumed kindness and gentleness of
mien, she returned from the schoolroom with Ella, and introduced her to
Sir Philip.
"I thought that Miss Bedford would like to thank you herself, Sir
Philip, for your kind invitation," she said, by way of explanation of
her sudden act; and then she watched attentively the effect produced.
She was right. Sir Philip was startled, and as he rose to cordially
greet and repeat his invitation, he gazed almost wonderingly at the
sweet mien and gentle face before him, raising Ella's hand, and with all
the grace of an old courtier, kissing it respectfully, moved by the true
homage he felt for so much youth and beauty. But as he released her
hand, there was a troubled puzzled look in the old gentleman's face--a
look that was still there when at last he took his leave to go
thoughtfully homeward; for now it again struck him that Charley's
impressive demand that the governess should be asked was a little
strange, though here was the key.
Sir Philip dismissed the thought that oppressed him, though. Charley
was too noble to be moved by any disloyal acts; and as to stooping--
pooh! it was absurd! He was growing an old woman, full of nervous fears
and fancies; and casting his "whimsies," as he called them, away, he
entered with all his heart into the preparations for the little fete.
And now the day had arrived, and the ladies were assembling in the
drawing-room, where Mr Bray and "Mr Maximilian" were already waiting.
Mrs Bray had sailed and rustled into the room in a tremendously stiff
green brocade dress, to be complimented by her lord as resembling a
laurel hedge, and by her son for her May-day aspect and
Jack-in-the-green look. But Mrs Bray was satisfied, and that was
everything. Her satisfaction was evident by the way in which she swept
round the room, making a vortex that caught up the light chairs and
loose articles that came within its reach.
"Bai Jove, there, why don't you mind!" exclaimed Max, as the glossy hat
left upon the couch was sent spinning across the room. "Why don't you
sit down?"
Mrs Bray did not reply, but she would not have sat down in that dress,
save in the carriage, upon any consideration--at all events, not until
after it had been seen at Blandfield.
Max's hat was made smooth sooner than his temper, and he was still
muttering and grumbling when Nelly and her sisters came bounding in,
like three tall, thin, peripatetic tulips, followed closely by Laura,
glorious with black hair, flashing eyes, amber moire, and black lace.
Mr Onesimus Bray placed his hands in his pockets and walked smilingly
round his daughter, in whom he took immense pride; but the attempt that
he made to kiss her was received with a shriek of horror, his daughter
darting back beyond his reach, and at the same time bringing forth an
oath from her brother's lips, as she swept the glossy, newly-brushed hat
from the marqueterie table whereon it had been placed for safety.
"For shame, Max!" exclaimed his mother.
"Bai Jove, then, it's enough to make an angel swear! How would you like
a fellow to tread on your bonnets?"
The ladies shuddered.
"Never mind, then--a poor old Max!" exclaimed mischievous Nelly, who had
but a few minutes before been snubbed by her brother; and, stooping
down, she picked up the unfortunate hat, and, before she could be
arrested, carefully brushed all the nap up the wrong way, Max sitting
completely astounded the while at the outrage put upon him.
What he would have said remains to this day unknown. His mouth had
gasped open after the fashion of an expiring aquarium pet, and he was
about to ejaculate, when he stopped short; for Ella Bedford came quietly
into the room, the centre, as it were, of a soft cloud of grey barege,
which gave to her pale gentle features almost an ethereal expression,
but which called forth from the gorgeous amber queen the remark standing
at the head of this chapter:
"Surely, Miss Bedford, you never think of going to Sir Philip Vining's
party such a figure as that!"
Ella coloured up, and then said gently: "Shall I change the dress for a
plain muslin, Miss Bray?"
"O, I'm sure I don't know!" exclaimed Laura, with a toss. "I think--"
"I think the dress looks uncommonly nice, Miss Bedford--I do, bai Jove!"
drawled Max, fixing his glass in his eye, and staring furiously.
It was the first act of kindness Max Bray had done for many a long day;
but it caused a shrinking sensation in her for whom it was intended,
while Laura darted at her a fierce look of hatred, and then an angry
glance at her brother.
Ella looked inquiringly at Mrs Bray, as if for instructions; but that
lady always sided with son Max, as did Mr Bray, as far as he dared,
with his daughter.
"I almost think--" he ventured to observe.
"Don't talk stuff, Ness!" shrieked his lady. "What do you know about a
lady's dress? If it was a fleece or a pig--There, I think Miss
Bedford's things will do very nicely indeed; and if some people would
only dress as neatly, it wouldn't half ruin their parents in
dressmakers' bills."
Laura did not condescend to answer, but throwing herself into a chair,
she took up a book, pretending to read, but holding it upside down, till
Nelly laughingly called attention to the fact.
"Pert child!" exclaimed Laura fiercely.
"Don't care!" laughed Nelly. "So the book _was_ upside down; and I'd
rather be a pert child than a disagreeable, sour old maid!"
"You'd better send that rude tom-boy to bed--you had, bai Jove!" drawled
Max.
"Ah!--and I'd rather be a rude tom-boy than a great girl, bai Jove, Mr
Max!" cried Nelly; whereupon Mr Bray laughed, Mrs Bray scolded, and
Nelly pretended to cry, directing a comical look the while at her
father, who, whatever his weakness, was passionately fond of his girls.
The crunching of the gravel by the wheels of the wagonette put a stop to
the rather unpleasant scene, when, to Laura's surprise, Max jumped up
and handed Ella down to the carriage, returning afterwards for his
sister, who favoured him with a peculiarly meaning look; one which he
replied to in as supercilious a manner as he could assume.
"What does it mean, Max?" she whispered, as they descended the stairs.
"More affection for your little sisters?"
"My dear Laura," drawled Max, "will you take my advice and adopt a
motto?"
"Motto?" said Laura inquiringly.
"Ya-as, bai Jove! the very one for you--just suited to the occasion:
_Laissez-aller_. Do you understand?"
Laura looked at him meaningly, but made no reply, for they had reached
the carriage.
Volume 1, Chapter XV.