It was one of the things generally known in the neighbourhood of
Blandfield, that Sir Philip Vining gave up the Court to his son, who, in
a very short time, was to confer upon it a new mistress in the shape of
Laura Bray.
Every one said that it was an admirable match; and old ladies, who had
set themselves up for prophets, laughed and nodded together, and
reminded one another of how they had always said so. That croquet-party
at the Court was not for nothing, they knew!
Then came a round of congratulatory calls, and a general disposition
amongst the callers to declare that they had never heard of anything
that had given them more pleasure.
"Really," they said, "it was exquisite, and just the thing that was
wanted to make the Lexville circle complete. For, you see, Sir Philip
was indeed most charming, but he gave so few dinner-parties!"
"But what Charles Vining could see in that great, tall, coarse woman,
when there were my nice quiet gentle girls, I don't know. But there,
every eye forms its own beauty!"
So said Mrs Lingon; and, in fact, allowing for a little variety, so
said every mother of marriageable daughters; but all the same, at the
end of a fortnight Laura Bray was to be Mrs Charles, and in future Lady
Vining, always allowing, of course, that nothing occurred to put off the
wedding, that every one declared to be, on the whole, rather hurried.
There was certainly, too, a little disappointment felt by some of the
marriageable young ladies; but that was soon mastered: for there was to
be the wedding, after all, if they were not to be the principals in the
thrilling ceremony; and also, after all, there was not one of them who
might not be asked to act as bridesmaid.
It was the theme of discussion throughout the district. Even gentlemen
had their say, as they hoped that Vining wouldn't be so shabby as to cut
off his subs. to the hounds, even if he had no more idea of hunting.
While, as for the ladies, they knew to an inch how many yards of white
gros-de-Naples there would be in Laura's wedding-dress; how many
breadths there would be in the skirt; and that Miss Bray had decided not
to have it gored.
"And quite right too," said some with a titter, "with such a figure as
she has!"
"Don't you think Laura Bray looks quite yellow and thin?" said the elder
Miss Lingon, who was certainly neither yellow nor thin, but very plump,
fair, and dumplingy.
"O, decidedly!" said her sister. "She looks anxious and worried, too."
"Well, no wonder," said the elder Miss Lingon, with a sigh. "Any stupid
would know that it is a most anxious and trying time for her. She is
about to take a step which--"
"There's not much fear of your taking, Miss Fan," said her sister
spitefully. "And how you should know anything about its being an
anxious time, I'm sure I don't know, without you read it in a book."
The elder Miss Lingon tossed her head.
"But I know why she's anxious," said the second Miss Lingon. "Hugh told
me. It's because he will hunt so recklessly now."
"I don't believe that's it. All gentlemen hunt," said the other.
"You can believe what you like," was the snappish answer. And there the
matter dropped, as each lady waited anxiously for the request that
should make her a bridesmaid.
But, all the same, Laura did look thin and anxious. Not that Charley
Vining was wanting in attention, for he was constantly at the Elms; but
there was a great dread always oppressing her, that the wedding would
not take place. Each day that passed without adventure, she reckoned as
so much gained; and though Miss l'Aiguille was engaged with her staff
especially on Miss Bray's account, and dresses for bride and bridesmaids
were in rapid progress, yet would Laura start at the slightest sound,
and tremble as every letter came to the house.
She counted the days and the hours that must intervene, and mentally
checked them off as they passed away. She clung nervously to Charley as
he left her at night, and seemed loth to let him leave her, though he
smiled at her anxiety and tried to seem happy, but all the while there
was an aching void in his heart, as he told himself that he was about to
be guilty of a wrongful act.
And still the time glided on. A few more days, and Laura told herself
that she could be at rest.
"At rest?" She shivered as she repeated the words, and then tried to
look pleased at the rich presents sent by Sir Philip Vining, or brought
to her by Charley himself to swell the bridal trousseau.
But she could not conceal the agitation she felt; for ever, by night and
day, thrown athwart the light of her understanding was the dark shadow
of a peril to come--a peril coming as surely as day would succeed unto
night.
Costly preparations at Blandfield Court; painters and decorators busy;
fresh carpets here, and fresh carpets there; Laura fetched over by Sir
Philip to give her opinion upon this, her consent to that, or to choose
something else. The old gentleman seemed never happy save when he was
superintending some fresh arrangement that should add to the pleasure
and comfort of his fixture daughter-in-law. He was almost angry at
times on seeing how little interest was taken in such matters by his
son; but ever ready with an excuse, he set it down to Charley's renewed
pleasure in the sports of the field.
Laura did not complain, although Nelly, but for her youth, might have
been taken for the favoured one, since she was constantly Charley's
companion, to the great astonishment of Hugh Lingon. For the little
well-broken mare had been purchased, and had come down to Blandfield,
where, one day when Nelly was over with her sister, Charley proposed a
ride, the horses were brought round, and Nelly's rough black pony sent
back, to her utter astonishment; while, when informed that the graceful
little creature that stood arching its neck, and softly pawing at the
gravel, was her own, Nelly's joy knew no bounds, as, in turns, she
literally smothered Sir Philip and Charley with kisses.
It was not from mortification at being so unceremoniously left that
Laura turned pale; but, in her nervous state, it seemed that the danger
she apprehended--the peril that should stay the wedding--might come from
any direction, and that a delay of a month, a fortnight, or even of a
week, might be fatal to her prospects; for might not Charley alter his
mind? or--no, there was no fear of that now. But might not this prove a
danger that should delay that which she so ardently prayed for? Nelly
might meet with an accident, and be brought back half-killed.
There was certainly some foundation for Laura's fears; for had Miss
Nelly been left to herself, in her wild exhilaration she would most
probably have come to grief; in fact she tried her best to get thrown;
but there was ever a strong hand ready to be laid upon her rein, so
that, in spite of Laura's forebodings, she was brought back in safety.
Laura counted: six days--five days--four days--three days before--two
days before--one day before the wedding; and all this time Max Bray
might have been forgotten, for his name was never once mentioned at the
Elms. Hugh Lingon, though, on making an excuse for not having repaid
Charley's loan, mentioned having felt sure that he had seen Max in
London, but that he had been unable to overtake him before he
disappeared, but that, after all, he was not sure.
That news slightly disturbed Charley, and he winced as he thought upon
the probable future fate of Ella Bedford; his brow contracted too, as he
seemed to see a pale face appealing to him for help, and he shuddered
slightly as he drove away the thoughts.
He spent the evening with Sir Philip at the Elms, and all seemed to be
working to the one end.
Nelly was in a tremendous state of excitement, and displayed it as she
darted about with brightened eye and flushed cheek; but now that the
time was so near, Laura had so nerved herself that she was calm and
composed in appearance, though her heart was agitated by varied
emotions.
But what cause could there be for fear? Had not the woman who had been
her rival fled, in, apparently, a most discreditable manner, with her
own brother? Was not Charles Vining, if not a warm and passionate, at
all events a most respectable lover as to his attentions? Surely she
could wish for nothing more, if the proverb be true, that the hottest
love the soonest cools.
And, besides, how gleefully were all the preparations being made!
Gunters were providing the breakfast, and even then the men were in the
house. The wedding garments were waiting, and Miss l'Aiguille was
coming herself in the morning to superintend the dressing, to the great
disgust of Laura's maid. The wedding was expected to be one of the
grandest that had been in the neighbourhood for some years; and the
weather had been for many days past so settled and bright, that there
was every prospect of the bride being bathed in the sunshine of good
fortune.
"Good-night, for the last parting!" said Charley, as he held Laura in
his arms, previous to taking his departure; and she clung to him, for he
was more tender and gentle to her.
He must love her, she felt, or he could not have spoken as he had.
Only a few more hours, then, and the suspense would be at an end. The
wedding-breakfast over, dresses changed, the carriage would be in
waiting to convey them to the station. They were to pass the first
night in London, and depart by tidal boat the next morning for Paris,
Marseilles, Hyeres, Genoa, Rome--a month of pleasant touring in Southern
Europe; and in that period old sorrows would be forgotten, and her
husband's heart would have warmed to her.
But still Laura trembled, for she had been gambling for a great stake.
Had she won?
It seemed so; for once more he repeated those words, "Good-night, for
the last parting!" as they stood in the hall.
"But you'll have to put up with me, my dear!" said Sir Philip, kissing
Laura in his turn; "but I won't bother you--I won't interfere in any
way--only let me have my study fire in the cold weather; and don't stop
away from home too long. I say so now, because I shall have no chance
to-morrow. There, good-bye!"
They were gone; and, proud and elate, Laura returned to the
drawing-room. The victory was nearly won, and the happy congratulatory
looks of friends and those who were to act as her bridesmaids seemed to
be mirrored in her face, as they clustered laughingly round her--Mrs
Bray forbearing to shriek, and little pudgy Mr Bray disregarding her
evening dress as he caught her in his arms, to give her a sounding kiss
on either cheek.
Meanwhile Sir Philip and Charley were returning in their carriage to
Blandfield: the former light-hearted and chatty, the latter quiet, but
apparently content. He had weighed all well, and pondered the matter
again and again, and still his heart told him that it was his duty. The
faint spark of his old passion, as he called it, that would still keep
showing, in spite of his efforts to crush it out, he told himself would
soon be extinct--hiding the fact that that spark was a consuming fire
that was not even smouldering, but though concealed, eating its way
fiercely to the light.
"Good-night; heaven bless you, my dear boy!" said Sir Philip, as he
stood, candle in hand, in the hall. "It will be hard work sparing you,
Charley; for I'm an old man now, and growing feeble, and in want of
humouring. You may have your month, but don't exceed it."
Charley did not answer; but shook his father's hand warmly, and they
parted.
Volume 3, Chapter VII.