THE VISIT.
Putting some constraint upon themselves, we are sorry to say, Lady
Dunkeld and her daughter on the following afternoon drove over to
Birkwoodbrae, and sent in their cards to Mary and Ellinor Wellwood,
who were busy in their little drawing-room with some piles of
freshly-cut flowers; and though both were startled--or certainly
surprised--by this unusual visit, nothing of that emotion was
perceptible in their manner; yet the arrival of the London carriage,
with its showy hammercloth, with the Dunkeld arms on the panels, a
row of plated coronets round the top, the elaborate 'snobbery,' if we
may call it so, of rank--Scottish rank, too often without
patriotism--was there--excited something akin to terror among the old
servants; and the way in which one of the tall 'matched footmen'
pulled the door bell, and the other banged down the carriage steps,
went quite 'upon the nerves' of old Elspat Gordon, and the visitors
sailed in, displaying those perfect toilettes which were suited to
the Row, and which London alone can produce.
The beauty of the day, of the weather generally, more than all the
beauty of Birkwoodbrae and its garden, 'which seemed quite a love of
a place, with all its roses and flowers,' were all discoursed on
rapidly and fluently by Lady Dunkeld and Blanche Galloway, while
their observant eyes took in every detail of the sisters, their
appearance, dress, and surroundings, with all of which they felt
secretly bound to admit that no solid fault could be found, though
the carpets, hangings, and so forth had certainly seen better times.
'We are to have a garden-party in a few days, Miss Wellwood,' said
Lady Dunkeld, 'and hope to have the pleasure of seeing you and Miss
Ellinor. Lest you might be out, I have brought your cards; but,
being a country gathering, it will be, I fear, rather a tame affair,'
she added, smiling, as she laid the embossed and scented missives on
the table.
Mary's long lashes quivered as she glanced at Ellinor. Both bowed an
assent, and murmured thanks, adding that they led very quiet lives
now, and seldom went much abroad.
'What are you making with all these beautiful flowers?' asked Blanche
Galloway; 'two funeral chaplets apparently.'
'They are so--green ivy leaves, white roses, and lily of the valley,'
replied Mary.
'For what purpose?'
'To lay on the graves of papa and mamma. To-morrow is the
anniversary of her death--she died in summer, papa in winter,' she
added, with the slightest perceptible break in her voice.
'Oh, indeed; how good of you!' murmured Lady Dunkeld.
'How pretty!' cooed her daughter, one of those young ladies so
carefully trained as to think it 'awfully bad form' to betray any
emotion or feeling that was in any way natural.
'Sir Redmond Sleath was so enchanted with your drawings, Miss
Ellinor,' said Lady Dunkeld, to change the subject, as woful ones
were eminently distasteful to her. 'He is never weary of singing
their praises.'
This was not strictly true, for the baronet had just barely mentioned
the matter once, but poor Ellinor blushed with real pleasure.
'He is very good-natured,' said Miss Galloway, lest the listener
might value Sir Redmond's praises too highly; 'but fastidious--oh,
very fastidious. Don't you think he has handsome eyes?'
'I did not observe them.'
'Indeed! They are a lovely blue.'
'I never before heard a man's eyes called lovely,' said Mary,
laughing.
'And he is such a flirt!'
'Blanche, child!' expostulated her mother.
'But he has strange ideas--people say he will never marry,' added the
'child,' who was determined that, whatever Ellinor might think, she
was not to flatter herself that she had made anything approaching a
conquest. 'He has been everywhere, and, of course, has seen
everything.'
'And is a male flirt, you say?' said Mary, smiling.
'Too awfully so; but then, most of the young ladies he knows are not
disinclined to a little flirtation, and can take very good care of
themselves.'
As Miss Galloway spoke, there was the slightest derisive erection of
her delicate eyebrows, and the pointed intonation of mockery in her
well-bred voice. All this was meant for Ellinor's edification, and
she did not entirely forget it; but to Mary there seemed something
discordant, flippant, and strange in thus discussing a visitor's ways
or character.
'We all travelled together,' said Lady Dunkeld, 'and came straight
from London to Perth. As for tarrying in Edinburgh, that was not to
be thought of.'
'Of course not,' added Blanche, shrugging her shoulders. 'I don't
think even Captain Colville with all his patriotism could stand the
dulness, the narrow ideas, and the bad style of people there. All
provincial towns are so unbearable after London.'
Mary Wellwood resented, but silently, their ungracious remarks. Her
memories of Edinburgh were experiences never to be forgotten; and she
thought of the lovely valley gardens, the veritable river of greenery
under the vast Castle Rock, the glorious white terraces of the New
Town, the dark and history-haunted masses of the Old--the Regalia,
Mons Meg, and all the rest of it, as she had seen them in the
happiest days of her girlhood; and she felt pleased when Lady Dunkeld
said:
'Captain Colville had not been there for years; and he _was_ disposed
to stay a day or two behind us.'
'Surely not for the sake of any beauty he saw,' exclaimed Blanche,
laughing; 'but in many ways he is very different from Sir Redmond.'
He was indeed, we are glad to say; but in what particular manner the
Hon. Blanche referred to, the sisters were not fated to know, as Lady
Dunkeld now rose, the carriage was summoned, and saying with one of
her sweet but stereotyped smiles, 'we shall expect to see you at our
little affair, gave them the tips of her gloved fingers and swept
away.
Mary and Ellinor looked at each other with a little expression of
surprise and bewilderment in their faces, and both felt that Blanche
Galloway had, to say the least of it, disappointed them by her
general style.
Their emotions varied--one moment they felt flattered and pleased by
the recognition of their own position and that once held by their
parents in society which the sudden visit from the ladies of the
great house implied.
At another moment they felt the reverse--feared they were being
patronised, and thought they should decline the invitation.
Yet why?
To do so would be, perhaps, to adopt the position of an inferior; and
the invitation might be the result of real kindness of heart, after
all.
They knew not that they were indebted for the whole affair chiefly to
a few friendly remarks made by Lord Dunkeld, and more especially by
Leslie Colville, though those of the latter caused some afterthoughts.
'Men are very weak,' surmised Lady Dunkeld; 'but, of course, a man in
Captain Colville's position can mean nothing more than simplest
kindness, but the girls are pretty--unfortunately for themselves, I
think, more than pretty.'
The pride, admiration, and half-alarm of Elspat Gordon and other old
servitors on the subject of the visit, which proved their nine days'
wonder, amused while it annoyed Mary. She had her own ideas--it
might be fears for the future--and, though she said little, she
thought a good deal.
The acceptances were written and despatched; and costumes were the
next thing to be considered for the entertainment, of which Robert
Wodrow heard the tidings with a very dark expression in his face
indeed.
'Of what are you thinking, Ellinor?' asked Mary, softly, seeing the
dark eyes of her sister fixed apparently on vacancy.
'Only of how differently the lives of some of us are allotted, and
how pleasantly some people are circumstanced, compared with others.'
'Meaning ourselves and such as Blanche Galloway?'
'Well, yes.'
'Never mind, Ellinor dear,' replied Mary; 'I always say, blessed be
God for all His gifts,' she added, thinking of the legend over the
old doorway.