ACROSS THE SEA TO A WITCH'S CALDRON.
Broadlawns, on the outskirts of Bayswater, London, England, on the
evening Charles Babbington-Cole, from Toronto, Canada, is expected, is
all aglow with lights; its exterior a goodly spectacle with its many
windows. A long, low, rambling house, the front relieved by cornice and
architrave, and an immense portico from which white stone steps, wide
and worn by many feet, lead to the lawns and gardens, which are gay with
bright flowers, intersected with old-fashioned serpentine walks; one
would call it not inaptly a garden of roses, such were their number,
such their variety and beauty. Great masses of rhododendrons, with the
fragrant honeysuckle, sweet-briar, and lauristina lent perfume to the
air. Some fine oaks, with beech and graceful locusts, gave beauty to the
lawns; stone stables, with farm and carriage houses at the back, with
paved court-yard, and kitchen-garden luxuriant in growth, a very horn of
plenty.
"A lovely spot, an ideal home," said numerous passers-by to and from the
modern Babylon. Alas! that the interior should be a very _inferno_; in
the library are assembled the family, for a family talk.
Miss Villiers, to whom did we not give precedence, would trample on some
one to gain first place. Timothy Stone, her maternal uncle, and
Elizabeth Stone, his sister and Aunt to Miss Villiers; the latter by
sheer strength of will, since her babyhood, has ruled at Broadlawns,
even though, owing to disastrous speculation, the whole family were
penniless, save for the large fortune of her step-mother, Miss Villiers
lived for, moved and had her being for kingdom. Intensely selfish, and
totally devoid of feeling, an apt pupil of her aunt and uncle, she
regards all sentiment, romance or disinterested acts of kindness as
mawkish, unpractical foolishness.
A word of her looks. In height, five feet two, round shoulders slightly
high, thin spare figure, a brunette in coloring; stony eyes of piercing
blackness, always cold and searching as though planted closely in the
forehead to read one through, as to whether any of her dark secrets have
been discovered; a hook nose, thin, determined lips; hair black as the
wing of a raven; the back of her head covered with short, snake-like
curls, the front was drawn back in straight bands, thus giving
prominence to features already too unclassically so.
As far as a man can be said to resemble a woman, so did, in looks and
character, Timothy Stone his niece, save that his once coal-black hair
is now white; his fishy eyes sunken, though keen as a razor; in height,
five feet ten; of spare, alert figure, active as a prize racer, knowing
as the jockey who rides him.
Elizabeth Stone is an older counter-part of her niece, save that she
wears that fashionable mantle of to-day--the cloak of religion, in
which, unlike her brother, she is so comfortable as never to allow it to
fall from her angular shoulders.
The library, an old-fashioned, cold looking room, furnished in black
oak, everything being in spotless order, from books biblical and
secular, to Aunt Elizabeth's hands, folded just so on her stiff gown of
black silk, as to cause one to long for _deshabille_ somewhere other
than in the principles of those present.
"The only one whom we have to fear is Sarah Kane, and you, Margaret,
_will_ keep her about the place in spite of all I can say," said her
uncle, in crabbed tones; "mark my words, you are housing a rod for your
own back by your abominable self-will."
"I am no fool; did I dismiss her I should convert her into a deadly
enemy at once; but, as I have before had occasion to remark, Uncle
Timothy, that, thanks to your tuition and blood, I am quite able to take
care of myself, and minus your interference."
"Don't squabble with her, Timothy, when the man Providence is sending
her as a husband may be in our midst at any moment; as you heard at the
hotel, he is now in the city."
"Oh bosh, Elizabeth, keep that tone under your church hymnal, as I do;
between ourselves it is slightly out of place," and he smiled
sarcastically.
"No, Timothy, in spite of the sinful example you set me, I shall keep my
lamp trimmed and burning; providence is very good to us in laying low of
fever, at Montreal, Hugh Babbington-Cole, thus giving him time to
repent, as also preventing his presence at the wedding of Margaret."
"At which you have been making mountains of mole hills," said her
brother, grimly. "Babbington-Cole could not possibly remember what
Margaret and Pearl looked like in eighteen-seventy."
"Your memory is as usual convenient, Timothy, relentless time would have
shown him the difference in years, of a girl just of age, and a woman of
thirty-nine."
"Enough, Aunt Elizabeth," interrupted her niece, pale with rage, "I
simply won't allow you to allude to the subject of ages; if I am to play
the role of twenty-one, the sooner I get into the part the better for us
all; we all serve our own ends in this game, self-interest is, and ever
has been, our strongest motive. For myself, I hate Pearl Villiers as I
hated my step-mother before her, and I shall not willingly leave
Broadlawns merely because we have no income to keep it up, when, by
personating my step-sister--fortunately of my own Christian, as well as
surname, thanks to the British habit of perpetuating family names--I
gain the wherewithal to either remain in this peaceful English home,"
she said, ironically, "or roam across seas with the husband or crank I
am about to wed--a crank! to revolve the wheels of fortune, while I
leave you both here like a pair of cooing doves. You, Aunt Elizabeth,
gain your revenge on Mr. Babbington-Cole for his preference for my
step-mother to yourself; oh, you needn't wince, my ears have been put to
their proper use. You, Uncle, were spurned by my angel step-mother, you,
pining not for her, but her yellow sovereigns, so...."
"You are a witch, Margaret; how the d----l did you find it out?"
"Timothy, Timothy, be good enough not to swear in my presence."
"Oh, I have gleaned the truth in various devious paths from Sarah Kane
in a weak mood, also letters, and I have not lost my sense of hearing;
as you have told me since I could lisp that my wits are sharper than
Rodgers' cutlery; yes, if Broadlawns went to its owner or the hammer,
you joined the Salvation Army, and my step-sister dangled the purse, I
feel it in my bones that I could now rival my tutors in living by my
wits," she said, cruelly.
"You are not devoid of common sense, Margaret; and as we may not have
another opportunity before your importunate suitor appears, I shall
refresh your memory by reading again a clause or two of your late
step-mother's will ... 'to my husband, Henry Villiers, I bequeath the
life use of one thousand pounds sterling per annum; at his death I will
and bequeath the whole of my real and personal property to my only
daughter (Pearl) Margaret Villiers ... on my little (Pearl) Margaret
Villiers attaining her majority, and becoming the wife of the aforesaid
Charles Babbington-Cole, son of my friend, Hugh Babbington-Cole, of the
Civil Service, Ottawa, Canada; my said daughter shall enter into
possession of all my real and personal property, with the advice of Dr.
Annesley, of London, England, or Hugh Babbington-Cole, Esquire,
aforesaid, my said daughter to inherit all, subject to the following
gifts. To Sarah Kane, five hundred pounds sterling and my wearing
apparel; my piano, harp and music, I will and bequeath to the
sister-in-law of my husband, Elizabeth Stone, for her mission-work, with
the hope that their sweet notes will make her less acid to my poor
little daughter, as also to the daughters of the poor to whom she brings
the Gospel message of peace. To my step-daughter, Margaret Villiers, I
leave my forgiveness for her persistent and unvarying unkindness to
myself, with my copy of the Christian Martyrs.'"
"Fool!" muttered her step-daughter, vengefully.
"Poor, carnal creature, we are now ordained to be almoners of the gold
she would have spent sinfully on her daughter; we are saving Pearl from
the perils of the rich, for easier is it for a camel to go through
the----"
"Enough of that cant, Aunt; please keep it bottled up, it don't go down
with us," interrupted her niece, hastily.
"The will is plain enough, considering that it was written by herself,
and witnessed by Dr. Annesley, and that sneak, Silas Jones; how much the
latter knows is hard to tell, I have pumped him indirectly without
avail; Annesley, being a busy London physician, will not bother himself
in the matter now that Villiers is dead; he has no more love for us than
we for him; our card is to expedite your union with speed and privacy;
you will most likely go to Canada, as I expect Charles (as we best
accustom ourselves to call him) will prefer such arrangement; I shall
pay you regularly----"
"Yes, you'd better not try any of your sharp tricks on me, Uncle; if the
cheque is not forwarded to the day, Trenton and Barlow will interview
you; my sword will also hang by a hair."
"How confoundedly smart we are," he answered, wrathfully.
"I have been brought up in a good school," she replied, sententiously.
"I am glad you are able to appreciate our many useful lessons to you,"
he said, sneeringly. "And now to business; three thousand pounds per
annum will be a large income for Canada; especially, as knowing your
generous nature, I feel sure it will be all spent on your own wants; had
you not better leave us three thousand, and pinch yourself," he said,
sarcastically, "on two thousand?"
"Not much! anything I don't spend on myself, as you observe, I shall
invest in, I think, C. P. R. stock, or even Grand Trunk, as it is
looking up, there being a rumor that next year it will form a connection
by way of Duluth, with the Manitoba boundary rail, thus placing itself
in competition with the C. P. R. You need not stare, I am making myself
conversant with the state of the Canadian money market."
"How wise we are. I can tell you that only a fool would invest in such
like, with that Red River Valley Railway bungle on. What I want to be
made aware of is, have you determined on taking no less than three
thousand per annum?"
"I have positively so determined. I don't think I look like a fool."
"I do--in a pink muslin, with as much ribbon hanging over your bustle as
would make a decent gown."
"You are neglecting your education, uncle, in your favorite game of gold
grab. I'd advise you to go to the city and take a few lessons from the
clerks at Swan & Edgar's; they will tell you that in society a bustle is
a _tournure_. As for my dress, my role is twenty-one, and I must bear
some resemblance to the sweet lines of the poet--of
'Standing with reluctant feet,
Where the brook and river meet.'"
"Dear, dear, what frivolity, and the suburban train is due; we should
unite in thanking Providence that this gold is in our hands; but
previously, Margaret, you should stipulate in writing that your uncle
may pay me the sum of one hundred pounds per annum for my good works.
There is Meg Smith, actually pining for her drunken husband, who says he
won't reform until he gets her again; but I have my foot down, and shall
keep them apart even if we have to pay her board; there is no use in my
telling them not to be 'unequally yoked with unbelievers,' and then give
in. I could cite dozens."
"Pray do not. It's my belief all you women care for is power to rule:
the wretches would be far better without your government. Heaven
preserve me from a woman with a mission," said her brother in disgusted
tones. "As to my promising to pay you any stipulated sum, you will
receive your allowance for wearing apparel, and anything you can crib
out of the housekeeping you will (all women take to that card
naturally); but remember, if I find myself on short rations there will
be the devil to pay."
"One word more, as the speakers say," said Miss Villiers, "ere we
dissolve this profitable (I use the word advisedly) meeting: what fable
shall we concoct as to the whereabouts of my angelic step-sister?"
"What an unpleasant way you have of putting things Margaret," said her
aunt.
"I prefer on occasion to call 'a spade a spade,' Aunt Elizabeth. Well,
uncle, shall it be as to her self-reliant spirit, and that she (being a
mistake which means anything) has fled to that broad and convenient
field, the United States of America?"
"Yes, that will pass; but I scarcely think he will inquire, as he has
never troubled himself about his betrothed or yourself until you hunted
him up."
"At your instigation; so disinterested in you, never thinking of the
feathers for your own nest."
"The suburban train is due!" exclaimed her aunt. "Do, Margaret, endeavor
to act like a Christian."
"Never fear, Aunt Elizabeth; I shall act my part as well as you do, with
self-interest as motive-power: our sex play without a prompter; and now
to the drawing-room to awe the ignorant Colonial by our British gold and
conventionalities."