Nothing had ever surprised and annoyed Captain De Crespigny more than
the unadmiring indifference with which, week after week, Marion
received his visits. Her easy, good humored courtesy of manner was
unpardonable! No peculiar consciousness became visible in her manner,
when he addressed her; no accession of sensibility in her voice; no
agitation in her smile; no increase of her natural timidity; no desire
of captivation, nor the slightest coquetry in displaying her own
fascinations.
To be thus treated like a cousin or a brother was mortifying in the
extreme, and appeared to him perfectly unaccountable, because he little
guessed the contrast which incessantly presented itself to Marion's
mind, between the low, every-day tone of his thoughts, on all the
essential objects of existence, and the elevated sentiments or generous
feelings, to which she had lately become accustomed in the society of
Mr. Granville. Captain De Crespigny's conversation always diverted her
on account of its eccentricity; but in the selfishness and vanity he
inadvertently betrayed, she saw how little he could know the real
nature and value of that happiness springing from principle and
affection, which alone could satisfy her heart.
Formerly, Captain De Crespigny would have gloried in surmounting
difficulties, if he had ever found any difficulties to conquer; and now
he was determined not to become discouraged, though he felt, if such a
thing could be possible, almost humbled. His eye followed Marion
wherever she turned, and he was now for ever by her side, though she
evidently made it her continual business to avoid him, as she had
latterly become more aware than before of his assiduity.
Fortified by the consciousness of her own secret engagement, and by the
knowledge that Agnes had a well-founded belief in his attachment to
herself, Marion's countenance, which told every transient emotion of
her heart, never betrayed a thought of love; and it seemed to Captain
De Crespigny as if her heart must be of granite, so cold and hard
beneath a smiling stream. She was long of even suspecting the worst,
and would not fully believe when she did, that his volatile fancy had
really changed; yet a spell seemed over her, that she could not escape
from Captain De Crespigny's society, without giving offence to Sir
Patrick and Agnes, who both, for different reasons, insisted on her
being present when he called, though, unlike her sister, who would have
sacrificed every one to herself, she would have sacrificed herself for
every one, and only thought with considerate affection, how she could
best spare the feelings of Agnes, and at the same time escape from
occasioning any jealousy, the fear of which now haunted her like a
perpetual night-mare.
One morning, when Agnes was seated in a state of exceedingly full-blown
satisfaction, expecting Captain De Crespigny's usual visit, and
considering him as much her own property as either her reticule or her
work-box, she observed Marion, who had occupations for every hour of
the day, hastily gather up her drawing materials, and glide towards the
door, evidently anxious to escape without observation, but in vain.
The barometer of Agnes's countenance had become exceedingly stormy,
while watching Marion's progress; and being one who rather enjoyed the
excitement of a quarrel than otherwise, she asked Marion in a voice
raised an octave higher than usual, which sounded as sharp and cutting
as an east wind, where she was about to go, adding, in her most
sarcastic tone,
"Pray inform me, Marion, why I am to be left in solitude here, when
everybody knows that in a place like this I cannot possibly receive
visitors alone. One would suppose that you wished to prevent me from
seeing Captain De Crespigny this morning."
"By no means, Agnes. But is there any occasion for me to remain, when
Patrick of course accompanies him here as usual?"
"Nonsense, Marion. You know perfectly well that Patrick may or may not
be here, for that all depends on whims like your own, and nothing
renders it correct to receive gentlemen in the morning, except there
being two of us at home. I expected more friendship and consideration
from you; but people never will think of any one but themselves!"
"You are like a Hebrew scholar, and always read me backwards, Agnes. I
have only to know your wishes in order to comply with them," replied
Marion, good-humoredly re-seating herself, and adding, with a beautiful
timidity of manner and voice, "I cannot but think that, until you are
actually engaged, it would perhaps be better if--if--Captain De
Crespigny's attentions were not to--to be at all divided."
"Divided!" exclaimed Agnes, looking perfectly sublime in her anger.
"What can you mean?"
"Excuse me, Agnes," replied Marion, trying to steady her voice, and to
hide her confusion. "I mean that Captain De Crespigny has the
reputation of being a confirmed flirt; that I hope and trust, if it be
really for your happiness, he is, as you think, irretrievably attached
and engaged to yourself; but if a housemaid enter the room, he cannot
resist attempting to look handsome, and to attract her admiration;
therefore you cannot but suppose he will endeavor to waste some of his
fascinations occasionally upon me, and till he is my brother, I would
rather avoid any such absurdity."
"Your meaning is plain enough now, and requires no interpreter!" said
Agnes, with an angry toss of her head. "Every one must see and know,
that Captain De Crespigny is exclusively and entirely devoted to me."
"That is a point, Agnes, of which no third person can be an adequate
judge," replied Marion, evasively; "but I am as anxious to believe it
as yourself."
"If you entertain any fear of causing me a disappointment, make your
own mind perfectly easy, as mine is. If Captain De Crespigny could
hesitate a moment between us, I should scarcely think him worth living
for, and still less worth dying for. Be assured I shall never endure a
moment's uneasiness on your account. Here he comes, regular as the
rising sun, and quite as welcome."
After all the lively badinage of Captain De Crespigny's first reception
was over, Marion quietly retreated into the deep embrasure of a window,
where her work-table stood, and busied herself with answering some
notes, while almost entirely shaded from observation; yet still Captain
De Crespigny's eye incessantly wandered to the place where she sat,
for there was something unintentionally _piquante_ in the total
indifference with which she thus secluded herself from his attentions
and civilities. Observing, at length, that Marion had begun carefully
pruning the dead leaves from a bouquet of rather drooping flowers,
which seemed still vainly affecting to look fresh and gay, he broke off
in the middle of a sentence from Agnes, and clandestinely approaching
the table when Marion was looking in another direction, he stole them
all away, and substituted one so fresh and fragrant that Marion uttered
an exclamation of rapturous admiration. She neither blushed nor looked
down, however; but as if it were no more than an every day civility,
held it up to Agnes for admiration, and endeavored to attract her
towards the table by the perfume of her beautiful flowers.
"Nothing withered or blighted should ever be here," said Captain De
Crespigny, in his most sentimental tone. "I should like, in one
respect, to resemble flowers, which give nothing but pleasure to all
who see them. Are you writing prose, or is this Poet's Corner? If I had
the pen of Moore, I could find one subject for my muse more beautiful
than any he ever wrote upon, and feelings more deep than he ever
expressed! My eyes have ached for the last half hour with trying to see
you; and half my eye-strings are cracked with looking from so great a
distance."
Marion was now seriously annoyed, and a glow of indignant vexation
mantled upon her cheek; but Captain De Crespigny, mistaking her blushes
and silence, began to flatter himself that the fortress was not so
impregnable as he had feared. A scrap of paper lay on the table, which
Marion had carelessly flung aside, after trying a pen, by writing down
several times her own Christian name, and Captain De Crespigny having
picked it up, laughingly added to it the name of De Crespigny.
"How does this look?" asked he, showing her the signature of "Marion De
Crespigny," while a gleam of light shot through his dark eye-lashes.
"This is a valuable autograph, which I shall certainly preserve. The
signature is not yet a common one, but I hope it may become so, as no
other looks half so well to my eye--or to my heart."
"There may be another that I should very much prefer," replied Marion,
decidedly, while the bright carnation mounted to her cheek, and she
turned her large eyes towards Agnes, who stood at some distance placid
and secure, in the certain belief that her own supremacy was
established, and that the conversation probably related to herself.
"Give me back that paper, Captain De Crespigny, for it contains a
mischievous forgery--a name that can never exist upon the earth."
"But it may in fairy-land, and it shall!" replied he, with undaunted
pertinacity. "The fates are perpetually weaving people together, and
may do something for me! When we are unwillingly separated for a short
period, sometime hereafter, I shall every day see this name appended to
the most interesting accounts of your garden, your lap-dog, and----"
"And my sister!" added Marion, coldly. "She is always the first object
of interest to me. Agnes! do come here and admire the last few stitches
I have added to this bible-cover."
"How well it will look at Beaujolie Park!" muttered De Crespigny,
almost inaudibly, in that low musical voice which had been
irresistible, and with a significance of manner which Marion seemed not
to remark. "I hope one day to see it there."
"I intend it as a present to Agnes," replied Marion, dryly.--"That and
the prayer-book are both for her dressing-table."
Captain De Crespigny, assuming a look of respectful despondency,
examined the volumes during several minutes in silence; but having
accidentally opened the service of matrimony, he smilingly pointed it
out to Marion, saying, "he hoped this might be considered a good omen,"
and doubling down the page, he placed the prayer-book opposite to her,
saying, "Let me request you will study that till we meet again, as I
wish to ask your opinion of it."
Before Marion had time to reply, or to hurry away, as she had been for
some time projecting, Agnes advanced with an air of exceedingly forced
vivacity, while there was a perceptible flutter of anger in her tone,
and Marion felt as much confused as if she had been guilty of a real
indiscretion, when she saw that her sister's face had become as white
as the wall, her eyes glassy, and her manner unusually excited, though
she tried to assume a careless tone, saying:
"What is all the world talking about here? Captain De Crespigny, you
must have learned the whole mysteries of worsted work by this time!"
"I was merely showing your sister that most interesting of all
compositions, the marriage service," replied Captain De Crespigny,
throwing as much meaning into his voice as it could carry, "and
mentioning that the fashionable blacksmith for these occasions now is
my cousin, the Dean of Chester."
Agnes looked down with an interesting blush, and Marion looked up with
a start of astonishment, at the hardened intrepidity of manner in which
Captain De Crespigny carried on his double game, adapting his tone
equally to suit either or both of his companions; and it was with a
sensation of extreme relief that she saw him at last rise to take
leave, looking most charmingly distressed; but he had glanced at his
watch, "never being able to measure time at St. John's Lodge," and an
unlucky engagement obliged him to depart.
"All engagements are unlucky," observed Agnes, impatiently. "I never
made one yet, without afterwards finding it a tyrannical restraint."
"There is only one engagement I ever wish to make," replied Captain De
Crespigny, in a sentimental voice, but carefully looking at nobody. "I
hope soon to make an engagement for life!"
"What is all this!" exclaimed Sir Patrick, entering the room. "Can De
Crespigny not be persuaded into remaining with you two or three hours
longer, girls?"
"We have not yet tried the experiment," replied Marion, seeing Agnes
unwilling to speak. "I intend to be busy this morning reading your
favorite character in Shakespeare, Malvolio. He had the very common
fault of over-estimating himself."
"To some people that is impracticable!" replied Captain De Crespigny,
with a self-satisfied smile. "The world really spoils me for one."
"Perhaps," observed Sir Patrick, "you flatter yourself, and that is the
most dangerous of all flattery."
"Not to me! I only wish it were possible for me to think as much of
myself as every body else does."
"I hear old Doncaster is likely to make a die of it soon; therefore
wait till you are established at Beaujolie Park, and then you shall see
how much we all think of you!" replied Sir Patrick, laughing. "I hope
you mean to be the most hospitable Marquis in the whole peerage of
England?"
"Most undoubtedly! Hospitality is my weakness, if I have any! Dunbar,
my very dear friend, I make a point of your coming to dine with me once
a-year at Beaujolie Park! I am sorry it will not be in my power to
offer you a bed; but the Highflyer passes my door at nine every
evening. I wish for a very long visit from you! We are old friends, my
good fellow! so I must really stretch a point! I am quite serious!
therefore come by the early mail for breakfast, and take the evening
one for your departure! I always was, and always shall be the most
hospitable man upon earth! Have you half a moment to spare to-morrow? I
want you to help me in my bargain for a bay horse with Duncombe of
ours. He has the prettiest sister in the world, if that will be any
inducement to come. I wish he would throw her into the bargain! Good
morning! I could not stay a minute longer to save all your lives!"
"How I do sometimes hate Captain De Crespigny!" exclaimed Agnes, with
angry vehemence, after he had made a very conceited exit from her
presence, accompanied by Sir Patrick, while she watched him from the
window, as he sprang upon his horse, and galloped out of sight. "I know
he is perfectly devoted to me! I cannot allow myself to doubt it! My
whole happiness in life is cast on that die, and must not be lost! No!"
continued she, speaking to Marion in a tone of unwonted perplexity, "it
would indeed be a disgraceful triumph, to awaken in my heart affections
which, if they must die, I shall die with them. My hopes and feelings
appear all frozen into icicles this morning; yet I can scarcely tell
why! A sensation of utter discouragement torments me! What is man, and
what is woman that trusts him? If all my happiness is now torn up by
the roots, I shall never again incur the grief of forming any earthly
plan! I shall continue for life a bankrupt in hope and peace! Do not
speak to me, Marion! Do not look as if you believed the worst! I will
not hear it! I know you wish to say and do all that is kind; but I
detest sympathy! I abhor being pitied! and I will not be advised."
Even after she had retired to the gloomy solitude of her lonely room,
Agnes buried her face in her hands, as if she would hide herself from
the whole world, and struggled to banish thought; yet the suspicion
would force itself into her mind, that Captain De Crespigny intended to
treat her as she had seen him treat others; and though formerly she had
often laughed at the credulity of those girls who believed half the
rubbish he talked to them, now she repeated to herself all his
professions of admiration, his looks, smiles, innuendoes, implied
flattery, and openly expressed interest, till her cheek regained its
bloom, her eyes their brightness, and she looked into her mirror with
perfectly restored self-complacency, and with renovated confidence in
the truth, honor, and sincerity of Captain De Crespigny.