This was how it all began; how it went on was more than anyone could
say, certainly not John himself, who woke up one morning to feel himself
an engaged man with a more startled sensation than words could express.
He knew that it was all right; that Letitia had been everything that was
nice and proper, and had even spoken humbly of her own merits as not
good enough for such a distinguished person as himself; but what were
the steps that lead up to it, or how it had come about, John could give
no clear account. He spoke of the incident with a kind of awe. How it
happened, or what had come to pass before it happened, was something too
great for him, which he could not follow; but from the very first moment
he was aware that it was, and could neither be got rid of nor explained
away. John was not a very triumphant lover. He was a little subdued
indeed, scarcely knowing how to announce it to his friends; but Letitia
took it upon her instantly to bear his burdens, and it was she who told
Lady Sillinger, who told everybody, and so that matter was got over. I
do not mean to say that it was all settled during the Doncaster week at
the Sillingers; for however Letitia might have felt, John could never
have been got to be so prompt as that. But another benevolent lady who
saw how the tide was turning, and who thought it a great pity that a
girl should not have her chance, invited Letitia and also John, who
happened to have no other pressing engagement, and in a fortnight more
great things were done. I have said before that he never could tell how
it was, but he very soon came to understand that it was all settled, and
that it necessitated a great many other arrangements. One of them was
the conversation with Lord Frogmore with which this story began. John
Parke was still a little dazed and overawed by the great event when he
informed his brother, and the manner in which Lord Frogmore at first
received his confidence at once bewildered and disconcerted him. But
afterwards everything came right, and the arrangements made were
satisfactory in every way. Lord Frogmore paid his brother’s debts. He
gave Miss Ravelstone a very handsome wedding present, and he made such
an allowance as became the conditions and expectations of his heir. He
did, indeed, everything that could have been expected in the
circumstances. He did not say “I shall never marry, and of course you
will have everything when I am gone,” which Letitia thought he ought to
have said, considering everything; but he acted exactly as if he had
said this. You do not make your younger brother an allowance of three
thousand a year unless your intentions towards him are of the most
decided character; nor, indeed, was it in the least probable that
anything could come to snatch the cup from John Parke’s lips.
When the time came for the wedding it was discovered by all parties that
Grocombe was too far off among the fells--too much out of order, too
bare, and--in a word--too shabby for such a performance. Letitia had
felt this from the very first moment, and had been strongly conscious of
it when she wrote to Lady Sillinger on the very evening on which the
engagement took place. She had told her kind friend that she was the
happiest girl in the world, and that nobody knew how much there was in
John; but even at that early period when she had said something modestly
of her lover’s ardor and desire to have the marriage soon, she added:
“But oh! dear Lady Sillinger, when I think of Grocombe and old Mr. Hill,
our vicar, my heart sinks. How can I ever--ever be married there?”
As Lady Sillinger entered with great enthusiasm into a marriage which
she might be said to have made, Miss Ravelstone had many opportunities
of repeating this sentiment, and the conclusion of all was that this
kind-hearted woman invited her young friend to be married from Cuppland
if she pleased. “It will be such fun for the children,” Lady Sillinger
said. It was therefore amid all the surroundings of a great house that
Lord Frogmore first saw his brother’s bride. John did not ask any
questions as to the impression Letitia had made. He had a dull kind of
sense that it might be better to ask no questions. He was not himself at
all deceived about her appearance, nor did he expect his friends to
admire her. He took the absence of all enthusiasm on their part with
judicious calm. He was not himself enthusiastic, but he had a sober
satisfaction in the consciousness that his income was more than doubled,
and that he was likely to be very comfortable until the time should come
when Frogmore would in the course of nature die. And then, of course, he
knew very well what the succession would be. Letitia knew it too. She
had read a hundred times over every detail in the paragraph. She managed
to get a copy of the county history and study everything that was known
about the family of the Parkes and their possessions. She had even
managed to find an old dressmaker who had once been maid to one of the
ladies of the family, and who told her about the jewels which must
eventually be hers. By dint of industry and constant questioning Letitia
had discovered everything about the Parkes before she became one of
them. And it was all very satisfactory--more so to her, perhaps, than to
any other of the family. John’s mother was not at all pleased, but what
did it matter about that? She was only the Dowager, and, except so far
as her own little savings were concerned, had no power.
When Lord Frogmore first saw his sister-in-law she was in all the
importance and excitement of a young lady on the eve of marriage
surrounded by dressmakers and by presents. The dressmakers were many and
obsequious, the presents were few and did not make a very great show.
This was got over, however, by the explanation that most of her wedding
gifts had been sent to Grocombe, and that the show at Cuppland was only
accidental, not contributed by her old family friends, by whom, of
course, the most important were sure to be supplied. The head of the
family of the Parkes, when he was asked into Lady Sillinger’s boudoir to
make acquaintance with his sister-in-law, had a small packet in his
hand, to which he saw her eyes turn almost before she looked at himself.
Her eyes were light, and not very bright by nature, but there was a glow
in them as they shot that glance at the packet in his hand. Did she
think it was but a small packet? Lord Frogmore could not help asking
himself. The jeweller’s box, which he carried done up in silver paper,
thus became the chief and first thought on both sides. Letitia was in a
pale pink dress which was not becoming to her. It made her thin hair and
colorless complexion more colorless than ever. It threw up the faint
flush on the tip of her nose. She rose quickly, and came forward
holding out her hand, and rising suggestively on her toes. Did she mean
to kiss him? the old gentleman asked himself, which was certainly what
Letitia meant to do; but in such a salutation in such circumstances the
initiative should at least be taken by the elderly brother-in-law, not
by the bride. She stood suspended, however, for a moment, as it were in
the air, with that expectation, and then resumed her seat with a little
shake out of her draperies like a ruffled bird.
“I am very glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Ravelstone,” said Lord
Frogmore.
“Oh, I am sure so am I,” said Letitia. “Dear John’s brother.”
She simpered and held down her head a little, while Lord Frogmore did
not know whether to laugh or be angry. He was not accustomed to this way
of stating the relationship.
“Yes, to be sure dear John is my brother,” he said, “and as I don’t
doubt you are going to make him a very happy man, the family will all be
much indebted to you, Miss Ravelstone. In view of the coming event I
have brought my little offering.” He began to open it out, fumbling at
the string in a way which was very tantalizing to Letitia, who would
have liked to pounce upon it and take it out of his hand.
“Let me cut it,” she said, producing scissors from the dressmaker’s box
which was on the table, and once more her eyes gave a gleam enough to
set that troublesome paper on fire.
“Thank you, but I like to save the string,” said the old peer. He felt
himself, however, though he rather liked to tantalize her, that all this
delay would make his present look still unimportant in her eyes. It was
a pearl necklace with a pendant of pearls and diamonds, and it had in
reality cost him a good deal, and was more valuable than Letitia
thought. She drew a long breath when it was at last disclosed.
“Oh!” she said (adding within herself “it’s not diamonds after all.”)
“Oh, how very pretty; oh, how sweetly pretty; oh, what a delightful
little necklace. Oh, Lord Frogmore, it looks like someone younger and
much, much prettier than me.”
“I am very glad you like it,” said Lord Frogmore.
“Oh, Lord Frogmore, any girl would like it. I am sure it is quite
beautiful. I thought married ladies didn’t wear pearls; but only just to
keep in the box and look at it would do one good. It is the loveliest
little thing I ever saw.”
“You are mistaken I am sure about the married ladies, Miss Ravelstone.”
“Am I?” she said, looking up at him with engaging candor, “I am so
inexperienced I don’t know, but someone told me so; dull stones for
girls and bright ones for married ladies is what I was told; but I
daresay that was all wrong and you know best----”
“I really don’t know what you mean by dull stones,” said Lord Frogmore
stiffly.
“Oh, I mean pearls and torquoises and such things, and the others are
rubies and emeralds and diamonds; but I don’t at all understand such
questions, I only know they are lovely. How am I to thank you, Lord
Frogmore?”
“I am quite sufficiently thanked if you are pleased, Miss Ravelstone.”
“Oh, but that is so cold,” said Letitia. “I know what I should do if it
was my father, or my uncle, or any old friend. But when it is Lord
Frogmore----” She stopped with the same arrested motion which had
startled him so when they had first met. Decidedly the girl meant to
kiss him. He started rather abruptly to his feet and made her a very
elaborate bow.
“I am more than repaid, Miss Ravelstone, if you are good enough to be
pleased with my little present,” he said.
“Oh! please call me Letitia--at least,” said the too affectionate bride.
If Lady Sillinger had not come forward at this moment to relieve the
strain of the situation by boundless praise and admiration of the
necklace, Frogmore did not know to what extremities he might have been
driven. He withdrew as soon as he could without any demonstrations of
tenderness--and hurrying through the suite of rooms came, to his
confusion, upon Lady Frogmore, his stepmother, John’s mother, a woman a
little younger than himself, and of whom he had always been a little
afraid. She was very large, as so many ladies become in their maturity,
and had a way of constantly fanning herself, which was disturbing to
most men and to her stepson most of all. But as they had naturally
perceived each other some way off there was no avoiding an encounter.
The dowager Lady Frogmore had a voice not unlike a policeman’s rattle,
and as she spoke her large bosom heaved as if with the effort to bring
it forth.
“Well, Frogmore,” she said, “you have been paying your respects to the
bride?”
“I have indeed,” he replied, with much gravity, and a nervous glance
behind him.
“You look, my dear Frogmore, as if you were running away.”
“Something like it, I don’t deny. I--I thought she would have kissed
me,” he said, with a burst of feeling. It might have seemed comical to
some people, but it was not at all comical to Lord Frogmore.
The dowager Lady Frogmore stopped fanning herself. “She kissed me,” she
said, in sepulchral tones; “actually got up upon her toes, and, before I
knew what she was about, kissed me. I never was so taken by surprise in
my life. If there is any kissing to be done it is the family, certainly,
that should begin.”
“That is quite my opinion,” said Frogmore; “but I suppose she means it
for the best.”
Lady Frogmore shook her head. She shook it so long and so persistently
that the flowers upon her bonnet began to shed little bits of feather
and tinsel. “Frogmore,” she said, solemnly, “mark my words. She will
lead John a life!”
“Let’s hope not,” said his brother.
“Oh! don’t tell me. Men never understand. She will lead him a life.”
“At all events it is his own doing,” said Frogmore.
“I don’t believe it is his own doing. He could not give me a rational
account of it when I asked him. I believe she’s a scheming minx, and
this Lady Sillinger’s a designing woman.”
“What good will it do her? She’s got daughters of her own.”
“That is just the danger of it,” said Lady Frogmore, nodding her head.
“If it had been one of her own daughters I would not have said a word.
Her own daughters are well enough, but this girl! My poor dear John has
been made a victim, Frogmore. He has been made a victim. I wish he had
broken his leg or something before he came to this house.”
“Nonsense,” said Lord Frogmore, “he might have met her anywhere else as
well as in this house.”
“It’s all a deep laid scheme,” continued the dowager, behind her fan.
“What that woman has against my poor dear John I can’t tell, but it is
she that has done it. And mark my words, Frogmore----”
“How many more words am I to mark,” said Frogmore peevishly--then he
added, in the freedom of close relationship: “All you say about poor
Lady Sillinger is the merest nonsense. She’s as good a woman as ever
lived.”
“Mark my words, Frogmore,” repeated the dowager, “that girl will never
rest till she has got you out of the way.”
“Me!” he laughed, “set your mind at rest,” he said, “I am not in her way
at all. She means to make a friend of me.”
“She’ll make a friend of you, and then she’ll make you something quite
different. She will never be happy,” said Lady Frogmore, “till she has
got us all out of the way.”
“Oh! come, come! We don’t live in the fourteenth century,” Frogmore
said.
And next day, notwithstanding all these prognostications of harm, John
and Letitia were married, and set off for their honeymoon. And whatever
her intentions might be there was no longer any possibility of shutting
out the Honorable Mrs. John Parke from the amenities of the family. She
was kissed. She was blessed. Old slippers were flung after her, and if
she had been the most desirable wife in the world, no more could have
been done by the family to put the best face upon this event before the
eyes of a too quick-sighted world.