DR. RYLANCE ASSERTS HIMSELF.
The luncheon under Evelyn's tree took a cooler shade from Dr. Rylance's
presence than from the far-reaching branches of the cedar. His politeness
made the whole business different from what it would have been without
him.
Blanche and the boys, accustomed to abandon themselves to frantic
joviality at any outdoor feast of their own contriving, now withdrew into
the background, and established themselves behind the trunk of the tree,
in which retirement they kept up an insane giggling, varied by low and
secret discourse, and from which shelter they issued forth stealthily,
one by one, to pounce with crafty hands upon the provisions. These
unmannerly proceedings were ignored by the elders, but they exercised a
harassing influence upon poor little Eva, who had been told to sit
quietly by Bessie, and who watched her brothers' raids with round-eyed
wonder, and listened with envious ears to that distracting laughter
behind the tree.
'Did you see Horry take quite half the cake, just now?' she whispered to
Bessie, in the midst of a polite conversation about nothing particular.
And anon she murmured in horrified wonder, after a stolen peep behind the
tree, 'Reg is taking off Dr. Rylance.'
The grown-up luncheon party was not lively. Tongue and chicken,
pigeon-pie, cheese-cakes, tarts, cake, fruit--all had been neatly spread
upon a tablecloth laid on the soft turf. Nothing had been forgotten.
There were plates and knives and forks enough for everybody--picnicking
being a business thoroughly well understood at The Knoll; but there was a
good deal wanting in the guests.
Ida was thoughtful, Urania obviously sullen, Bessie amiably stupid; but
Dr. Rylance appeared to think that they were all enjoying themselves
intensely.
'Now this is what I call really delightful,' he said, as he poured out
the sparkling Devonshire cider with as stately a turn of his wrist as if
the liquor had been Cliquot or Roederer. 'An open-air luncheon on such a
day as this is positively inspiring, and to a man who has breakfasted at
seven o'clock on a cup of tea and a morsel of dry toast--thanks, yes, I
prefer the wing if no one else will have it--such an unceremonious meal
is doubly welcome. I'm so glad I found you. Lucky, wasn't it, Ranie?'
He smiled at his daughter, as if deprecating that stolid expression of
hers, which would have been eminently appropriate to the funeral of an
indifferent acquaintance,--a total absence of all feeling, a grave
nullity.
'I don't see anything lucky in so simple a fact,' answered Urania. 'You
were told we had come here, and you came here after us.'
'You might have changed your minds at the last moment and gone somewhere
else. Might you not, now, Miss Palliser?'
'Yes, if we had been very frivolous people; but as to-day's exploration
of the Abbey was planned last night, it would have indicated great
weakness of mind if we had been tempted into any other direction,'
answered Ida, feeling somewhat sorry for Dr. Rylance.
The coldest heart might compassionate a man cursed in such a disagreeable
daughter.
'I am very glad you were not weak-minded, and that I was so fortunate as
to find you,' said the doctor, addressing himself henceforward
exclusively to Ida and her friend.
Bessie took care of his creature-comforts with a matronly hospitality
which sat well upon her. She cut thin slices of tongue, she fished out
savouriest bits of pigeon and egg, when he passed, by a natural
transition, from chicken to pie. She was quite distressed because he did
not care for tarts or cake. But the doctor's appetite, unlike that of the
young people on the other side of the cedar, had its limits. He had
satisfied his hunger long before they had, and was ready to show Miss
Palliser the gardens.
'They are fine old gardens,' he said, approvingly. 'Perhaps their chief
beauty is that they have not a single modern improvement. They are as
old-fashioned as the gardens of Sion Abbey, before the good queen Bess
ousted the nuns to make room for the Percies.'
They all rose and walked slowly away from the cedar, leaving the
fragments of the feast to Blanche and her three brothers. Eva stayed
behind, to make one of that exuberant group, and to see Reg 'take off'
Urania and her father. His mimicry was cordially admired, though it was
not always clear to his audience which was the doctor and which was his
daughter. A stare, a strut, a toss, an affected drawl were the leading
features of each characterization.
'I had no opportunity of congratulating you on your triumphs the other
day, Miss Palliser,' said Dr. Rylance, who had somehow managed that Ida
and he should be side by side, and a little in advance of the other two.
'But, believe me, I most heartily sympathized with you in the delight of
your success.'
'Delight?' echoed Ida. 'Do you think there was any real pleasure for me
in receiving a gift from the hands of Miss Pew, who has done all she
could do to make me feel the disadvantages of my position, from the day I
first entered her house to the day I last left it? The prizes gave me no
pleasure. They have no value in my mind, except as an evidence that I
have made the most of my opportunities at Mauleverer, in spite of my
contempt for my schoolmistress.'
'You dislike her intensely, I see.'
'She has made me dislike her. I never knew unkindness till I knew her. I
never felt the sting of poverty till she made me feel all its sharpness.
I never knew that I was steeped in sinful pride until she humiliated me.'
'Your days of honour and happiness will come, said the doctor, 'days when
you will think no more of Miss Pew than of an insect which once stung
you.'
'Thank you for the comforting forecast,' answered Ida, lightly. 'But it
is easy to prophesy good fortune.'
'Easy, and safe, in such a case as yours. I can sympathize with you
better than you may suppose, Miss Palliser. I have had to fight my
battle. I was not always Dr. Rylance, of Cavendish Square; and I did not
enter a world in which there was a fine estate waiting for me, like the
owner of this place.'
'But you have conquered fortune, and by your own talents,' said Ida.
'That must be a proud thought.'
Dr. Rylance, who was not utterly without knowledge of himself, smiled at
the compliment. He knew it was by tact and address, smooth speech and
clean linen, that he had conquered fortune, rather than by shining
abilities. Yet he valued himself not the less on that account. In his
mind tact ranked higher than genius, since it was his own peculiar gift:
just as blue ginger-jars were better than Sevres, because he, Dr.
Rylance, was a collector of ginger-jars. He approved of himself so
completely that even his littlenesses were great in his own eyes.
'I have worked hard,' he said, complacently, 'and I have been patient.
But now, when my work is done, and my place in the world fixed, I begin
to find life somewhat barren. A man ought to reap some reward--something
fairer and sweeter than pounds, shillings, and pence, for a life of
labour and care.'
'No doubt,' assented Ida, receiving this remark as abstract philosophy,
rather than as having a personal meaning. 'But I think I should consider
pounds, shillings, and pence a very fair reward, if I only had enough of
them.'
'Yes, now, when you are smarting under the insolence of a purse-proud
schoolmistress; but years hence, when you have won independence, you will
feel disappointed if you have won nothing better.'
'What could be better?'
'Sympathetic companionship--a love worthy to influence your life.'
Ida looked up at the doctor with naïve surprise. Good heavens, was this
middle-aged gentleman going to drop into sentiment, as Silas Wegg dropped
into poetry? She glanced back at the other two. Happily they were close
at hand.
'What have you done with the children, Bessie?' asked Ida, as if she were
suddenly distracted with anxiety about their fate.
'Left them to their own devices. I hope they will not quite kill
themselves. We are all to meet in the stable yard at four, so that we may
be with Aunt Betsy at five.'
'Don't you think papa and I had better walk gently home?' suggested
Urania; 'I am sure it would be cruel to inflict such an immense party
upon Miss Wendover.'
'Nonsense,' exclaimed Bessie. 'Why, if all old Pew's school was to march
in upon her, without a moment's notice Aunt Betsy would not be put out of
the way one little bit. If Queen Victoria were to drop in unexpectedly to
luncheon, my aunt would be as cool as one of her own early cucumbers, and
would insist on showing the Queen her stables, and possibly her pigs.'
'How do you know that?' asked Ida.
'Because she never had a visitor yet whom she did not drag into her
stables, from archbishops downwards; and I don't suppose she'd draw the
line at a queen,' answered Bessie, with conviction.
'I am going to drink tea with Miss Wendover, whatever Urania may do,'
said Dr. Rylance, who felt that the time had come when he must assert
himself. 'I am out for a day's pleasure, and I mean to drink the cup to
the dregs.'
Urania looked at her father with absolute consternation. He was
transformed; he had become a new person; he was forgetting himself in a
ridiculous manner; letting down his dignity to an alarming extent. Dr.
Rylance, the fashionable physician, the man whose nice touch adjusted the
nerves of the aristocracy, to disport himself with unkempt, bare-handed
young Wendovers! It was an upheaval of things which struck horror to
Urania's soul. Easy, after beholding such a moral convulsion, to believe
that the Wight had once been part of the mainland; or even that Ireland
had originally been joined to Spain.
They all roamed into the rose-garden, where there were alleys of standard
rose-trees, planted upon grass that was soft and springy under the foot.
They went into the old vineries, where the big bunches of grapes were
purpling in the gentle heat. Dr. Rylance went everywhere, and he
contrived always to be near Ida Palliser.
He did not again lapse into sentiment, and he made himself fairly
agreeable, in his somewhat stilted fashion. Ida accepted his attention
with a charming unconsciousness; but she was perfectly conscious of
Urania's vexation, and that gave a zest to the whole thing.
'Well, Ida, what do you think of Kingthorpe Abbey?' asked Bessie, when
they had seen everything, even to the stoats and weasles, and various
vermin nailed flat against the stable wall, and were waiting for Robin to
be harnessed.
'It is a noble old place. It is simply perfect. I wonder your cousin can
live away from it.'
'Oh, Brian's chief delight is in roaming about the world. The Abbey is
thrown away upon him. He ought to have been an explorer or a missionary.
However, he is expected home in a month, and you will be able to judge
for yourself whether he deserves to be master of this old place. I only
wish it belonged to the other Brian.'
'The other Brian is your favourite.'
'He is ever so much nicer than his cousin--at least, the children and I
like him best. My father swears by the head of the house.'
'I think I would rather accept the Colonel's judgment than yours, Bess,'
said Ida. 'You are so impulsive in your likings.'
'Don't say that I am wanting in judgment,' urged Bessie, coaxingly, 'for
you know how dearly I love you. You will see the two Brians, I hope,
before your holidays are over; and then you can make your own selection.
Brian Walford will be with us for my birthday picnic, I daresay, wherever
he may be now. I believe he is mooning away his time in Herefordshire,
with his mother's people.'
'Is his father dead?'
'Yes, mother and father both, ages ago, in the days when I was a
hard-hearted little wretch, and thought it a treat to go into mourning,
and rather nice to be able to tell everybody, "Uncle Walford's dead. He
had a fit, and he never speaked any more." It was news, you know, and in
a village that goes for something.'
After a lengthy discussion, and some squabbling, it was decided that the
children were to have the benefit of the jaunting-car for the homeward
journey, and that Dr. Rylance and the three young ladies were to walk,
attended by Reginald, who insisted upon attaching himself to their
service, volunteering to show them the very nearest way through a wood,
and across a field, and over a common, and down a lane, which led
straight to the gate of Aunt Betsy's orchard.
Urania wore fashionable boots, and considered walking exercise a
superstition of medical men and old-fashioned people; yet she stoutly
refused a seat in the car.
'No, thanks, Horatio; I know your pony too well. I'd rather trust myself
upon my own feet.'
'There's more danger in your high heels than in my pony, retorted
Horatio. 'I shouldn't wonder if you dropped in for a sprained ankle
before you got home.'
Urania risked the sprained ankle. She began to limp before she had
emerged from the wood. She hobbled painfully along the rugged footpath
between the yellow wheat. She was obliged to sit down and rest upon a
furzy hillock on the common, good-natured Bess keeping her company, while
Ida and Reginald were half a mile ahead with Dr. Rylance. Her delicate
complexion was unbecomingly flushed by the time she and Bessie arrived
wearily at the little gate opening into Miss Wendover's orchard.
There were only some iron hurdles between Aunt Betsy's orchard and the
lawn before Aunt Betsy's drawing-room. The house was characteristic of
the lady. It was a long red-brick cottage, solid, substantial, roomy,
eschewing ornament, but beautified in the eyes of most people by an air
of supreme comfort, cleanliness, and general well-being. In all
Kingthorpe there were no rooms so cool as Aunt Betsy's in summer--none so
warm in winter. The cottage had originally been the homestead of a small
grass-farm, which had been bequeathed to Betsy Wendover by her father,
familiarly known as the Old Squire, the chief landowner in that part of
the country. With this farm of about two hundred and fifty acres of the
most fertile pasture land in Hampshire and an income of seven hundred a
year from consols, Miss Wendover found herself passing rich. She built a
drawing-room with wide windows opening on to the lawn, and a bed-room
with a covered balcony over the drawing-room. These additional rooms made
the homestead all-sufficient for a lady of Aunt Betsy's simple habits.
She was hospitality itself, receiving her friends in a large-hearted,
gentleman-like style, keeping open house for man and beast, proud of her
wine, still prouder of her garden and greenhouses, proudest of her
stables; fond of this life, and of her many comforts, yet without a
particle of selfishness; ready to leave her cosy fireside at a moment's
notice on the bitterest winter night, to go and nurse a sick child, or
comfort a dying woman; religious without ostentation, charitable without
weakness, stern to resent an injury, implacable against an insult.
A refreshing sight, yet not altogether a pleasant one for Miss Rylance,
met the eyes of the two young ladies as they neared the little iron gate
opening from the orchard to the lawn. A couple of tea-tables had been
brought out upon the grass before the drawing-room window. The youngsters
were busily engaged at one table, Blanche pouring out tea, while her
brothers and small sister made havoc with cake and fruit, home-made bread
and butter, and jams of various hues. At the other table, less lavishly
but more elegantly furnished, sat Miss Wendover and Ida Palliser, with
Dr. Rylance comfortably established in a Buckinghamshire wickerwork chair
between them.
'Does not that look a picture of comfort?' exclaimed Bessie.
'My father seems to be making himself very comfortable,' said Urania.
She hobbled across the lawn, and sank exhausted into a low chair, near
her parent.
'My poor child, how dilapidated you look after your walk,' said Dr.
Rylance; 'Miss Palliser and I enjoyed it immensely.'
'I cannot boast of Miss Palliser's robust health,' retorted Urania
contemptuously, as if good health were a sign of vulgarity. 'I had my
neuralgia all last night.'
Whenever the course of events proved objectionable, Miss Rylance took
refuge in a complaint which she called her neuralgia, indicating that it
was a species of disorder peculiar to herself, and of a superior quality
to everybody else's neuralgia.
'You should live in the open air, like my sunburnt young friends yonder,'
said the doctor, with a glance at the table where the young Wendovers
were stuffing themselves; 'I am sure they never complain of neuralgia.'
Urania looked daggers but spoke none.
It was a wearisome afternoon for that injured young lady. Dr. Rylance
dawdled over his tea, handed teacups and bread and butter, was assiduous
with the sugar basin, devoted with the cream jug, talked and laughed with
Miss Palliser, as if they had a world of ideas in common, and made
himself altogether objectionable to his only child.
By-and-by, when there was a general adjournment to the greenhouses and
stables, Urania contrived to slip her arm through her father's.
'I thought I told you that Miss Palliser was my favourite aversion,
papa,' she said, tremulous with angry feeling.
'I have some faint idea that you did express yourself unfavourably about
her,' answered the doctor, with his consulting-room urbanity, 'but I am
at a loss to understand your antipathy. The girl is positively charming,
as frank as the sunshine, and full of brains.'
'I know her. You do not,' said Urania tersely.
'My dear, it is the speciality of men in my profession to make rapid
judgments.'
'Yes, and very often to make them wrong. I was never so much annoyed in
my life. I consider your attention to that girl a deliberate insult to
me; a girl with whom I never could get on--who has said the rudest things
to me.'
'Can I be uncivil to a friend of your friend Bessie?'
'There is a wide distance between being uncivil and being obsequiously,
ridiculously attentive.'
'Urania,' said the doctor in his gravest voice, 'I have allowed you to
have your own way in most things, and I believe your life has been a
pleasant one.'
'Of course, papa. I never said otherwise.'
'Very well, my dear, then you must be good enough to let me take my own
way of making life pleasant to myself, and you must not take upon
yourself to dictate what degree of civility I am to show to Miss
Palliser, or to any other lady.'
Urania held her peace after this. It was the first deliberate snub she
had ever received from her father, and she added it to her lengthy score
against Ida.