COUSIN GWENNY.
Great contentment and supreme happiness reigned at Willowdean, where
long consultations were held by the gentlemen concerning Chesters,
who had suddenly taken his departure to London. They had doubts of
what to do, for suspicion was not proof, and Cyril had to conceal the
espionage practised on himself at Lonewoodlee, and that jealousy had
aught to do with the supposed treacherous trick played to his horse.
Hence the whole affair seemed inexplicable to his father, his
brother, and cousin, till in Cyril's mind there stole a kind of
cloudy doubt even of Chesters' guilt.
"Could it be possible," he asked of himself, "that he could conceive
and carry out a scheme so singularly infamous against an unsuspecting
guest?"
For the next day or two, Cyril found some difficulty in keeping his
appointments with Mary, for his doting mother could scarcely trust
her tall, curly-pated and heavily-moustached captain of Fusileers out
of her sight, she had so much to ask and to learn: and nobly were the
poor skipper of Angus and the four fishermen of his smack rewarded.
Cyril, however, wrote little notes to Mary, making his excuses, and
expressing his love for her; and such notes were a great solace to
her in her loneliness at home.
How trivial now seemed the adoption of mourning for Uncle William;
the suits of black for the family and servants, the note-paper and
cards with sable edges and crests, when compared with the gloom of
such preparations for the loss of the heir of Willowdean!
Cyril knew that of course he was his father's heir; and that if God
and the Russian bullets spared him in the expected war, he might in
time become the Baronet of Willowdean; but with all his interest,
personal and sentimental, in the old family estate, he felt bored
when his father talked to him, as country gentlemen will talk, of the
probable appearance of the crops and the face of the country, of the
farm and pasture land, of top dressing, subsoil, and tile drainage,
especially for the lower meadows and three great fields of the
home-farm; the weight of pigs. "By Jove," Cyril would mentally
exclaim, "the weight of pigs!"
He could feel an interest when the county pack was on the _tapis_, or
when he heard that the covers would require looking to; the patent
powder to feed the pheasants; the rooting out of weasels and
foumarts; of the new stables, and so forth; but never in agriculture,
which, in all its branches, he viewed and voted as an unqualified
bore. Hunting after a night poacher, who occasionally visited the
home-farm in "the glimpses of the moon," was more in Cyril's way than
the alternation of green or white crops, and so forth; but his
thoughts, if not with the regiment, were ever at Lonewoodlee.
Horace Ramornie felt some interest in Sir John's topics, for though
he had not an acre of land, he repined occasionally at the loss of
the old patrimonial estates of his family, and felt somewhat too
keenly his dependence on his uncle.
Lady Wedderburn was now intent apparently on the arrangements
necessary for the reception of the expected ward; but the chief
thought of her mind was obvious to all, and she could not avoid
recurring to it whenever she and Sir John were alone.
"I know that Cyril cannot quit his regiment with honour just now,
when it has got letters of readiness," said she, on one occasion;
"but, dear Sir John, I should so like him to sell out, and reside
quietly at home. He is not obliged to pursue his career as a
soldier, like Horace, who is penniless."
"Quit!" repeated Wedderburn, testily, "I should think not. Quit on
the eve of a war! I would rather see the lad in his coffin than
taunted with showing the white feather."
"In three days Gwenny will be here, and if she is so handsome as
Doctor Chutnay of Madras assures us she is, she must be charming!
And if Cyril must go soon, I should wish--wish that he were married,
or at least, solemnly contracted to her. You understand me,
Wedderburn?"
"Why such hasty hopes and plans, Kate?"
"Because, as I have already hinted, some one else may marry her, and
it would be an act of injustice to Cyril and ourselves to permit all
her wealth to pass out of the family. Besides, our neighbour
Chesters, every way a bad style of man, may see and admire her, with
views of his own."
"If he ever should meet her, which after recent events I think barely
probable," said Sir John, somewhat angrily.
"Then there is the Master of Ernescleugh." "I don't envy your task as
_chaperon_," said Sir John, laughing; "you will be in dread of every
young fellow in the county! But suppose that the girl may have been
foolish enough to fall in love with some enterprising subaltern on
the overland route home--we hear of such results every day--some
fellow in whose pleasant society she has been cast by sea and land
for a month or more? She may come here engaged; married, perhaps!"
The bare suggestion of such a catastrophe filled Lady Wedderburn with
unutterable dismay; all the more easily, perhaps, that the same fear
had occurred to herself.
The three days glided away. By the evening train Miss Gwendoleyne
Wedderburn was expected to arrive from London; and Cyril, who had not
seen Mary Lennox for four consecutive days, resolved to take
advantage of the incidental bustle at home to ride over to
Lonewoodlee for an hour after dinner; but just as Gervase Asloane was
removing the cloth, and placing the decanters before Sir John, Lady
Wedderburn said--
"You are aware, Cyril, that your cousin will be at the railway
station in two hours from this time?"
"Yes. Does she travel alone?" asked Cyril, with provoking
indifference of manner.
"Alone. No. Could you imagine that she would do so?"
"How then--with whom? Has old Chutnay come all the way from Madras
with her?"
"She travels with her maid. You will, of course, go over with the
carriage to meet her, as your father has complained of a twinge or
two of gout."
"Can't Horace or Robert go?" asked the Captain, bluntly, as he filled
his glass with golden-coloured Château d'Yquem from a white crystal
bottle.
"If Sir John cannot go, you should and must, as his representative."
"Why must the whole house be under arms because a little Indo-Briton
is coming home?"
"Cyril!" she exclaimed, lifting up her plump white hands.
"Besides, mamma dear," said he, with something of his coaxing manner
when a boy, "the fact is, I have a particular engagement."
"With whom?"
The Captain coloured slightly, gave his moustache a twirl, and said--
"Oh, what does it signify? To look at a horse I wish to take back
with me to the regiment."
"Not a bay hunter, I hope," said his brother Robert.
"I have had enough of bay hunters," replied Cyril, with a short
laugh; and then he added, "Horace, my man, as your superior officer,
I order you to go upon this tour of duty."
"With pleasure," replied Horace; but Lady Wedderburn struck in--
"If Cyril is not courteous enough to go for his cousin, let Robert
appear alone. Why trouble poor Horace?"
"Why not, mamma? What trouble can it be to look after a pretty girl?
Let Horace go, by all means."
"But _he_ is not her cousin!"
"What does that matter, Kate? Let him go also," said Sir John, while
a droll but furtive smile was exchanged by Cyril and Horace Ramornie;
"the carriage will surely hold three. I've known it come from a ball
with six. Her maid may sit in the rumble with the servant--an
arrangement which perhaps may be agreeable to them both. Asloane,
order the carriage to be here punctually at seven."
Determined to have his own way, and no longer grieve Mary by his
protracted absence, Cyril left the dinner-table early, while Lady
Wedderburn had serious misgivings about him; and punctually at the
hour ordered, the handsome family carriage, with its two bright
coloured bays, with plated harness; its two resplendent lamps, and a
pair of spotted Dalmatian dogs in attendance, departed with Robert
and Horace Ramornie for the railway station, from whence, in less
than an hour, it returned with the heiress and her half-caste Indian
maid, a tawny woman, whose dress, as yet, was a strange but ample
scarlet garment, enveloping her whole person; and the tall footmen
were immediately in requisition to carry in her bullock trunks,
portmanteaus, and a huge "overland," covered with black canvas and
bound with iron.
More than ever provoked and piqued by the unaccountable absence of
Cyril at this interesting juncture, Lady Wedderburn--though after her
late terror she felt she must forgive him everything--started forward
with all eagerness as the drawing-room door was thrown open by
Asloane, and a wonderfully handsome, and evidently highly-bred young
girl, attired in a fashionably accurate suit of deep mourning, and
all in the most exquisite taste, was led in by Horace and Robert, who
saw--as the latter afterwards said--his mother's "company smile"
brighten into one of genuine affection and sympathy, as she embraced
and kissed on both cheeks the young heiress, of whom she was now to
be the custodian and chaperon.
"Welcome to Willowdean, my dear, dear girl," said Sir John, taking
both her hands in his, and saluting her with great tenderness. "I am
your old uncle Wedderburn; yet not perhaps so very old, after all,"
he added, with a smile, while she looked wistfully and earnestly in
his face, as if seeking to trace there a likeness to her dead father;
but though striving hard to do so, she failed, yet thought in her
heart--
"I shall always love him, because he is my papa's only brother. And,
dear Aunt Wedderburn, these are my cousins?"
"One is your cousin Robert. Cyril you shall see ere long, Gwenny."
"Doctor Chutnay, of Madras, who was so kind to poor papa and me, has
seen my cousin Cyril at Chatham Barracks, and says he is so handsome!"
"He is, indeed, Gwenny!" said Lady Wedderburn, greatly delighted by
this remark; "but now, dearest girl, you must be weary with your long
journey, though you would stop at York and Berwick, of course.
Permit me to see you to your room, or Miss M'Caw will do so, and take
off some of your things, if your maid is too weary."
And with a bow of acquiescence, and a bright pleasant smile, the
young lady, who had evidently made a most favourable impression on
all, retired to her own apartments; while Lady Wedderburn turned to
Sir John, and said--
"A delightful girl--so charming and winning! How provoked I am by
Cyril's protracted absence--about a horse, too. Who goes to buy
horses at night?"