It was a busy day at Tolcarne, that of the dinner party. The picnic had
not been a success. In fact, at one time, when very much bored by the
attentions of Vanleigh, Tiny had gazed out to sea at a pretty little
yacht gliding by, and longed to be on board--innocent, poor girl! of the
fact that Dick Trevor was lying on the deck with a powerful lorgnette,
seeing the party distinctly, and plainly making out the captain leaning
on the rock by her side.
Fin, too, was no wiser--though, for quite a quarter of an hour Frank
Pratt was gazing, with knitted brow, through a second lorgnette at the
little rocky cove where Sir Felix Landells was pestering her with
attentions, and evidently labouring under the impression that unless she
partook of lobster salad every five minutes she must feel faint.
Aunt Matty was the only really happy person in the party. She had, to
the dismay of all, announced her intention of going, feeling sure that
the change would benefit Pepine; and the way in which Vanleigh and
Landells tried in emulation to gratify her whims was most flattering to
her.
Not that she was deceived by the attentions, and imagined them extorted
by her charms; she knew well enough the visitors' aims, and was
gratified at their discernment.
"They know how much depends upon my opinion," she said to herself; and
she smiled graciously upon them both as one carried Pepine down the
rocks, the other her shawl, and gave his arm; ending by playfully
sending them afterwards to the girls.
"Old girl's warm, I know," said Vanleigh to himself.
"We must keep in with the old nymph, Van," said Sir Felix to him at the
end of the day; just about the same time that Tiny was crying silently
in her bedroom; and Fin striding up and down like a small tragedy queen.
"He's a born idiot, Tiny!" she exclaimed; "and what pa can mean by
making such a fuss over him, and telling me it's a proud thing to become
a lady of title, I don't know. Ahem!--Lady Landells--fine, isn't it? I
don't see that dear ma's any happier for being Lady Rea."
"Papa seems infatuated with them," said Tiny, bitterly.
"Yes; and when he found that black captain paying you such attention, I
saw him smile and rub his hands."
"Oh, don't Fin!" exclaimed Tiny, shuddering.
"I believe he's a regular Bluebeard. Look at the little blue-black dots
all over his chin. I shouldn't be at all surprised if he's got half a
dozen wives in a sort of Madame Tussaud's Blue Chamber of Horrors,
preserved in waxwork."
"Pray don't be so foolish, Fin."
"Foolish? I don't call it foolish to talk about our future husbands."
"Fin!" cried her sister.
"Well, you see if that isn't what pa means! I saw Aunt Matty smirking
about it and petting the captain; and ma was almost in tears about their
goings on."
"Oh, Fin! don't talk so," said Tiny, sadly; "I shall never marry."
"Till you say Yes at the altar, and the bevy of beauteous bridesmaids
dissolve in tears," laughed Fin. "I say, though, Tiny, I'm not going to
be bought and sold like a heroine of romance. I wouldn't have that Sir
Felix--no, not if he was ten thousand baronets; and if you listen to
Bluebeard, Tiny, you are no sister of mine."
"Do you think papa seriously thinks anything of the kind?"
"I'm sure of it, dear, and--and--and--oh! Tiny, Tiny--I do feel so
very, very miserable!"
To the surprise of her sister, she threw herself in her arms, and they
indulged in the sweet feminine luxury of a good cry, ending by Fin
declaring that she shouldn't go back to her own room; and more than
once, even in sleep, the pillows upon which the two pretty little
flushed faces lay, side by side, were wet with tears that stole from
beneath their eyelids in their troubled dreams.
And now the day of the dinner had arrived, and Lady Rea had had such a
furiously red face that Sir Hampton told her she ought to be ashamed of
herself, and made the poor little woman, who had been fretting herself
to death to do honour to his guests, shed tears of vexation.
Next there was a furious ringing of Sir Hampton's bell, about six
o'clock, and a demand whether the house was to smell of cabbage like
that.
As the odour did not pass away, Sir Hampton sought his lady, who had
gone to dress, and again made her shed tears by exclaiming against his
mansion being made to smell like a cookshop.
"It's that dreadful prize kitchener, Hampton, dear," said poor Lady Rea.
"The smell comes into the house instead of going up the chimney."
"It's nothing of the sort--its your stupid servants!" exclaimed the
knight, and he bounced off to his room to prepare for the banquet.
"I've a good mind to make myself ugly as sin, Tiny," said Fin,
pettishly. But she did not, for she looked very piquante in her palest
of pale blue diaphanous dresses, while her sister looked very sweet and
charming in white.
"Why, Tiny, you look quite poorly," cried Fin, in alarm. "Pray, don't
look like that, or that wretch Trevor will see that you've been
fretting. If he prefers little servant-girls to my dear sister, let him
have them."
"Fin, dear, you hurt me," said Tiny, simply; and there was such a
tender, reproachful look in her sweet eyes that Fin gave a gulp, and,
regardless of her get-up, threw herself on her sister's breast.
"I'm such a thoughtless wretch, Tiny; I won't say so any more."
"Please, Miss, your par says are you a coming down?" said the maid sent
to summon them; and they went down, to find Sir Hampton in so violently
stiff a cravat, that the wonder was how it was possible that it could be
tied in a bow, and the spectator at last came to the conclusion that it
had been starched after it was on.
Aunt Matty had, in her Irish poplin, a dress that was fearfully and
wonderfully made, and dated back to about a quarter of a century before.
It was of the colour of the herb whose perfume it exhaled--lavender;
and every time you approached her you began to think of damask--not
roses, but table-cloths and household linen, put away in great drawers,
in a country house.
This is not a wardrobe style of story, but we must stay to mention the
costume of Frances, Lady Rea, who came into the room with her cheeks
redder than ever, although she had tried cold water, hot water, lavender
water, and every cooling liquid she could think of. She was in peony
red--a stiff silk of Sir Hampton's own choice, and she sought his eye,
trembling lest he should be displeased; but as he emitted a crackle,
produced by his cravat, as he bent his head in satisfactory assent, a
bright smile shot across the pleasant face, dimpling it all over, and
she exclaimed--
"Lor', my dears, how well you look. There, they may come now as soon as
they like."
"Mind your dress, Fanny," said Aunt Matty, austerely, as she sat minding
her own. "Sh!"
She held up her fan to command silence, as Sir Hampton cleared his
throat, chuckled violently, and spoke--
"Er-rum, I think our guests will not find our circle much less
attractive than--er-rum!--Ah, here they are!"
Volume 2, Chapter XIV.