Sir Hampton was right--the visitors had arrived; and almost directly
after the ordinary greetings, during which Tiny never raised her eyes,
and Fin was so short that Sir Hampton darted an angry glance at her, the
dinner was announced. Trevor took in Lady Rea; Vanleigh, Tiny;
Landells, Fin; and Pratt, Aunt Matty--Sir Hampton bringing up the rear.
The dinner was good, and passed off with no greater mishaps than a
slight distribution of the saccharine juices in a dish in the second
course down the back of Aunt Matilda's poplin--Edward being the
offender; but the sweetly gracious smile with which the lady bore her
affliction was charming, and Fin looked her astonishment at her sister.
But the dinner was not a pleasant one, even if good; there was too much,
"Thompson, that hock to Sir Felix Landells;" "Thompson, the dry
champagne to Captain Vanleigh"--it was hard work to Sir Hampton not to
add "of the Guards;" "Thompson, let Mr Trevor taste that Clos-Vougeot;"
and it was a relief when the ladies rose.
"If he will talk about his cellar, Felix, punish it," whispered
Vanleigh, as they drew closer; but Sir Felix Landells's thoughts were in
the drawing-room, and though Sir Hampton persisted in talking about his
cellar--how many dozens of this he had laid down, how many dozens of
that; how he had been favoured by getting a few dozens of Sir Magnum
O'pus's port at the sale, and so on ad infinitum--Sir Felix refrained
from looking upon the wine when it was red; and as soon as etiquette
allowed they joined the ladies in the drawing-room, where Trevor had the
mortification of seeing Vanleigh resume his position by Tiny, while
Landells loomed over Fin like an aristocratic poplar by a rose-bush.
Trevor consoled himself, though, by sitting down by pleasant Lady Rea,
while Sir Hampton crackled at Pratt, talked politics to him, and his
ideas of Parliament, and Aunt Matty fanned herself, as she treated
Pepine to the sensation of lavender poplin as a couch.
"What a nice little man your friend is, Mr Trevor," began Lady Rea; "I
declare he's the nicest, sensiblest man I ever met."
"I'm glad you like him, Lady Rea," said Trevor, earnestly; "but I want
to talk to you."
"There isn't anything the matter, is there?" said Lady Rea, anxiously.
Trevor looked at her for an instant, and saw that in her face which
quickened his resolve, already spumed into action by the markedly
favoured attentions of Vanleigh to the elder daughter of the house.
"Lady Rea," he said, "I'm in trouble."
"I'm so sorry," she said, with simple, genuine condolence. "Can I help
you?"
"Indeed you can," said Trevor; and he proceeded to tell her what he had
discovered respecting Mrs Lloyd's designs.
"Well, I never knew such impudence!" cried Lady Rea, indignantly.
"You will sing now to oblige me," said Vanleigh; but for the time, Tiny
declined, and Fin was carried off to the piano by Sir Felix.
"Do you know `Won't you tell me why, Robin?'" said Sir Felix, beaming
down at the little maiden.
"Yes," said Fin, sharply.
"Then do sing it."
"I shall sing `Maggie's Secret' instead," said Fin, sending the colour
flushing into her sister's face, as she rattled it out, with tremendous
aplomb given to the words--
So I tell them they needn't come wooing to me.
Meanwhile, Trevor went on pouring his troubles into Lady Rea's attentive
ears, as Sir Hampton prosed, Aunt Matty dozed with a smile on her
countenance, Pepine snoozed in her lap in a satin tent made of his
mistress's fan, and Poor Tiny longed for the hour when she could be
alone.
"Lady Rea," said Trevor, at last, "I will not attempt to conceal my
feelings--I think you can guess them, when I tell you that my trouble is
that your daughter passed me in the wood talking to--questioning the
little girl I have mentioned, and I read that in her face which seemed
to say that she despised me."
"Then that's what's made Tiny so low-spirited for the last few days,"
said Lady Rea.
"God bless you for that!" said Trevor, in a low, hoarse voice, "you've
made me very happy. Lady Rea, will you take my part? If I have no
opportunity of explaining, will you do it for me? I am very blunt, I
know--recollect I am a sailor; so forgive me if I tell you that since I
first met Miss Rea, I have scarcely ceased to think about her."
"I'm not cross with you for it," said Lady Rea, "and I will tell Tiny;
but you mustn't ask me to interfere--I couldn't think of doing so.
There," she whispered, "go and talk to her yourself."
And she gave the young fellow so pleasant a look, as their eyes met,
that he knew that if the matter depended upon her, Tiny Rea would be his
wife.
But there was no opportunity as yet, for Tiny had been unwillingly led
to the piano, vacated by Fin, Sir Felix being buttonholed by Sir
Hampton, and Pratt taking his place, and talking to the sharp-tongued
little maid in a way that made her exclaim--
"How solemn you are!"
"Hush!" said Pratt. "Listen! What a sweet voice!"
"Yes, Tiny can sing nicely," replied Fin.
And they listened, as did Trevor, while, in a sweet, low voice, Tiny
sang a pathetic old ballad with such pathos that a strangely sweet sense
of melancholy crept over Trevor, and he stood gazing at her till the
last note had ceased to thrill his nerves, when Vanleigh led her to her
seat, and crossed to pay his court to Aunt Matty, awakened by the song.
"Now," whispered Lady Rea, "go and tell her how it was."
In strict obedience to the indiscreet advice, Trevor crossed to where
Tiny was seated, offered his arm, and together they strolled into the
handsome conservatory.
"Miss Rea," said Trevor, plunging at once in medias res, as Tiny made
one or two constrained replies to his remarks, "I have been explaining
to Lady Rea what trouble I am in."
"Trouble, Mr Trevor?" said Tiny, coldly.
"Yes: how I had ventured to hope that I had won the friendship of two
ladies, and with the vanity, or weakness, of a sailor, I trusted that
that friendship would ripen into something warmer."
"Mr Trevor," said Tiny, her voice trembling, "I must request--"
"Tiny, dear Tiny," cried Trevor, passionately, "I may have but a few
moments to speak to you. Don't misjudge me, I have explained all to
Lady Rea, and she will tell you. If I am mad and vain in hoping,
forgive me--I cannot help it, for I love you dearly; and this that I
see--these attentions--these visits--madden me."
"Mr Trevor, pray--pray don't say more!" exclaimed Tiny, glancing in the
direction of the drawing-room.
"I must--I cannot help it," he whispered, passionately. "Tell me my
love is without hope, and I will go back to sea and trouble you no more;
but give me one little word, tell me if only that we are friends again,
and that you will not misjudge me, or think of me as you did the other
day in the wood. Tell me--confess this: you thought me wrong?"
"I had no right to judge you, Mr Trevor," said Tiny, in a trembling
voice; "but--but my sister--and I--"
"Tiny," whispered Trevor, catching her land in his, "my darling, I could
not have a thought that you might not read. Give me one word--one look.
Heaven bless you for this."
Young men are so thoughtless, so full of the blind habits of the
sand-hiding ostrich at such times, and so wrapped up was Richard Trevor,
sailor and natural unspoiled man, in the soft, gentle look directed at
him from Tiny's timid, humid eyes, that, regardless of the fact that
they were close to the drawing-room, the chances are that he might have
gone farther than kissing the little blue-veined hand he held in his,
had not, from behind a clump of camellias, a harsh voice suddenly
exclaimed--
"Now, then, am I right?"
Sir Hampton Rea and Aunt Matty appeared upon the scene.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Aunt Matty had had her way, and was satisfied. Quiet as she was,
she had her suspicions of Trevor's earnest talk to Lady Rea; and when
Vanleigh drew her attention to the fact that the two imprudent young
people had strolled off into the conservatory, by saying, "I suppose
Miss Rea finds the room too close?" she gave him a significant look.
"Sit down and hold Pepine for me, Captain Vanleigh," she said, in a low
voice, "and I'll soon put a stop to that."
Vanleigh said something very naughty, sotto voce, and then, as he felt
bound to flatter Aunt Matty, he seated himself, and nursed the wretched
little dog, while Aunt Matty made her way to Sir Hampton, who was deep
in a political speech, to which Sir Felix kept saying "Ya-as" and "Ver'
true," eyeing Fin the while through his glass.
Fin's sharp eyes detected something wrong, and she tried a flank
movement.
"Go and tell my sister I want her directly, Mr Pratt," she said--"in
the conservatory."
It was too late; Aunt Matty's forced march had done it.
"Eh! what? Er-rum!" ejaculated Sir Hampton.
Then he followed his sister out into the conservatory, where she made
the before-mentioned remark, and Sir Hampton, turning port wine colour,
caught his daughter by the wrist.
"Go to bed this instant!" he exclaimed, reverting in his rage to the
punishment inflicted years before. "As to you, sir--"
"Excuse me, Sir Hampton," said Trevor, boldly.
"Let me speak," said Aunt Matty, with great dignity. "Hampton, this is
neither the time nor the place to have words about the works of the
wicked. I warned you, but you would not take heed. Valentina, you are
not to go to bed, but to return to the drawing-room as if nothing had
happened. Hampton, you must not disturb your other guests--the
strangers sojourning in peace within your gates."
At a time like this Aunt Matty was too much for Sir Hampton. She had
girded herself as she would have termed it; and when Aunt Matty girded
herself her words were like a strong solution of tracts, and she became
a sort of moral watering-pot, with which she sprinkled the wicked and
quenched their anger. Sir Hampton never so much as said "Er-rum!" at
such times, and now seeing the wisdom of her words, he picked two or
three flowers, and walked back into the drawing-room with Tiny, the poor
girl trying hard to conceal her agitation.
Trevor was about to follow, but Aunt Matty stopped him.
"Sit down there, young man," she said, severely.
"If you wish to speak to me, certainly," said Trevor, politely; "but
what I have to say must be to Sir Hampton, with all respect to you."
"Sit down there for five minutes, young man, and then you can return."
Trevor fumed--the position was so ridiculous; but he accepted it,
glancing the while at his watch, and then fighting hard to preserve his
gravity before the stiff figure in whose presence he sat. For, in spite
of the annoyance, a feeling of joyous hilarity had come upon the
offender against decorum: he knew that Tiny loved him, and doubtless a
few words of explanation would be listened to when Sir Hampton was cool,
and then all would come right.
"I think the five minutes are up, Miss Rea," said Trevor, rising.
"Perhaps you will take my arm, and we can stroll back as if nothing had
happened. I will see Sir Hampton in the morning."
Aunt Matty bowed, and then, wearing the aspect of some jointless
phenomenon, she stalked by his side back into the drawing-room, where,
in spite of the efforts of Lady Rea and Vanleigh, nothing could disperse
the gloom that had fallen; and the party broke up with the departure of
the gentlemen, who walked home on account of the beauty of the night--
Vanleigh talking incessantly, and Trevor quiet, but striving hard to
conceal his triumph.
"I'll ease him as much as possible," Trevor had said to himself, apropos
of Vanleigh.
"Poor brute! he little thinks how he's shelved," said Vanleigh to
Landells.
"Little girl's pos'tively b'witching," said Landells.
"Who, Miss Rea?"
"Jove! No--sister. Sharp and bright as lit' needle."
"Just suit you, there, Flick."
"Ya-as."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"It came to a climax, then, Dick, eh?" said Pratt.
"Franky, old boy, I'm the happiest dog under the sun."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
These fragments of conversation took place at odd times that night; and
the next morning, soon after breakfast, Trevor made an excuse to his
friends, and started for Tolcarne.
"Gone to get his conge, Flick," said Vanleigh.
"Poor Trevor! Sorry. Not bad 'fler," said Sir Felix.
"Bah! every man for himself. But we shall have to clear out after this.
We'll go and stay at Saint Francis, and when the old boy finds we are
there, he'll ask us up to Tolcarne."
"But seems so shabby to poor Trevor," said Sir Felix.
"Pooh, nonsense! Every man has his crosses in this way. Let's get out
somewhere, though, so as not to be at hand when the poor beggar comes
back; he'll be in a towering fury. I hope he won't make an ass of
himself, and force a quarrel on me."
Volume 2, Chapter XV.