Frank Pratt was quite right, the Rea family were in town; and thanks to
Aunt Matilda, who had sent to Captain Vanleigh a notification of all
that had taken place, that gentleman and his companion had resumed their
visits; and had, in the course of a few days, become quite at home.
Lady Rea had felt disposed to rebel at first, but Vanleigh completely
disarmed the little lady by his frank behaviour.
"You see, Lady Rea," he said to her one day, in private, "I cannot help
feeling that you look upon me rather as an intruder."
"Really, Captain Van--"
"Pray hear me out, dear Lady Rea," he said, in protestation. "You
prefer poor Trevor as your son-in-law--I must call him Trevor still."
"He was as good and gentlemanly a--"
"He was, Lady Rea--he was indeed," said Vanleigh, warmly, "and no one
lamented his fall more than I did."
"It was very, very sad," said Lady Rea.
"And you must own, dear Lady Rea that as soon as I heard of the
attachment between Trevor--I must still call him Trevor, you see--and
your daughter, I immediately withdrew all pretensions."
"Yes, you did do that," said Lady Rea.
"Exactly," said Vanleigh. "Well, then, now the coast is once more
clear, and the engagement at an end--"
"But it isn't," said Lady Rea.
"Excuse me, my dear Lady Rea--I have Sir Hampton's assurance that it is
so. He tells me that Trevor--poor old Trevor--resigned his pretensions
in the most gentlemanly way."
"Yes, he did," said Lady Rea; "and it was very foolish of him, too."
"Doubtless," said Vanleigh, with a smile; "but still, under the
circumstances, how could he have done otherwise? Ah, Lady Rea, it was a
very sad blow to his friends."
"It's very kind of you to say so, Captain Vanleigh," said Lady Rea.
"Don't say that," replied Vanleigh. "But now, Lady Rea, let me try and
set myself in a better position with you. Of course you must know that
I love Miss Rea?"
"Well, yes--I suppose so," said the little lady.
"Then let us be friends," said Vanleigh. "I am coming merely as a
visitor--a friend of the family; and what I have to ask of you is this,
that I may be treated with consideration."
"Oh, of course, Captain Vanleigh."
"If in the future Miss Rea can bring herself to look upon my pretensions
with favour, I shall be the happiest man alive. If she cannot--well, I
will be patient, and blame no one."
"He was very nice, my dear," said Lady Rea to her daughter. "No one
could have been more so; but I told him I didn't think there was any
hope."
"Of course there isn't, ma, dear," said Fin; "and it's very indecent of
him to come as he does, and so soon after Richard's misfortune; but I
know how it all was--Aunt Matty did it."
"Aunt Matty did it, my dear?"
"Yes, ma. Wrote to Captain Vanleigh at his club, and told him all about
how pa said poor Richard was not to be mentioned in the house, and how
we were all brought up to town for change."
"I don't think Aunt Matty would do anything so foolish, my dear," said
mamma.
"Then how came they to call as soon as we had been up two days?" said
Fin. "Aunt Matty would do anything she thought was for our welfare,
even if it was to poison us."
"Oh, Fin, my dear!"
"Well, I can't help it, ma, dear; she is so tiresome. Aunt Matty is so
good; I'm glad I'm not, for it does make you so miserable and
uncharitable. Oh, ma, darling, what a dreadfully wicked little woman
you must be!"
"Oh, my dear!"
"I'm sure Aunt Matty thinks you are. I often see her looking painfully
righteous at you when you are reading the newspaper or a story, while
she is studying `Falling Leaves from the Tree of Life,' or `The Daily
Dredge.'"
"My dear Fin, don't talk so," said Lady Rea. "Aunt Matty means all for
the best."
"Yes, ma, dear," said Fin, with a sigh, "that's it. If she only meant
things for the second best, I wouldn't care, for then one might perhaps
be comfortable."
"But, my dear, don't talk so," said Lady Rea; "and I think you are
misjudging Aunt Matty about her sending to Captain Vanleigh."
"Oh no, ma, dear," cried Fin. "It's quite right. That dreadful noodle,
Sir Felix, let it all out to me just now in the dining-room, while the
Captain was upstairs with you."
"Has he been speaking to you, then?" said Lady Rea, eagerly.
"Yes, ma," said Fin, coolly; but there was a pretty rosy flush in her
little cheek.
"What did he say, dear?"
"He-haw, he-haw, he-haw-w-w-w!" said Fin, seriously.
"Fin!"
"Well, it sounded like it, ma," said Fin, "for I never did meet such a
donkey."
"But, my dear Fin--"
"Well, I know, ma," exclaimed Fin, "it's rude of me; but I'm naturally
rude. I've got what Aunt Matty would call the mark of the beast on me,
and it makes me wicked."
"Tut, tut, tut! Fin, my dear," said Lady Rea, drawing her child to her,
till Fin lay with her head resting against her, but with her face
averted. "Now, come, tell me all about it. I don't like you to have
secrets from me."
"Well, ma, he met me, and begged for five minutes' interview."
"Well, my dear?"
"Well, ma, I told him it was of no use, for I knew what he was going to
say."
"Oh, Fin, my dear child, I'm afraid they neglected your etiquette very
much at school."
"No, they didn't, ma," said Fin, with her eyes twinkling--"they were
always sowing me with it; but I was stony ground, as Aunt Matty would
say, and it never took root. Oh, ma, if you had only seen what a donkey
he looked!--and he smelt all over the room, just like one of Rimmel's
young men. Then," continued Fin, speaking fast and excitedly, "he went
on talking stuff--said he'd lay his title and fortune at my feet; that
he'd give the world to win my heart, and I told him I hadn't got one;
said he should wait patiently, and kept on talk, talk, talk--all stuff
that he had evidently been learning up for the occasion; and I'd have
given anything to have been able to pull his ears and rumple his hair,
only he might have thought it rude."
"Oh yes, my dear," said mamma, innocently.
"And at last I said I didn't think I should ever accept any one, for I
hated men; and then he sighed, and looked at me side-wise, and wanted to
take my hand; and I ran out of the room, and that's all."
"But, Fin, my dear--"
"Oh, I know, ma, it was horribly rude; but I hate him. Pf! I can smell
him now."
Lady Rea sighed.
"And now, I suppose," said Fin, "we are to be pestered--poor Tiny and
your humble servant; they'll follow us to church, get sittings where
they can watch us, and carry on a regular siege. I wish them joy of
it!"
Lady Rea only sighed, and stroked the glossy head, till Fin suddenly
jumped up, and ran out of the room; but only to come back at the end of
a minute, and stand nodding her head.
"Well, my dear, what is it?" said Lady Rea.
"You'll have to put your foot down, mamma," said Fin, sharply.
Lady Rea glanced at her little member, which, in its delicate kid boot,
looked too gentle to crush a fly; and she sighed.
"A nice state of affairs!" said Fin.
"There's Tiny, up in her bedroom crying herself into a decline, and Aunt
Matty in the study with papa conspiring against our happiness, because
it's for our good. Now, mark my words, mamma--there'll be a regular
plot laid to marry Tiny to that odious Bluebeard of a Captain, and if
you don't stop it I shall."
Lady Rea sat, with wrinkled brow, looking puzzled at the little decisive
figure before her; and then, as Fin went out with a whisk of all her
light skirts, she sat for a few moments thinking, and then went up to
her elder daughter's room.
Volume 3, Chapter VII.