The expected telegram arrived two days later, requesting Miss Mohun to
find a lodging at Rockstone sufficient to contain Sir Jasper and Lady
Merrifield, and a certain amount of sons and daughters, while they
considered what was to be done about Silverfold.
‘So you and I will go out house-hunting, Gillian?’ said Aunt Jane, when
she had opened it, and the exclamations were over.
‘I am afraid there is no house large enough up here,’ said her sister.
‘No, it is an unlucky time, in the thick of the season.’
‘Victoria said she had been looking at some houses in Bellevue.’
‘I am afraid she will have raised the prices of them.’
‘But, oh, Aunt Jane, we couldn’t go to Bellevue Church!’ cried Gillian.
‘Your mother would like to be so near the daily services at the Kennel,’
said Miss Mohun. ‘Yes, we must begin with those houses. There’s nothing
up here but Sorrento, and I have heard enough of its deficiencies!’
At that moment in came a basket of game, grapes, and flowers, with Lady
Rotherwood’s compliments.
‘Solid pudding,’ muttered Miss Mohun. ‘In this case, I should almost
prefer empty praise. Look here, Ada, what a hamper they must have had
from home! I think I shall, as I am going that way, take a pheasant and
some grapes to the poor Queen of the White Ants; I believe she is really
ill, and it will show that we do not want to neglect them.’
‘Oh, thank you, Aunt Jane!’ cried Gillian, the colour rising in her
face, and she was the willing bearer of the basket as she walked down
the steps with her aunt, and along the esplanade, only pausing to
review the notices of palatial, rural, and desirable villas in the
house-agent’s window, and to consider in what proportion their claims to
perfection might be reduced.
As they turned down Ivinghoe Terrace, and were approaching the rusty
garden-gate, they overtook Mrs. Lee, the wife of the organist of St.
Kenelm’s, who lodged at Mrs. White’s. In former times, before her
marriage, Mrs. Lee had been a Sunday-school teacher at St. Andrew’s, and
though party spirit considered her to have gone over to the enemy, there
were old habits of friendly confidence between her and Miss Mohun, and
there was an exchange of friendly greetings and inquiries. When she
understood their errand she rejoiced in it, saying that poor Mrs. White
was very poorly, and rather fractious, and that this supply would be
most welcome both to her and her daughter.
‘Ah, I am afraid that poor girl goes through a great deal!’
‘Indeed she does, Miss Mohun; and a better girl never lived. I cannot
think how she can bear up as she does; there she is at the office
all day with her work, except when she runs home in the middle of the
day--all that distance to dish up something her mother can taste, for
there’s no dependence on the girl, nor on little Maura neither. Then she
is slaving early and late to keep the house in order as well as she can,
when her mother is fretting for her attention; and I believe she loses
more than half her night’s rest over the old lady. How she bears up, I
cannot guess; and never a cross word to her mother, who is such a trial,
nor to the boys, but looking after their clothes and their lessons, and
keeping them as good and nice as can be. I often say to my husband, I am
sure it is a lesson to live in the house with her.’
‘I am sure she is an excellent girl,’ said Miss Mohun. ‘I wish we could
do anything to help her.’
‘I know you are a real friend, Miss Mohun, and never was there any young
person who was in greater need of kindness; though it is none of her
fault. She can’t help her face, poor dear; and she has never given any
occasion, I am sure, but has been as guarded and correct as possible.’
‘Oh, I was in hopes that annoyance was suspended at least for a time!’
‘You are aware of it then, Miss Mohun? Yes, the young gentleman is come
back, not a bit daunted. Yesterday evening what does he do but drive up
in a cab with a great bouquet, and a basketful of grapes, and what
not! Poor Kally, she ran in to me, and begged me as a favour to come
downstairs with her, and I could do no less. And I assure you, Miss
Mohun, no queen could be more dignified, nor more modest than she was
in rejecting his gifts, and keeping him in check. Poor dear, when he was
gone she burst out crying--a thing I never knew of her before; not that
she cared for him, but she felt it a cruel wrong to her poor mother to
send away the grapes she longed after; and so she will feel these just a
providence.’
‘Then is Mrs. White confined to her room?’
‘For more than a fortnight. For that matter the thing was easier, for
she had encouraged the young man as far as in her lay, poor thing,
though my husband and young Alexis both told her what they knew of him,
and that it would not be for Kally’s happiness, let alone the offence to
his father.’
‘Then it really went as far as that?’
‘Miss Mohun, I would be silent as the grave if I did not know that the
old lady went talking here and there, never thinking of the harm she was
doing. She was so carried away by the idea of making a lady of Kally.
She says she was a beauty herself, though you would not think it now,
and she is perfectly puffed up about Kally. So she actually lent an ear
when the young man came persuading Kally to get married and go off to
Italy with him, where he made sure he could come over Mr. White with her
beauty and relationship and all--among the myrtle groves--that was his
expression--where she would have an association worthy of her. I don’t
quite know how he meant it to be brought about, but he is one who would
stick at nothing, and of course Kally would not hear of it, and answered
him so as one would think he would never have had the face to address
her again, but poor Mrs. White has done nothing but fret over it, and
blame her daughter for undutifulness, and missing the chance of making
all their fortunes--breaking her heart and her health, and I don’t know
what besides. She is half a foreigner, you see, and does not understand,
and she is worse than no one to that poor girl.’
‘And you say he is come back as bad as ever.’
‘Or worse, you may say, Miss Mohun; absence seems only to have set him
the more upon her, and I am afraid that Mrs. White’s talk, though it may
not have been to many, has been enough to set it about the place; and
in cases like that, it is always the poor young woman as gets the
blame--especially with the gentleman’s own people.’
‘I am afraid so.’
‘And you see she is in a manner at his mercy, being son to one of the
heads of the firm, and in a situation of authority.’
‘What can she do all day at the office?’
‘She keeps one or two of the other young ladies working with her,’ said
Mrs. Lee; ‘but if any change could be made, it would be very happy for
her; though, after all, I do not see how she could leave this place, the
house being family property, and Mr. White their relation, besides that
Mrs. White is in no state to move; but, on the other hand, Mr. and Mrs.
Stebbing know their son is after her, and the lady would not stick at
believing or saying anything against her, though I will always bear
witness, and so will Mr. Lee, that never was there a more good,
right-minded young woman, or more prudent and guarded.’
‘So would Mr. Flight and his mother, I have no doubt.’
‘Mr. Flight would, Miss Mohun, but’--with an odd look--‘I fancy my lady
thinks poor Kally too handsome for it to be good for a young clergyman
to have much to say to her. They have not been so cordial to them of
late, but that is partly owing to poor Mrs. White’s foolish talk, and in
part to young Alexis having been desultory and mopy of late--not taking
the interest in his music he did. Mr. Lee says he is sure some young
woman is at the bottom of it.’
Miss Mohun saw her niece’s ears crimson under her hat, and was afraid
Mrs. Lee would likewise see them. They had reached the front of the
house, and she made haste to take out a visiting-card and to beg Mrs.
Lee kindly to give it with the basket, saying that she would not give
trouble by coming to the door.
And then she turned back with Gillian, who was in a strange tumult of
shame and consternation, yet withal, feeling that first strange thrill
of young womanhood at finding itself capable of stirring emotion, and
too much overcome by these strange sensations--above all by the shock of
shame--to be able to utter a word.
I must make light of it, but not too light, thought Miss Mohun, and she
broke the ice by saying, ‘Poor foolish boy--’
‘Oh, Aunt Jane, what shall I do?’
‘Let it alone, my dear.’
‘But that I should have done so much harm and upset him so’--in a voice
betraying a certain sense of being flattered. ‘Can’t I do anything to
undo it?’
‘Certainly not. To be perfectly quiet and do nothing is all you can do.
My dear, boys and young men have such foolish fits--more in that station
than in ours, because they have none of the public school and college
life which keeps people out of it. You were the first lady this poor
fellow was brought into contact with, and--well, you were rather a
goose, and he has been a greater one; but if he is let alone, he will
recover and come to his senses. I could tell you of men who have had
dozens of such fits. I am much more interested about his sister. What a
noble girl she is!’
‘Oh, isn’t she, Aunt Jane. Quite a real heroine! And now mamma is
coming, she will know what to do for her!’
‘I hope she will, but it is a most perplexing case altogether.’
‘And that horrid young Stebbing is come back too. I am glad she has that
nice Mrs. Lee to help her.’
‘And to defend her,’ added Miss Mohun. ‘Her testimony is worth a great
deal, and I am glad to know where to lay my hand upon it. And here is
our first house, “Les Rochers.” For Madame de Sevigne’s sake, I hope it
will do!’
But it didn’t! Miss Mohun got no farther than the hall before she
detected a scent of gas; and they had to betake themselves to the next
vacant abode. The investigating nature had full scope in the various
researches that she made into parlour, kitchen, and hall, desperately
wearisome to Gillian, whose powers were limited to considering how the
family could sit at ease in the downstairs rooms, how they could be
stowed away in the bedrooms, and where there were the prettiest views
of the bay. Aunt Jane, becoming afraid that while she was literally
‘ferreting’ in the offices Gillian might be meditating on her conquest,
picked up the first cheap book that looked innocently sensational, and
left her to study it on various sofas. And when daylight failed for
inspections, Gillian still had reason to rejoice in the pastime devised
for her, since there was an endless discussion at the agent’s, over the
only two abodes that could be made available, as to prices, repairs,
time, and terms. They did not get away till it was quite dark and
the gas lighted, and Miss Mohun did not think the ascent of the steps
desirable, so that they went round by the street.
‘I declare,’ exclaimed Miss Mohun, ‘there’s Mr. White’s house lighted
up. He must be come!’
‘I wonder whether he will do anything for Kalliope,’ sighed Gillian.
‘Oh, Jenny,’ exclaimed Miss Adeline, as the two entered the
drawing-room. ‘You have had such a loss; Rotherwood has been here
waiting to see you for an hour, and such an agreeable man he brought
with him!’
‘Who could it have been?’
‘I didn’t catch his name--Rotherwood was mumbling in his quick
way--indeed, I am not sure he did not think I knew him. A
distinguished-looking man, like a picture, with a fine white beard, and
he was fresh from Italy; told me all about the Carnival and the curious
ceremonies in the country villages.’
‘From Italy? It can’t have been Mr. White.’
‘Mr. White! My dear Jane! this was a gentleman--quite a grand-looking
man. He might have been an Italian nobleman, only he spoke English
too well for that, though I believe those diplomates can speak all
languages. However, you will see, for we are to go and dine with them at
eight o’clock--you, and I, and Gillian.’
‘You, Ada!’
‘Oh! I have ordered the chair round; it won’t hurt me with the glasses
up. Gillian, my dear, you must put on the white dress that Mrs.
Grinstead’s maid did up for you--it is quite simple, and I should like
you to look nice! Well--oh, how tired you both look! Ring for some fresh
tea, Gillian. Have you found a house?’
So excited and occupied was Adeline that the house-hunting seemed to
have assumed quite a subordinate place in her mind. It really was an
extraordinary thing for her to dine out, though this was only a family
party next door; and she soon sailed away to hold counsel with Mrs.
Mount on dresses and wraps, and to get her very beautiful hair dressed.
She made by far the most imposing appearance of the three when they
shook themselves out in the ante-room at the hotel, in her softly-tinted
sheeny pale-gray dress, with pearls in her hair, and two beautiful blush
roses in her bosom; while her sister, in black satin and coral, somehow
seemed smaller than ever, probably from being tired, and from the same
cause Gillian had dark marks under her brown eyes, and a much more limp
and languid look than was her wont.
Fly was seated on her father’s knee, looking many degrees better and
brighter, as if his presence were an elixir of life, and when he put her
down to greet the arrivals, both she and Mysie sprang to Gillian to ask
the result of the quest of houses. The distinguished friend was there,
and was talking to Lady Rotherwood about Italian progress, and there was
only time for an inquiry and reply as to the success of the search for a
house before dinner was announced--the little girls disappeared, and the
Marquess gave his arm to his eldest cousin.
‘Grand specimen of marble, isn’t he!’ he muttered.
‘Ada hasn’t the least idea who he is. She thinks him a great diplomate,’
communicated Jane in return, and her arm received an ecstatic squeeze.
It was amusing to Jane Mohun to see how much like a dinner at Rotherwood
this contrived to be, with my lady’s own footman, and my lord’s valet
waiting in state. She agreed mentally with her sister that the other
guest was a very fine-looking man, with a picturesque head, and he did
not seem at all out of place or ill-at-ease in the company in which
he found himself. Lord Rotherwood, with a view, perhaps, to prolonging
Adeline’s mystification, turned the conversation to Italian politics,
and the present condition and the industries of the people, on all of
which subjects much ready information was given in fluent, good English,
with perhaps rather unnecessarily fine words. It was only towards the
end of the dinner that a personal experience was mentioned about the
impossibility of getting work done on great feast days, or of knowing
which were the greater--and the great dislike of the peasant mind to new
methods.
When it came to ‘At first, I had to superintend every blasting with
gelatine,’ the initiated were amused at the expression of Adeline’s
countenance, and the suppressed start of frightful conviction that
quivered on her eyelids and the corners of her mouth, though kept
in check by good breeding, and then smoothed out into a resolute
complacency, which convinced her sister that having inadvertently
exalted the individual into the category of the distinguished, she meant
to abide staunchly by her first impression.
Lady Rotherwood, like most great ladies in public life, was perfectly
well accustomed to have all sorts of people brought home to dinner, and
would have been far less astonished than her cousins at sitting down
with her grocer; but she gave the signal rather early, and on reaching
the sitting-room, where Miss Elworthy was awaiting them, said--
‘We will leave them to discuss their water-works at their ease.
Certainly residence abroad is an excellent education.’
‘A very superior man,’ said Adeline.
‘Those self-made men always are.’
‘In the nature of things, added Miss Mohun, ‘or they would not have
mounted.’
‘It is the appendages that are distressing,’ said Lady Rotherwood, ‘and
they seldom come in one’s way. Has this man left any in Italy?’
‘Oh no, none alive. He took his wife there for her health, and that was
the way he came to set up his Italian quarries; but she and his child
both died there long ago, and he has never come back to this place
since,’ explained Ada.
‘But he has relations here,’ said Jane. ‘His cousin was an officer in
Jasper Merrifield’s regiment.’
She hoped to have been saying a word in the cause of the young people,
but she regretted her attempt, for Lady Rotherwood replied--
‘I have heard of them. A very undeserving family, are they not?’
Gillian, whom Miss Elworthy was trying to entertain, heard, and could
not help colouring all over, face, neck, and ears, all the more for so
much hating the flush and feeling it observed.
Miss Mohun’s was a very decided, ‘I should have said quite the reverse.’
‘Indeed! Well, I heard the connection lamented, for his sake, by--what
was her name? Mrs. Stirling--or--’
‘Mrs. Stebbing,’ said Adeline. ‘You don’t mean that she has actually
called on you?’
‘Is there any objection to her?’ asked Lady Rotherwood, with a glance to
see whether the girl was listening.
‘Oh no, no! only he is a mere mason--or quarryman, who has grown rich,’
said Adeline.
The hostess gave a little dry laugh.
‘Is that all? I thought you had some reason for disapproving of her. I
thought her rather sensible and pleasing.’
Cringing and flattering, thought Jane; and that is just what these
magnificent ladies like in the wide field of inferiors. But aloud she
could not help saying, ‘My principal objection to Mrs. Stebbing is that
I have always thought her rather a gossip--on the scandalous side.’
Then, bethinking herself that it would not be well to pursue the subject
in Gillian’s presence, she explained where the Stebbings lived, and
asked how long Lord Rotherwood could stay.
‘Only over Sunday. He is going to look over the place to-morrow, and
next day there is to be a public meeting about it. I am not sure that we
shall not go with him. I do not think the place agrees with Phyllis.’
The last words were spoken just as the two gentlemen had come in from
the dining-room, rather sooner than was expected, and they were taken
up.
‘Agrees with Phyllis! She looks pounds--nay, hundred-weights better than
when we left home. I mean to have her down to-morrow on the beach for a
lark--castle-building, paddling--with Mysie and Val, and Fergus and all.
That’s what would set her up best, wouldn’t it, Jane?’
Jane gave a laughing assent, wondering how much of this would indeed
prove castle-building, though adding that Fergus was at school, and that
it was not exactly the time of year for paddling.
‘Oh, ah, eh! Well, perhaps not--forestalling sweet St.
Valentine--stepping into their nests they paddled. Though St. Valentine
is past, and I thought our fortunes had been made, Mr. White, by calling
this the English Naples, and what not.’
‘Those are the puffs, my lord. There is a good deal of difference even
between this and Rocca Marina, which is some way up the mountain.’
‘It must be very beautiful,’ said Miss Ada.
‘Well, Miss Mohun, people do say it is striking.’ And he was drawn into
describing the old Italian mansion, purchased on the extinction of an
ancient family of nobles, perched up on the side of a mountain, whose
feet the sea laved, with a terrace whence there was a splendid view of
the Gulf of Genoa, and fine slopes above and below of chestnut-trees
and vineyards; and therewith he gave a hearty invitation to the company
present to visit him there if ever they went to Italy, when he would
have great pleasure in showing them many bits of scenery, and curious
remains that did not fall in the way of ordinary tourists.
Lady Rotherwood gratefully said she should remember the invitation if
they went to the south, as perhaps they should do that very spring.
‘And,’ said Ada, ‘you are not to be expected to remain long in this
climate when you have a home like that awaiting you.’
‘Don’t call it home, Miss Mohun,’ he said. ‘I have not had that these
many years; but I declare, the first sound of our county dialect, when
I got out at the station, made my heart leap into my mouth. I could have
shaken hands with the fellow.’
‘Then I hope you will remain here for some time. There is much wanting
to be set going,’ said Jane.
‘So I thought of doing, and I had out a young fellow, who I thought
might take my place--my partner’s son, young Stebbing. They wrote that
he had been learning Italian, with a view to being useful to me, and so
on; but when he came out, what was he but a fine gentleman--never had
put his hand to a pick, nor a blasting-iron; and as to his Italian, he
told me it was the Italian of Alfieri and Leopardi. Leopardi’s Italian
it might be, for it was a very mottled or motley tongue, but he might
as well have talked English or Double-Dutch to our hands, or better, for
they had picked up the meaning of some orders from me before I got used
to their lingo. And then he says ‘tis office work and superintendence
he understands. How can you superintend, I told him, what you don’t know
yourself? No, no; go home and bring a pair of hands fit for a quarryman,
before I make you overlooker.’
This was rather delightful, and it further appeared that he could
answer all Jane’s inquiries after her beloved promising lads whom he had
deported to the Rocca Marina quarries.
They were evidently kindly looked after, and she began to perceive that
it was not such a bad place after all for them, more especially as he
was in the act of building them a chapel, and one of his objects in
coming to England was to find a chaplain; and as Lord Rotherwood said,
he had come to the right shop, since Rockquay in the spring was likely
to afford a choice of clergy with weak chests, or better still, with
weak-chested wives, to whom light work in a genial climate would be the
greatest possible boon.
Altogether the evening was very pleasant, only too short. It was a
curious study for Jane Mohun how far Lady Rotherwood would give way to
her husband. She always seemed to give way, but generally accomplished
her own will in the end, and it was little likely that she would allow
the establishment to await the influx of Merrifields, though certainly
Gillian had done nothing displeasing all that evening except that
terrible blushing, for which piece of ingenuousness her aunt loved her
all the better.
At half-past ten next morning, however, Lord Rotherwood burst in to
borrow Valetta for a donkey-ride, for which his lady had compounded
instead of the paddling and castle-building, and certainly poor Val
could not do much to corrupt Fly on donkey back, and in his presence. He
further routed out Gillian, nothing loth, from her algebra, bidding her
put on her seven-leagued boots, and not get bent double--and he would
fain have seized on his cousin Jane, but she was already gone off for an
interview with the landlord of the most eligible of the two houses.
Gillian and Valetta came back very rosy, and in fits of merriment. Lord
Rotherwood had paid the donkey-boys to stay at home, and let him and
Gillian take their place. They had gone out on the common above the
town, with most amusing rivalries as to which drove the beast worst,
making Mysie umpire. Then having attained a delightfully lonely place,
Fly had begged for a race with Valetta, which failed, partly because
Val’s donkey would not stir, and partly because Fly could not bear the
shaking; and then Lord Rotherwood himself insisted on riding the donkey
that wouldn’t go, and racing Gillian on the donkey that would--and he
made his go so effectually that it ran away with him, and he pulled it
up at last only just in time to save himself from being ignominiously
stopped by an old fishwoman!
He had, as Aunt Jane said, regularly dipped Gill back into childhood,
and she looked, spoke, and moved all the better for it.