A NEW COMPETITOR.
Emma Ashton had brought Hester's flowers, and though she was tired with
her journey, had taken a great deal of interest in Hester's dress. When
she came in to show herself to the old people in her white robes before
her ball, the stranger had surveyed her with much attention. She had
kissed her slowly and deliberately when introduced to her.
"Roland told me a great deal about you," she said. "I suppose we are
cousins too. You look very nice. I hope you will enjoy yourself." She
was a very deliberate, measured talker, doing everything steadily. When
Hester was gone, she resumed her seat beside her grandmother.
"Roland admires her very much. She is pretty, but I should think she had
a great deal of temper," Emma said.
"Temper is scarcely the word. She is a great favourite with your
grandfather--and with me too--with me too."
"Roland told me," said Emma. "When I say temper I don't mean any harm.
She would do much better for Roland if she had a good deal of temper.
That is what he wants to keep him straight; for a man ought not to flirt
after he is married, and he will, unless she keeps him in order."
"Married! but is he likely to marry? I did not hear anything of it."
"When a man can keep a sister he can keep a wife," said Emma, announcing
this fact as if it were an oracle. "He has a house, and everything that
is necessary. And of course I shall not stand in his way. I can go back
to Elinor, where I am a sort of head nurse, and cheap enough at the
money; or I can be a governess. That touches his pride--he does not like
that."
Here the old captain came back, who had been putting his favourite
carefully into the fly.
"Why has she not her mother with her?" he said. "I like a girl to have
her mother with her. It is pretty, it is natural. I do not like those
new-fashioned, independent ways."
"But they are much more convenient, grandpapa," said Emma. "Think how I
should have been situated had a girl always wanted her mother with her.
Elinor, with her family, cannot always be going out; and when she goes
she likes to amuse herself, she does not go for me. A girl going out
with her mother means a devoted sort of old lady like the mothers in
books. Such nonsense, you know--for a girl's mother, when she is
eighteen or so, is rarely more than forty, and people of forty like
amusement just as much as we do. It is better, on the whole, I think,
when every one is for herself."
"Well, that is not my opinion," said the old captain, shortly.
He was accustomed to do most of the talking himself, and it startled him
to have it thus taken out of his hand.
"I suppose an invitation will come for me," said Emma calmly, "as soon
as they know I am here; and then Hester and I can go together. Roland
said there was no dancing, but I think it always safest to bring a
ball-dress. It is not heavy, though it takes up a good deal of room; but
then you can always take one box into the carriage, and the railway only
charges by weight."
"Roland is very busy, I suppose, my dear. You only see him in the
evening?"
"I don't always see him in the evening. He has his own friends, and I am
getting a few acquaintances too. If he gives me my living and very
little to do I ought to be grateful to him, but I would not let him give
up his own amusements for me. That wouldn't be fair. Oh yes, he is very
busy. He has found so many new people to do business for down here."
"I hope to goodness he won't speculate with their money and ruin them,"
Captain Morgan said.
"Ruin! oh, I hope not. But Roland says there is nothing so exciting as
to be on the verge of ruin. He says it is better than a play: for
instead of looking on at the acting, the acting is going on inside of
you. But it is his trade to speculate, isn't it, grandpapa? That is what
he is there for, and he is very good at it they say. I suppose this girl
has not any money? When they are pretty and nice they seldom have."
"What girl?" said Captain Morgan, almost haughtily--as haughtily and
harshly as the old gentleman could persuade himself to speak.
"Doesn't he know, grandmamma?" said Emma, "the girl Roland admired so
much: and she would just do for him, if she had some money: but so nice
looking as he is, and so well established in business, I don't think,
unless there is money, he should throw himself away."
"Is it Hester Vernon that you mean?" asked the captain in an angry
voice.
"She does not mean any harm, Rowley. Don't you see Hester is just to her
an abstract person, not the dear girl she is to you and me. And Emma,"
said the old lady almost with timidity, "I fear your ball-dress will not
be of much use. Mrs. Merridew will not think of inviting you--she will
not perhaps know you are here."
"Roland met her, grandmamma," said Emma calmly. "He told me; we are all
cousins, I believe. She will be sure to invite me, or if not, you will
be able to get me an invitation. People always exert themselves to get
invitations for girls. It is like helping young men on in business. We
cannot go and make acquaintances for ourselves as young men go and set
up offices, but we must have our chance, you know, as well. Of course,"
said Emma in her deliberate way, "it is for everybody's advantage that
we should have our chance as well as the men."
"And what do you call your chance?" said Captain Morgan. He planted
himself in the front of the fireplace with his legs very wide apart,
which, as his wife well understood, meant war.
"My old man," she said, "what do you know about the talk of girls? They
have one way of thinking, and we have another. They are young, and we
are old."
"Hester is younger than she is," said the captain, "let her alone. She
is as ready to talk as there is any need to be."
"My chance, grandpapa?" said Emma with a slow little laugh. "It is not
necessary, is it, to explain? a girl's chance is in making--friends. If
one goes for a governess one's family does not like it. They would
rather you were your sister's head nurse with all the trouble, and
without any pay. Roland has taken me now--and I do not require to work
for my living; but it is not so very cheerful with Roland that I should
not wish--if I could--to make a change. We must all think of ourselves
you know."
"My dear," said the old lady in her soft voice, "in one way that is very
true."
"It is very true, I think, in every way. It might be cheerful for me if
Roland were to spend his evenings at home as Tom Pinch in Dickens did
with his sister. But then Roland is not a bit like Tom Pinch, and I said
to him when I came, 'You are not to change your life for me.' So that
sometimes, you know, I am in the house all alone all day, and then if he
is out to dinner, or if he has any evening engagement, I am alone all
the night. And if he were to marry, why there would be an end of me
altogether. So you see, grandmamma, wherever I am, it is very natural
that I should wish to have my chance."
"How old are you?" said the captain abruptly.
"I shall be twenty-three at Christmas," said Emma, raising her eyes to
his face. She was curious to know why he asked--whether he thought her
older, or younger than her age, whether he thought it was strange she
should still be unmarried. "I was kept very much out of sight when I was
with Elinor," she said half apologetically. She had not had her "chance"
as she had always wished to have. She had not been very well treated she
felt in this life, the youngest of seven. She had been passed on from
one to another of her married sisters to make herself useful. All of
them had said that Emma must "come out," but no one had taken any
trouble about it. She had to scramble for a dress, a very cheap one, and
to coax Elinor into taking her to some little local merrymaking, and so
opening, as it were, the gates of society. As soon as she could say that
she was "out" Emma had kept the idea of having "her chance" of making
friends and getting invitations always before her. But her opportunities
had not been great, and Elinor had not devoted herself to her younger
sister. She was still young enough to amuse herself, and it had not
occurred to her to put so unimportant a person as Emma in the
foreground. So that she had never been allowed to have much of a
"chance." Emma had not much experience of the world. Of the many novels
she had read, and which were her guides to life, a great many devoted
themselves to the history and description of young ladies at whose
entrance into a ball-room every man present fell metaphorically on his
knees. She was acquainted with many evening parties in fiction at which
the fate of countless young men and women was decided. The smallest
dance would be represented there as bringing people together who were
never more to be sundered. Emma herself had not produced any such
sensation at the small parties she had hitherto gone to, but she felt
that this glory must be awaiting her, and especially that in a new place
like this Redborough, in some waltz or other, among some unknown
assembly she should meet her fate.
This being the case, it is not to be wondered at that she should lose no
time in announcing her certainty of an invitation to anything so likely
to conduce to such an object as Ellen Merridew's dancing teas. She had
come down to Redborough prepared to be cousin to all the world. Roland,
indeed, had taken pains to explain that Catherine Vernon's cousins were
not actually _her_ cousins, but she had thought it better in many ways
to ignore this, and to descend upon the new scene with the most amiable
disposition to embrace as a near relative every Vernon presented to her.
Among them all, what could be more likely than that her fate should be
found? She meant no harm to anybody. It would be doing no harm,
certainly, if any young man fell in love with her, to make him happy by
marrying him. She felt most strongly the supreme necessity of marrying
for her own part. She had no disguise with herself on this subject, and
with her grandparents she did not think it necessary to have any
disguise. Everything was involved in it. Roland had taken the
responsibility of her upon himself and given her a home, with very
little to do, and enough to make her sufficiently comfortable. Emma had
always been brought up to consider everything from a strictly practical
point of view. She had been taught to believe that she had no right to
anything, that it was out of their bounty and charity that her brothers
and sisters, now one, now another, afforded her a temporary home. And
she was very comfortable with Roland--but if he were to marry, what
then? The comfort of having a home of her own, a husband of her own with
a settled income, was to Emma in prospect the crown of all good things.
She would not have been ashamed to say so if necessary; and it was in
balls and parties and picnics and social meetings generally, that a
young woman had her chance of suddenly obtaining, by looking pretty, by
making herself agreeable, all these good things at a stroke. She made up
her mind at once that heaven and earth must be moved to get her an
invitation to Mrs. Algernon Merridew's _Thés Dansantes_. She would not
take, she said to herself, any denial. She would see all the Redborough
people there, among whom there must certainly be some individuals of the
class upon which depended Emma's fate. As she sat unfolding so much of
this as was needful with a calm confidence in being understood, her
grandparents, with a sort of stupefaction, listened and looked on. Emma
was knitting all the time in the German way, with a very slight swift
movement of her fingers and without looking at her work. She spoke
slowly, with an air of such undoubted fact and practical commonplace
about her, that those two old people, who each in their several ways
indulged in fancy and sentiment, were daunted and silenced. Emma spoke
in a sort of saintly simplicity, as not knowing that anything beyond
those solid primitive foundations, anything like sentiment or fancy, was
in the world.
She was not handsome like her brother, and yet there was something
remarkable about her appearance which some people admired. Her hair was
dark, her features sufficiently good. The strange thing in her was her
eyes, which were very light in colour--so light, that sometimes there
seemed no colour at all in them. This was not beautiful, but it was
_bizarre_ and unusual, and as such Emma had her admirers. But it was
only in this particular, not in mind or thoughts, that there was
anything in her out of the way.
"Well?" said the old captain to his wife, when, after having yawned
softly over her work as a signal and preparation for bed-going, Emma
rose with a smile at half-past ten, and kissed them both, and asked if
she might have her candle. "I must not keep you out of bed," she said,
with that look of complacent consideration which, notwithstanding, was
quite innocent and referred to her own circumscribed horizon, in which
everything connected with herself was well in the foreground. Mrs.
Morgan did not meet her husband's eye as she had met it when Roland was
the visitor.
"She has not been well brought up, poor thing!" the old lady said. "She
has had no one to care for her--and, Rowley, she is our own flesh and
blood."
"That's the wonderful thing," the captain said, "Katie's child! My dear,
I give it up; there seems no reason and no sense in it. I cannot think
what the Lord can mean."
"Oh, hush, Rowley--nothing, nothing that is not good."
"One would say--that there must be just a crowd of souls ready to put
into the new little bodies, and that one must slip down before the other
that ought to come;--like that vile cad, you know, that slipped into the
pool of Siloam before the poor fellow that had no servant could shuffle
down."
"And that was all the better for your poor fellow as it turned out,
Rowley, for he got his healing more sweetly out of the very hand----
And, poor little spirit, if it was not intended for this body, I can't
think it has got very much by its deceit," Mrs. Morgan said, with a
little laugh.
But the captain did not laugh. There was consternation in his soul.
"A girl," he said, "with her eyes open to all chances, looking out for a
husband, and seriously thinking that is the right thing to do--to come
from you and me, Mary--to come from you and me!"
The old lady gave him her hands that he might help her out of her chair,
and when she stood upright, tottering a little--for she was not strong
upon her legs--she gave him a little playful tap with her finger upon
his old cheek.
"You are just a high-flown old sentimentalist," she said. "There is no
harm in her. She is only prose to your poetry--which I've always been
all our lives, and you've said so many a day."
"Don't blaspheme, old woman, don't blaspheme," the captain said.
But next day, when Hester came in to give them the account--which she
knew the old people would expect--of all that had happened, Emma lost no
time in making her desires known.
"It must have been a very pretty party," she said; "a conservatory
lighted like that is always so nice. It is cool to sit in after you have
got heated with dancing. I wish I could have seen you all enjoying
yourselves. I am so fond of dancing, and I don't get much; for Roland
does not care for dancing parties, and at Waltham Elinor never had time.
I suppose you had an invitation, grandmamma, though you are too old to
go?"
Here Hester explained, wondering, that there were very few chaperons,
and nobody asked but people who were known to dance.
"Ellen says it only tires the others, and what is the use?" Hester said.
"That is very true; she must be judicious--she must have right notions.
When do you think my invitation will come, grandmamma? I suppose people
will call when they know I am here?"
Here there was a little pause, for even Mrs. Morgan was taken aback by
this question, and did not know what to say.
"I am sure," said Hester blushing, after a minute's silence, "that if
Miss Ashton would--like it so very much----"
"Oh, I should, of course, _very_ much. I want to know the Redborough
people. I like to know the people wherever I go. It is so dull knowing
no one," Emma said. "And then it would be so convenient, you know, for I
could go with--you----"
To this Hester did not know what to reply; but it was well in one way
that the new comer took it all for granted and gave no trouble. Emma
made no account of embarrassed looks and hesitating replies. She did not
even notice them, but pursued her own way deliberately, impervious to
any discouragement, which was more equivocal than a flat "No." She had
been used to "noes" very flat and uncompromising, and everything less
seemed to her to mean assent. When she had disposed, as she thought, of
this question, she went on to another which was of still greater
importance.
"But I cannot expect Cousin Catherine to call upon me," she said
composedly. "She is too old, and she is always treated as a kind of
princess, Roland says. And you are too old to take me, grandmamma.
Perhaps I could go with Hester. Would that be the right thing? For they
all say I must not neglect Cousin Catherine."
Hester looked aghast upon the young woman, who contemplated them so
calmly over her knitting, and talked of neglecting Catherine, and being
called upon by the sovereign of society, who left even the Redborough
magnates out, and called only upon those who pleased her. Emma went on
quite placidly, knitting with the ends of her fingers in that phlegmatic
German way, which is an offence to English knitters. The stocking went
on dropping in longer and longer lengths from her hands, as if twirling
upon a leisurely wheel. She had explained that they were knickerbocker
stockings, for Elinor's boys, which she was always busy with.
"She gives me so much for them, for every dozen pairs--and the wool; I
make a little by it, and it is much cheaper for her than the shops."
"Your grandfather will take you--some day," said Mrs. Morgan hastily.
"Oh, that will do very well, but it ought to be soon," Emma said. She
returned to the subject after Hester had given a further account of the
merrymaking of the previous night.
"Are you all great friends?" said Emma, "or are there little factions as
there generally are in families? Elinor and William's wife used always
to be having tiffs, and then the rest of us had to take sides. I never
would. I thought it was wisest not. I was nobody, you know, only the
youngest. And when one has to stay a few months here and a few months
there, without any home of one's own, it is best to keep out of all
these quarrels, don't you think, grandmamma? Roland said there were some
old things living here, some old maids that were spiteful."
Now it is curious enough that though the Miss Vernon-Ridgways were not
at all approved by their neighbours, it gave these ladies a shock to
hear an outsider describe them thus.
"Never mind that," said Mrs. Morgan, almost impatiently. "Are you going
further, Hester? If you want my old man, tell him not to stay out too
long, for the wind is cold to-day."
"I am going to Redborough," Hester said. "I have some things to do for
mamma."
"Oh, you must take me with you," said Emma--"just one moment till I have
turned this heel. I never like to leave a heel midway. I want to see
Redborough of all things. Grandmamma, you will not mind me leaving
you--I want to see all I can, as I don't know how long I may stay."
"Do you mind, Hester?" the old lady said in a little alarm, as having
finished the heel, and put her knitting carefully away in a long basket
made to hold the length of her needles, Emma went up stairs to get her
hat. Hester laughed a little and hesitated, for though she was not moved
to enthusiasm by Emma, she was young enough to like the novelty of a new
companion, whoever that might be.
"I hope she will not make me take her to see Catherine. Catherine would
not be very gracious to any one whom I brought her. Dear Mrs. Morgan, I
wanted to ask you--Was Catherine----Did Catherine----"
"What, my dear?"
"Nothing--I can't tell you before any one. It was something I heard
from----last night. Yes, I am quite ready, Miss Ashton," Hester said.
"It is grand to be called Miss Ashton, but I wish you would say Emma. It
makes me feel as if I were some one's governess when you say Miss
Ashton. I nearly was," said Emma. "You know we are a large family, eight
of us, and we had no money. I am sure I can't tell how we managed to
grow up. It was thanks to Elinor I believe; she was the only one who
could manage papa. And now they are all provided for, but only me.
Elinor and Bee made very good marriages, and Kate didn't do so badly
either, but she's gone to India. The others were to help me between
them, but that is not very nice. They are always scheming to have as
little of you as they can, and to make the others have too much. I never
would give in to that. I always kept to my day. I used to say 'No, Bee,
my time is up. I don't mind where you put me (for I never made any fuss
in that sort of way, it turns the servants against you), I can sleep
anywhere, but you must keep your turn. Elinor sha'n't be put upon if I
can help it,' and the short and the long of it was that I had as nearly
as possible taken a governess's place."
"That would have been better surely--to be independent," Hester said.
"In some ways. To have a paid salary would be very nice--but it hurts a
girl's chance. Oh, yes, it does," said Emma, "there is no doubt of it:
people say not when they want to coax you into it, but it does--and as
all the others have married so well, of course I was very unwilling to
do anything to damage my chance."
"What was your chance?" said Hester with a set countenance: partly she
did not know, and partly from the context she divined, and meant to
crush her companion with lofty indignation: but Emma was not quick
enough to perceive the moral disapproval. She was not even conscious
that it was possible to disapprove of such an elemental necessity.
"Oh, you know very well," she said with a little laugh. "I have never
been a flirt. I haven't got any inclination that way. Of course in my
position I would think it my duty to consider any offer. But I was very
nearly driven to the governessing," she continued calmly. "Elinor had
visitors coming, and Bee was so ill-natured as to start painting and
papering just as I was due there. Can you imagine anything more nasty?
just to be able to say she could not take me in! I just said I must take
a situation, and they were in a way. But I do really believe I should
have done it had it not been for Roland. He said it would suit him very
well to have me. He had just got a house of his own, you know, and I
could be of use to him. So he took me, which was very kind. It is a
little dull after being used to children, but I have scarcely anything
to do, and he gives me a little allowance for my clothes. Don't you
think it is very kind?"
"I would much rather be a governess," Hester said with a glow of
indignant pride. This matter-of-fact description of the state of
dependence, which was made without any sense of injury at all, with the
composure of an individual fully capable of holding her own and looking
for nothing else, had an effect upon her sensitive mind which it is
impossible to describe. She shrank from the revelation as if it had been
something terrible; and yet it was not terrible at all, but the most
calm historic account of a state of affairs which seemed perfectly
natural to every one concerned. Emma knew that she would herself have
employed any possible expedient to get rid of an unnecessary member of
her household, especially such a detrimental as "the youngest"--and she
was not angry with Bee.
"Ah, you don't know children," said Emma serenely. "I have been used to
them all my life, and I know what demons they are; and then it does so
spoil your chances in life. Being with Roland is very nice you know, he
never orders me about, and he gives me an allowance for my clothes, as I
told you. But it is much duller. At Elinor's and Bee's, and even at
William's, there's a little life going on. Now and then you can't help
seeing people. Even when your sisters don't wish it, people will ask you
out when they know you're there. And I must say that for Elinor, that
when she's not worried she does take a little trouble about you, and
always likes to see you look nice. To be sure with five boys and a
husband in business, she is worried," Emma added with impartiality,
"most of the time. What is that big house, that red one, so near the
road? Nice people ought to live there."
"That is the Grange," said Hester, with a sudden flush, "that is
Catherine Vernon's house."
"Oh--h! But then why should I lose any time? It would look better that I
should go at once, the very first day. I suppose you run in whenever you
please."
Hester's countenance flamed more than ever. "I never go--except when I
go with my mother. Catherine would not care to see you with me. She is
very fond of your grandfather and grandmother--but not so fond of us.
And she is quite right, we don't deserve it so much," Hester said,
flinging back her young head with that movement of natural pride which
belonged to her. Just then, to make the situation more complicated,
Edward came out from the gate, and seeing the two figures on the road,
hesitated for a moment, conscious of Catherine's eye behind him, and
Hester's keen consciousness before.
"Oh," said Emma again, "then there _are_ factions? I am sure I am very
glad grandpapa is on Catherine's side; for Elinor said, and then Roland
told me---- Who is that? Oh, then, there are _men_ there? I thought she
lived alone. He looks rather nice, though I like men to be taller than
that. Mind you introduce me, and walk a little faster please, before he
gets away."
Hester's response to this was naturally the indignant one of walking
more slowly, so as to give the hesitating figure at the gate full time
to get away. But Edward had thought better of it. On the whole, he found
it more undesirable to encounter Hester's disdain than anything
Catherine would be likely to say. And just at that hour after luncheon
Catherine generally abandoned her seat in the window. It was true that
he very seldom came back to lunch. He advanced accordingly a few steps
from the door, and held out his hand. "I am glad to see you are none the
worse of our dissipations last night," he said.
"Introduce me," said Emma, keeping her place close to Hester's side, "we
are all cousins together, though we don't know each other. I wanted to
go in at once to see Cousin Catherine, whom I have heard of all my life;
but she will not let me. Perhaps you will mention it to Cousin
Catherine. I will come as soon as I can get grandpapa to bring me. It is
so much more formal than I thought. Among relations generally one runs
out and in, and never thinks twice, but that does not seem to be your
way here."
"No, it is not our way here. We hold each other at arm's length. We are
not even civil if we can help it," said Edward, with a laugh and a
glance at Hester, who stood, the impersonation of unwilling politeness,
holding herself back, in an attitude which said as plainly as words,
that though their way was the same she did not choose to be accompanied,
by him, along even that common way.
"I see," said Emma. "I am sure I am very sorry I made you stand and
talk, Hester, when you dislike it so much. Of course, among relations
one understands all that. Do you live here? I remember now Roland told
me there were some gentlemen-cousins, but I am quite a stranger, and I
don't know anything. Hester is going to take me to see the little town."
"You must not say 'little town' to any of the Redborough people, Miss
Ashton."
"Oh, mustn't I? At Waltham nobody minds. I should like to see the Bank
where all the Vernon money comes from. The Vernon money has never done
us any good I believe, but still when one is connected with money one
likes to see all about it at least. Do you think, Hester, this gentleman
would be so good as to see about my invitation? I don't know if Mrs.
----, I forget her name, who gives the dances--is your sister, Mr.
Vernon."
"Mrs. Merridew is my cousin," said Edward.
"Oh, cousin, is it? I suppose we are all cousins. Naturally I should
like an invitation: but I suppose it is because of the splits in the
family, grandmamma doesn't seem to wish to do anything about it, and
Hester hesitated, you know, just as you hesitated, Mr. Vernon, before
you came to speak to us. What a pity that there should be such to-does:
but where there are a large number of people in a family, of course it
can't always be helped. I have always found gentlemen were more
good-natured than ladies about getting one invitations. If you were to
tell Mrs. Merridew I am here, even if she didn't think it right to call
as most people would, at least she might send me a ticket. I can't have
anything to do with either side, seeing I only arrived yesterday, and
don't know a word about it: but I do like to make acquaintance with a
place wherever I go."
"I will see that my cousin sends you an invitation, Miss Ashton, at
least if she will do what I ask her. I have got my work waiting me.
Pardon me if I go on."
"Oh, we are going the same way. I suppose we are going the same way?"
said Emma, looking at her companion.
"You walk quicker than we do, and I dare say you are in a hurry," said
Hester ungraciously. She did not respond to the look of mingled reproach
and relief which he gave her. The very vicinity of Catherine Vernon's
house stiffened Hester into marble, and Edward was very anxious to go
on. He stood still for one moment with his hat in his hand, then
hastened on, at a rate very little like his usual mode of progression.
Hester on her part followed with studious lingering, pausing to point
out to her companion the view over the Common, the roofs of the
Redborough houses, the White House on the opposite slope. Emma naturally
conceived her own suspicions from this curious piece of pantomime. They
had been walking smartly before, they walked slowly now--and hers was
what she thought a romantic imagination. She felt confident that these
two were true lovers separated by some family squabble, and that they
did not venture to be seen walking together. "I know we were going the
same way," she said, "because there are not two ways, and you can see
the town before you. I can't see why we might not have walked together.
It is sinful to carry family tiffs so far," Emma said.