CROSS PURPOSES.
Trifles, light as air,
Are to the jealous confirmation strong
As proofs of holy writ.
--Shakespeare.
Bluebell had not visited her mother for three weeks. One Saturday Freddy
had a sore throat and would not let her out of his sight, keeping up an
incessant demand for black-currant jelly and fairy tales, and the next
week a heavy fall of snow made walking impossible. She now very often
shared the gaieties of the others. Mrs. Rolleston took great interest in
Bluebell's career. She thought it by no means improbable that Sir Timothy
should have provided for her in his will, or, indeed, that he might any
day acknowledge her; and though she took her out, and let her dance to
her heart's content, kept faithful watch to prevent any undesirable
flirtation.
So the kind-hearted lady was a good deal disturbed at seeing Jack
Vavasour, who came of an extravagant and far from wealthy family, first
in the field. After the manner of love-lorn subalterns, he haunted and
persecuted the fair object of his affections, who cared nothing about
him, and treated him as a child does its toys, sometimes pleased with
them, and at others casting them indifferently aside.
And all the time Bertie was gaining greater influence over her. But even
Cecil, whose eyes were keen, was never able to detect any evidence of a
secret understanding between them.
He regularly asked her for one valse only when they went to balls;
indeed, he could not do less. Cecil, of course, could not hear what they
talked about _then_.
There is a dreamy, intoxicating valse of Gung'l's, which he always made
her keep for him when it was played. It was a small piece of selfish
romance, for well he knew that charmed air would ever hereafter be
haunted with associations of him. How many more "stolen sweet moments" he
found in the day must be left to the reader's imagination. But stolen
they were; for Du Meresq knew Cecil's disposition, and was far from
wishing to break with her, though "why should he spare this little girl
with the chestnut hair, and the love in her deep-blue eyes?" And Bluebell
no longer shrank from being underhand. It did not strike her in that
light now. She thought of nothing but Bertie, who was so different before
the others, that she learnt to look forward to their brief chances of
being alone as much as he did. And Du Meresq, with ingenious sophistry,
expatiated on the charm of keeping their delicious secret to themselves,
uncommented on by the cold and unsympathetic.
Thus Bluebell, from being a lively, ingenuous, outspoken child, altered
into a dreamy maiden, living a hidden life of repressed excitement, whose
whole interest was the fugitive, uncertain interviews with Bertie, and an
interchanged glance, touch of the hand, or few fond words, ventured on
when the others were not attending.
"Bluebell," laughed Cecil, as a cutter drove to the door, "here is your
Lubin again." The girls had just returned from the Rink, and were
disrobing upstairs.
"Oh, he is so tiresome," said the other. "I declare I won't come down."
"That you must; we should never get rid of him; he would sit on waiting
for you. You have made such a goose of him, Bluebell, and he used to be
such fun."
"I shouldn't mind him if he was fun now; but he just sits glowering at
one, and stays so long. Why can't a person see when he is not wanted?"
"But you do want him sometimes," said Cecil. "You are always 'off' and
'on' with poor Jack. I believe, if he proposed, you would say 'No' one
day and retract the next."
They entered the drawing-room, where was young Vavasour, as usual, making
conversation to Mrs. Rolleston, who was at once bored and disproving.
Cecil shook hands pleasantly enough, but Bluebell, not even looking at
him, extended a lifeless hand in passing, and, picking up some work,
appeared absorbed in counting stitches.
Jack turned over in his own mind every possible cause of offence. He
couldn't perceive that it was he himself that was not wanted, and that
she cared not a button for anything he had done or left undone.
He talked on perseveringly with the others, glancing stealthily at
Bluebell tatting, till Cecil got up to make tea, when he moved to a seat
nearer.
"I wasn't out of uniform till four o'clock, Miss Leigh, or I should have
been at the Rink."
"So I suppose. You always go there, don't you?"
"When I expect to meet any one," trying to throw a sentimental look in
his generally laughing brown eyes.
"It isn't usually empty: but, of course, you don't go for the skating.
You'll never make anything of that."
"Any more than you will be of driving," retorted Jack. "Shall you ever
forget that crumpler down the bank? Dahlia hasn't recovered the fright
yet."
"Stupid thing; what did she jump over for? I was nearly suffocated. I am
sure there must have been a cast of me on the snow."
"It wasn't altogether unpleasant," said Jack. "We were covered up very
snug and warm, like babes in the wood. I shouldn't mind doing it again in
the same company."
"Shouldn't you?" said Bluebell, indignantly. "Then you may omit the
company." And so they went on whispering, to Mrs. Rolleston's annoyance,
till the Colonel's voice was heard bringing in a visitor--a lady of
unfashionable appearance, chiefly remarkable for the variety of knitted
articles, described in work-books as "winter comforts," displayed on her
person.
"_Ma tante_!" ejaculated Jack, incautiously; "who is this old Quiz?"
"Here is Mrs. Leigh," said Colonel Rolleston, "who says she has not seen
her daughter for three weeks. Where are you Bluebell?"
Jack felt ready to sink into the earth, while his boyish face became the
colour of a peony; and Bluebell, vexed and hurt, advanced to the maternal
embrace.
Their mutual confusion was so evident, that the Colonel put another
interpretation on it, and remarked, in a tone the reverse of
congratulatory,--"You have not been long getting out of harness,
Vavasour."
Jack muttered something, and tried to catch Bluebell's eye, agonies of
contrition in his own.
"Well, my dear, and how well you are looking," said Mrs. Leigh. "But we
have missed you at home, Aunt Jane and I. No, thank you, Mrs. Rolleston;
not at all tired. I caught the street-car at the corner, which brought
me all the way for five cents. Very respectable people in it; only one
soldier; he was not at all tipsy. I don't think your men ever are,
Colonel. Thank you, Miss Rolleston," as Cecil brought her some tea. "I'll
just unbutton my Sontag, or I shan't feel the good of it when I go out
again, shall I?"
"I have been thinking," said Mrs. Rolleston, to whom it had just occurred
that this would be a good break in Jack's attentions, "that it would be
very nice if Bluebell went home for a few days, as you have seen so
little of her."
"I'm sure I'm most grateful," said the little lady. "There, my dear, Aunt
Jane was saying only yesterday how dull it was without the child. But are
you sure she can be spared, Mrs. Rolleston?"
"Only to you," said the lady, kindly, but smiling a little, for certainly
her _duties_ were not very onerous.
Bluebell, an anxious listener, felt her heart sink at this proposal.
What, go away and leave Bertie, whose daily presence had become a
necessity to her! Besides, dreadful thought! his leave might be over ere
she returned. In desperation she said, imploringly, "Mamma will not want
me for more than a day or two," and gazed anxiously at Mrs. Rolleston,
with a world of unspoken entreaty in her eyes.
The appeal was injudicious, only confirming her impression that it was
a separation from Jack Bluebell dreaded, and she mentally put on another
week to her banishment.
"There's no hurry," said the lady, decidedly; "a change will do you good.
She shall walk over to-morrow, Mrs. Leigh; and I am very glad I thought
of it."
Bluebell, thinking all was lost, tried not to show her dismay, which
would have grieved her mother and done no good; but she remembered, with
a sinking heart, that Du Meresq was to dine out that night, and she might
get no opportunity of speaking to him alone before changing her quarters.
"I must be off home," said Mrs. Leigh. "Several little things to be done
in your room, Bluebell. The stove-pipe has got choked at the elbow, and I
must have the sweep in."
Her daughter longed to suggest that it might be more convenient to
postpone her appearance for a day; but as Mrs. Rolleston said nothing,
she could not either.
Jack, who had been all this time writhing with vexation at his
_mal-à-propos_ remark, here saw a chance of propitiating Bluebell and
putting himself on visiting terms at her home.
"My cutter is at the door," said he, addressing Mrs. Rolleston. "If Mrs.
Leigh will allow me, I shall be too happy to drive her home."
"Oh, he must be going to propose," thought the former lady, "and they
won't have twopence between them;" but she could only reply,--
"Well, Mrs. Leigh, what do you say? Will you trust yourself to Mr.
Vavasour?"
"I'm sure," said the little lady, flutteringly, "the gentleman is most
kind; but I am so timid with horses unless they are quite old. Does your
horse kick, sir?"
"Only if the rein gets under her tail."
"Ah, I should be sure to scream and snatch it--the reins, I mean, and
they say that isn't safe driving. I had better walk; and yet it is
getting dark, and I shall miss the car. What _shall_ I do, Colonel
Rolleston?"
"Drive, to be sure," said he, who wanted to get rid of them both.
"Vavasour only upsets when he gives the reins to young ladies," with
a glance at Bluebell.
"Well, I _should_ like a ride in a sleigh, if my poor nerves will let me
enjoy it," toddling to the door with Colonel Rolleston.
"I'll take the greatest care of you, Mrs. Leigh," said Jack, heartily,
grateful for a re-assuring nod from Bluebell in recognition of his
contrite gallantry. The mare, tired of waiting, became fidgety to be off.
"Oh, he is going to prance. Have you got good hold of his head, sir?" to
the groom.
"Quite correct, 'm," grinned that official. "Quiet, 'Nancy,'" that being
the stable version of "Banshee."
"Let her go," said Jack, who had just tucked Mrs. Leigh in. A couple of
bounds, a smothering scream, and they disappeared in the evening gloom.
"That there old party ain't the guvener's usual form," meditated that
bât-man, as he walked back, for the cutter only carried two. "He seems to
set a deal of store by her, though. There's some young 'ooman at home,
where she lives, I'd take my dying dick."
Cecil and her father, who had seen them off, stopped laughing together
at Mrs. Leigh's peculiarities; and Bluebell, finding herself alone with
Mrs. Rolleston, felt impelled to try if she could not curtail her
sentence of banishment. Of course, her words were intended to conceal
her thoughts--love's first lesson is always hypocrisy.
"I know I am not very much use here," she began, "but still I shouldn't
like to think I was of none, and, therefore, I really don't want to stay
away more than a day or two."
A sudden look of penetration came into Mrs. Rolleston's face, and, with
more sarcasm in her voice than Bluebell's little speech appeared to
justify, she said,--
"My dear, scrupulous child, we _can_ get on without you longer than that,
so you may, with a clear conscience, think of your mother, who is dull
this dreadful weather."
Bluebell felt caught in a mesh and incapable of extricating herself, but
she made no attempt to conceal her reluctance to going.
"How long must I stay away?" said she, dolefully.
"Just till the days get a little longer--a fortnight or three weeks,
perhaps."
Bluebell made a gesture of despair (Bertie would be gone to a certainty
by then), and looked the picture of misery. Mrs. Rolleston's suspicions
were now convictions.
"My dear Bluebell," she began, impulsively, "I know there's some reason
for your dislike to going," and she gazed fixedly at her. No denial.
Bluebell hoped Mrs. Rolleston _had_ some inkling of how things were with
her and Bertie, and had she then persisted might easily have forced her
confidence; which would have considerably enlightened and dismayed the
elder lady, whose mind, being full of Jack, had never dreamed of Bertie.
Mrs. Rolleston, however, rapidly decided it would never do to encourage
her to talk of the matter, and that she had better put her foot on it at
once.
"I have guessed your little _penchant_, dear, for some one we won't talk
about, for indeed, Bluebell, it never can come to any thing; you are both
too young and too poor. It would be a most undesirable connexion."
"She doesn't think me grand enough for her brother," suggested Bluebell's
wounded pride.
"And, therefore," pursued her Mentor, "absence is the best thing in these
cases; and when you come back I trust you will have got rid of such
hopeless fancies."
Bluebell was deeply mortified,--she lost all expectation of sympathy, and
with a touch of pride, said,--"You must know best, Mrs. Rolleston, but I
shall never care for any one else; and I must tell you honestly, _I_
can't give it up if he doesn't."
"You will not see him at home?" said the elder lady, hastily. Such a
gleam of hope irradiated Bluebell's face; she had never thought of that.
"Dear me, this is too bad!" continued the other, quite disheartened. "I
shall take care you have no more opportunities of meeting here. Bluebell,
do be warned. I only speak for your good."
"How self-interest deceives one," moralized the girl; "it is only because
I am, as she says, 'a most undesirable connexion for her brother!'"
Cecil entered at this juncture, and Bluebell, hearing the Colonel's step
also approaching, made a hasty escape from the room.
"What is the matter with her?" asked Cecil. "She brushed by me so
suddenly, and looked so strange."
"Nearly knocked me over," said the Colonel, who had caught the last
words.
"Don't notice it; I am afraid Bluebell has lost her heart to young
Vavasour; and she is miserable at going home, because she thinks she will
not see him."
"I am delighted you have put a stop to that folly," said the Colonel;
"that boy dawdles over here every afternoon. I can't have Miss Bluebell's
'followers' everlastingly caterwauling in my house."
An expression of extreme astonishment came over Cecil's face.
"Bluebell doesn't care _in the least_ for Jack Vavasour," said she.
"You are evidently not in her confidence. She told me 'she should never
care for any one else'--her very words, the little goose."
Cecil seemed lost in perplexity. "And she doesn't want to go home?" asked
she in a bewildered manner.
"Crying her eyes out at this moment I dare say."
"Then for goodness sake let her go home, and stay there till she
is better," said the Colonel, irritably. "A love lorn young lady
perpetually before me I cannot and will not endure."
His daughter's brow was knitted with thought. Bluebell was evidently in
distress at going, but that it had any reference to Jack she totally
disbelieved. A latent suspicion revived, and her face grew pained and
hard. It was near dinner time, but, instead of going up to dress, she
turned into a little smoking room to ponder it out. What motive could
Bluebell have had to avow a perfectly fictitious love affair with
Vavasour, unless it was to throw dust in Mrs. Rolleston's eyes and blind
her to, perhaps, some underhand flirtation with Bertie? Cecil's
affection for her friend received a severe wrench directly she admitted
such a possibility, and then, as she meditated, two or three incidents,
too slight to be noticed at the time, rose up to confirm it.
"Forewarned, forearmed, if that is your game, Miss Bluebell," thought
she, resolving for the future to watch narrowly. At this moment Du
Meresq, whistling 'Ah, che la morte,' burst into the room.
"Cecil here, all in the dark? Light a candle, there's a good girl, I want
my cigar case. I'm awfully late".
"Who is the Leonore you are whistling _addio_ to?" said she complying.
"I don't know, the air is running in my head."
"I thought it might be Bluebell, she is going to-morrow."
The match went out, so she could not see the expression of Bertie's face.
"How do you mean?" said he quietly.
"They think Lubin destructive to her peace of mind, so she is to go home
for a fortnight. Singular idea, isn't it."
"Bosh!" said Du Meresq, emphatically. "Well, I'm off. Good-night, Cecil."