THE FIRST SKIRMISH.
The circle of Mr. Effingham’s acquaintance was large, and even in the
dull wintry season Clemence found that the claims of society took up
much of her time and attention. Knocks were frequent at her door;
numerous visitors came to introduce themselves to the young wife of the
wealthy banker. Clemence felt at first embarrassed, then amused, then
wearied by that which lost its charm with its novelty. She became tired
of ringing changes on the weather, the last new book, political
prospects, and the movements of the court, with a succession of wearers
of velvet bonnets and furred mantillas, whom she scarcely knew even by
name. Clemence had not as yet much of the small change of conversation,
and she had not the courage to produce her gold. Mrs. Effingham seldom
entered her carriage, which was usually at the disposal of Lady Selina;
Clemence being well pleased to purchase, by relinquishing the luxury of
a drive, a little respite from the oppressive companionship of the
earl’s daughter.
At Mr. Effingham’s desire, Clemence, early in December, issued cards of
invitation for that most formal, and, to a young housewife, most
formidable of entertainments—a grand dinner party. She was almost
ashamed to find how much her thoughts were occupied by earthly cares,
how large a share of her anxious attention was given to preparations for
an event of such comparatively trivial importance. Lady Selina, indeed,
regarded such arrangements as part of the chief business of life, and
did her best to wind up to nervous anxiety Clemence’s desire to order
all things so as to do credit to her husband’s establishment. The
favourite topic of Lady Selina now appeared to be the strange mistakes,
the unpardonable blunders which had occurred within, and far beyond, the
limits of her experience, at parties given by the uninitiated. She also
delighted to expatiate on such qualities in the expected guests as might
render them formidable to their young hostess. Lord Vaughan was a
connoisseur in the culinary art, and paid an unheard-of salary to his
French cook; Lady Praed always detected at a glance the smallest error
in matters of form; Colonel Parsons and Sir William Page were keen
opponents in politics, and it would require much tact and management on
the part of Mrs. Effingham to ward off any unpleasant discussion.
Clemence listened, sighed, and heartily wished that the dreaded evening
were over.
Then serious cares disturbed her. The more the young wife entered into
the details of her establishment, the more she became aware of the
difficulties which surrounded her at every step. Her servants appeared
in a combination to overreach and deceive her. Every effort to introduce
greater order and economy into her household was met with dogged
opposition, and Mrs. Ventner resented all interference on the part of
her mistress as a personal injury. The annoyance which Clemence had to
endure from the members of her family was of a more painful nature.
Arabella and Louisa never forgot—their aunt would never have suffered
them to forget—that if Mrs. Effingham was placed above them by marriage,
by birth she was not their equal. Clemence, inexperienced as she was,
had sufficient natural powers of observation to detect the radical
errors in the education of the daughters of her husband. But while she
perceived the evil, she sought in vain for its cure; and the joyous
hopes with which she had commenced her married life, like the fabled
wings of Icarus melting in the sultry beams of the sun, no longer bore
her buoyantly aloft!
It is, perhaps, only those who have known little of common cares who can
smile on them as a trifling burden. To the young and the sensitive, who
have hitherto trodden earth almost as free from petty anxieties as the
bird on the wing, or the blossom on the tree, the sudden pressure of new
responsibilities is sometimes almost overwhelming. They could better
endure hardship and pain; human compassion might then bring them relief,
and they would more fully realize the blessed consolations of religion.
And yet, is the command which embodies a precious privilege—the command
to cast all our cares upon One who careth for us—limited only to that
class of trials which man recognizes as afflictions? All earthly events
in the sight of our Great Master must appear in themselves to be but
trifles; but when connected with their effects upon immortal beings,
when made a means to train and discipline souls, the merest trifles
assume weight and importance. A teacher’s anxieties, a housewife’s
cares, the responsibilities of the mistress of an establishment, seem of
too trivial and uninteresting a nature even for the light pages of a
fiction; but yet they, in the history of thousands and tens of
thousands, form “the sum of human things.” A decisive battle may be
fought even in the narrow limits of a home. Solomon prayed for wisdom
from above to direct aright the affairs of a kingdom; the same wisdom in
kind, though not in degree, is required by the humblest matron who would
rule her household in the fear of God; and where Solomon sought, she
must seek it.
“I could wish that I were ten years older!” said Clemence to herself,
as, seated in a large arm-chair, she nervously awaited the appearance of
a servant whose conduct had given just subject for displeasure, and to
whom she felt it necessary to administer rebuke. “I almost think that
Vincent and I would enjoy life more in some country cottage, with just
one maid to attend on us, away from all this grandeur and state,
contented and happy in each other. Money does not seem worth all the
care and trouble that it brings. I was much merrier last Christmas time,
when, with my well-filled basket on my arm, I trod over the crisp snow
on my way from cottage to cottage, sure of a welcome everywhere from
lips that would not flatter and hearts that would not deceive! I have,
perhaps, larger means of usefulness here, but not of that kind of work
which would most warm and gladden my own spirit! It is pleasanter to
build up than to pull down—to do good than to oppose evil—to serve God
by winning blessings from man, than to serve Him by drawing on one’s
self the anger and dislike of others. But what is clear duty must be
done, whether it be painful or pleasant. We are not left to choose our
own work, but we must trust to be given strength to perform it bravely.”
A few days before the one fixed upon for the party, Mr. Effingham left
Belgrave Square for a short period upon business. It was Clemence’s
first separation from her husband since their marriage, and she felt
that during his absence all the sunshine of her life would be gone. To
have been left quite alone would have been less painful; it was far
worse than solitude to be left with her step-daughters and Lady Selina.
The haughty shyness which Arabella and Louisa had at first displayed
before Mrs. Effingham had entirely worn away. They rather now, at least
while their father was absent, made a parade of their perfect ease, and
on the evening preceding his return chatted together with Mademoiselle
Lafleur, as if scarcely aware of their step-mother’s presence. Clemence
sat quietly at her work, a pained listener to a flow of folly and
gossip. Lady Selina appeared to be dozing in her arm-chair before the
fire.
At length the conversation turned upon the clergyman whose ministry the
family regularly attended—an earnest, good, but eccentric man. Arabella
began turning him into ridicule, to the great amusement of her sister
and governess, but the indignation of Mrs. Effingham.
“He ought to be elected preacher to the blind,” laughed Louisa; “it
would be so much better not to be able to see him!”
“They would make him over to the deaf and dumb,” rejoined her sister;
“for it would be better still not to be able to hear him!”
Clemence felt that she should no longer keep silence—she felt that she
was bound to bear her witness to what was right in the presence of the
children of her husband; and yet, reluctant as she was to give pain or
offence, her reproof was couched in the mildest language, and uttered in
the most gentle tone.
“Do you not think, dear Arabella,” said the step-mother, “that when we
listen to the preaching of the Word, it is rather upon the message than
the messenger that we should fix our earnest attention?”
It was the first time that Clemence Effingham had ventured on anything
approaching to a rebuke to her step-daughters. Her words, so strongly
contrasting with the tone of the preceding conversation, had the effect
of instantaneously silencing it; and such an uncomfortable stillness
succeeded that Clemence at last felt herself forced to break it.
“I think that I must propose a little sociable reading,” she said, “to
make the evenings pass pleasantly while my husband is away. It will give
us subjects to think of and talk over. I remember that my dear father
used often to say that it is far safer and better, as a general rule, to
converse about _things_ than about _persons_.”
“Had his unfortunate patients to take his precepts as well as his
physic?” cried Arabella, with a pert insolence which was intended to
“put down” the first attempt of her step-mother to interfere with her
perfect freedom.
If Lady Selina was asleep, her dreams must have been of a pleasing
nature, for they called up a smile on her face. Louisa and mademoiselle
glanced at each other, and then at Mrs. Effingham, to see how the insult
would be taken.
A burning flush rose to the cheek of Clemence,—she had been touched in a
most tender part; not that she was so keenly sensible to the allusion to
her own humble parentage intended to be conveyed in the flippant remark,
but anything like disrespect to the memory of her venerated father stung
her to the quick. Her heart glowed with angry resentment; it was with a
painful effort that she repressed the expression of it. Clemence paused
for a few seconds till she could speak calmly, then, with a quiet
dignity, said, “Arabella Effingham, you appear scarcely to recollect
that you address yourself to the wife of your father.”
Arabella started from her seat, and hastily left the room, shutting the
door violently behind her. Not another word was spoken for some time in
the drawing-room, and Louisa and her governess took the first
opportunity of quietly following Arabella, and leaving Mrs. Effingham to
that which was ever to her most depressing—a _tête-à-tête_ with Lady
Selina.
“She has thrown down the gauntlet! she has chosen to commence the war!”
exclaimed Arabella, as, pacing up and down her room, with all her proud
spirit flashing from her eyes, she poured out her indignation to her
sister and mademoiselle. “If she expects that she’s to rule and dictate
here, she’ll find herself very much mistaken; the daughters of Lady
Arabella Effingham never will bow to the control of the orphan of an
apothecary!”
“We must take care, though, that we do not bring ourselves to grief,”
said Louisa, who was, if not more cautious, yet less irritable by
nature; “she has papa’s ear, and may set him against us. I dare say
she’s as spiteful as a toad—those meek, sanctified creatures always
are!”
Clemence went early to her own room, but it was very long before she
retired to rest. Her spirits were fluttered and agitated. In vain had
been all her efforts to conciliate, all her attempts to win for herself
the affections of her husband’s daughters. She saw stretching before
her, in endless perspective, a prospect of disunion and dissension,
proud insolence and malicious enmity. Clemence leaned her brow on her
clasped hands, and the hot tears trickled slowly down her cheeks, as she
repeated to herself the words of the wise king: _Better is a dinner of
herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith_.
“And how will it all end?” she murmured. “Is it not hard that I, who
never willingly offended a human being, should be the object of such
determined dislike, should find hatred where I proffer love, and be
regarded as an enemy by those whom I would sacrifice much to serve? Is
it not hard?”—the words died upon her lips, a feeling of self-reproach
arose in the young wife’s breast. What was she, that she should look for
exemption from the common lot of her Master’s followers? Had she any
right to murmur under the pressure of a daily cross? _Hard!_—and had it
ever been promised that life should be all softness and enjoyment? Would
it not be folly to expect it? would it not be cowardice to desire it? If
the Christian, overlooking second causes, fix his thoughts on an
all-directing Providence, he will see how that Providence, working by
earthly means, makes even the unkindness that wounds, and the malice
that injures, important aids in forming the characters of the heirs of
glory. It was from the elements of chaos that God drew forth a world of
beauty; and some of His children’s fairest virtues spring, as it were,
from the evil around them. Patience could not have birth in heaven, nor
forgiveness in the society of angels; without opposition Christian
firmness could not appear, nor without trials be shown resignation.
Clemence pondered over the words, _If ye love them which love you, what
reward have you? do not even the publicans the same?_ and a clearer
light than had ever been granted to her before fell on the command,
_Love your enemies_—that divine command, enforced by a divine Example,
and requiring divine aid to fulfil. Her hopes of overcoming the
prejudices of her husband’s family were now becoming faint; but a nobler
hope had succeeded—the hope of overcoming her own feelings of resentment
towards them, and of pleasing her heavenly Master by a meek endeavour to
fulfil His will. Were not the hearts of all in His hands?
While Arabella and Louisa were revolving schemes of opposition, and
their aunt was secretly rejoicing in the disunion, which had chiefly
resulted from her own malicious efforts, Clemence knelt down and
earnestly, fervently prayed in the silence of her chamber. Nor prayed
she alone for herself, or the husband dearer than self, but separately
and by name for each of the members of her family. If the prayer was not
answered for all, was it not returned in blessings into her own
bosom—the blessing of that peace in the heart which is even more
priceless than peace in the home?
------------------------------------------------------------------------