CECIL PUT TO THE TEST.
"You think me unjust to Mr. Chamberlayne," said Captain Heath one
morning to Blanche, as they sat together in the drawing-room
discussing the character of her lover, "because you are so young and
know so little of the world, that you trust appearances, and cannot
pierce beneath them."
"But I cannot be mistaken in supposing him very good hearted, and
wonderfully clever."
"He is good tempered, not good hearted; cleverish, but not clever.
It is natural that you should mistake the characteristics of good
temper for those of a good heart--most people do so."
"And is not a good temper a sign of a good heart?"
"No, my dear Blanche, not in the least; it is very often only the
sign of a weak and indolent organization--sometimes of mere cold
selfishness. You look indignant. I do not say it is a sign in him
of selfishness, I only say it is no sign of goodness."
"But what makes you so illiberal towards him?"
"Illiberal! I am merely and strictly just. I do not like him,
because he is weak and insincere."
"Insincere!"
"Yes; he toadies your father by pretending to care about Horace and
your father's commentary, which he laughs at behind his back."
"It is your dislike," said Blanche, rising and colouring, "which
distorts your usual candid judgment. You do not like him, and you
misinterpret everything. I won't have him abused. I like him very
much--very much, and I can't sit and hear you talk so of him." She
left the room.
Captain Heath did not stir. He had never seen such an exhibition of
temper on the part of Blanche before. She was greatly moved, it was
evident. And there could be but one cause for her agitation--that
cause made the captain thoughtful.
The truth is, he loved Blanche, and now seemed for the first time to
see that she loved Cecil. He had vaguely suspected it before. This
was a confirmation. His lip quivered as he said, "She is perhaps
right. My dislike may be groundless. I will try him."
Cecil shortly afterwards sauntered in.
"Are you for a game at billiards," said the captain.
Cecil stared at such an invitation from one whom he had never seen in
the billiard-room since his arrival, but accepted, with some
curiosity as to how the "solemn prig" would play.
The dislike was mutual; and mutually did they libel each other.
"By George! you play a first-rate game," said Cecil, amazed at the
skill of his antagonist, whom he expected to find an indifferent hand.
"Yes, I play well," quietly answered the captain. "I used to play a
great deal when with my regiment. But you are stronger at it than I
am."
Cecil thought so, but would not acknowledge it. Nevertheless, the
captain won three games in succession, which considerably irritated
his antagonist, who began to swear at the chalk, to abuse the table,
to change his cues frequently, and to throw the blame of his
non-success upon anything and everything except his want of skill.
The captain, who was critically observing him throughout the game to
see if his opinion was well or ill founded, smiled scornfully at all
these ebullitions. He had judged rightly in assuming that the best
moment for observing a man's real character is during a game of
chance and skill combined. Then it is that a man unbends, and shows
himself as he really is. The self-love is implicated; and, as both
vanity and money are at stake, you see a mind acting under the
impulsion of two of its most powerful stimulants. Cecil, who was
both vain and weak, was betrayed into a hundred little expressions of
his character; and, as he was also somewhat less than
delicate--without being at all dishonourable--in money matters, he
led the captain to think ill of him on that score.
Having made up his mind as to Cecil's real worth, he determined to
put him to the trial on a matter in which he was himself directly
interested.
"Have you ever played with Violet?" he asked. "She is a wonderful
hand. But then she does everything well. (I doubt whether I can
make this cannon--yes, there it is.) What a splendid creature she
is! Isn't she?"
"Splendid, indeed! They are all three lovely girls, though in such
different styles."
"(How stands the game? Seven, love: good.) What a sad thing it is,
though, to think such girls should be absolutely without fortune.
(Good stroke!)"
Cecil was chalking his cue when this bomb fell at his feet; he
suspended that operation, and said,--
"What do you mean by their having no fortune?"
"Why, the estate is entailed, and Vyner, who is already greatly in
debt, will neither have saved any money to leave them when he dies,
nor be able to give them anything but their trousseaux when they
marry."
"The devil!"
"(That's a teasing stroke: one of the worst losing hazards. You must
take care.)"
This last remark, though applied to the game, was too applicable to
Cecil's own condition for him not to wince. The captain's eye was
upon him.
"What a d--d shame!" exclaimed Cecil, "for a man with an entailed
estate to make no provision for his children. It's positively
monstrous!"
"Horrible, indeed!"
"Why, what is to become of them at his death?"
"They will be penniless," gravely replied the captain, as he sent the
red ball whizzing into the pocket.
"I wonder he is not ashamed to look them in the face," said Cecil,
duly impressed with the enormity.
"He trusts, I suppose, to their marrying rich men," carelessly added
the captain. "(Game! I win everything!)"
Cecil declined to play any longer. He went up into his own room, and
locked himself in, there to review his situation, the aspect of which
the recent intelligence had wonderfully altered.
Captain Heath shrugged his shoulders, quietly lighted a cigar, and
strolled out, well satisfied with the result of his experiment.
Then he met Blanche, who came up to him, holding out her hand, and
asking forgiveness.
"I was very naughty," she said, "but you have spoiled me so, that you
must not be astonished if I do not behave myself to you as to my best
friend. But the truth is, I was angry with you, and now I am angry
with myself, Am I forgiven?'
He only pressed her hand, and looked the answer. She put her arm
within his, and walked with him to the river, where they got into the
boat, and he rowed her gently down. She prattled to him in her
prettiest style all the way, for she was quite happy at having "made
it up with her darling Captain Heath."
It should be observed that, although he was no more than five and
thirty, yet, to the girls, he was always an elderly man, they having
known him from childhood. They were extremely fond of him, as he was
of them; but they laughed outright at one of their companions, asking
Rose if there was anything like flirtation between them.
"Flirtation!" exclaimed Rose. "Why, he is bald!"
The hair, indeed, was somewhat worn away above the forehead; but this
was from the friction of his hussar cap, not from age.
"No, no, my dear," continued Rose, "I make no havoc with the
highly-respectable-but-eminently-unfitted-for-flirtation race of
papas and grandpapas. My Cupid is in no need of a _toupet_; and if I
am to be shot, it shall not be with a gouty arrow. Captain Heath is
handsome--or has been--and though his moustachios are as dark and
silky as a guardsman's need be, yet he has one _leetle_ defect--his
age makes him respectable!"
In consequence of this notion, they neither thought of falling in
love with him themselves, nor of the probability of his falling in
love with them. They were, therefore, as unrestrained with him as
with a brother or an uncle. Blanche was his especial favourite and
constant companion. He knew well that she regarded him as too old to
be loved, but trusted that her eyes would be opened to the fact, that
there was really no great disparity between them.
"I have been playing billiards with Mr. Chamberlayne this morning,"
said the captain, as he rested on his oars, and allowed the stream to
float them quietly down.
"You have? Then I hope your opinion is changed."
"So far from it, I prophesy that his attentions to you--which have
been marked of late--will visibly decrease, until they relapse into
mere insignificance. And all because I casually remarked that your
father's estate, being entailed, and he being in debt, you and your
sisters were portionless."
"And you suppose him capable of--oh! this is too bad. It is
ungenerous."
"My dear Blanche, I may be wrong, but I fear I am not; let me not,
however, be condemned, till the event condemns me. Watch him!"
"You shall own you have calumniated him; the event shall prove it,"
she said with great warmth.
A dark shade passed across his brow, and he rowed rapidly on. Not
another word passed between them.