Diamonds Are Diamonds.
Kate and Alice, as they drew near to their journey's end, were both
a little flurried, and I cannot but own that there was cause for
nervousness. Kate Vavasor was to meet Mr. Grey for the first time. Mr.
Grey was now staying at Matching and was to remain there until a week
of his marriage. He was then to return to Cambridgeshire for a day
or two, and after that was to become a guest at the rector's house
at Matching the evening before the ceremony. "Why not let him come
here at once?" Lady Glencora had said to her husband. "It is such
nonsense, you know." But Mr. Palliser would not hear of it. Mr.
Palliser, though a Radical in public life, would not for worlds
transgress the social laws of his ancestors; and so the matter was
settled. Kate on this very day of her arrival at Matching would thus
see Mr. Grey for the first time, and she could not but feel that she
had been the means of doing Mr. Grey much injury. She had moreover
something,--not much indeed, but still something,--of that feeling
which made the Pallisers terrible to the imagination, because of
their rank and wealth. She was a little afraid of the Pallisers, but
of Mr. Grey she was very much afraid. And Alice also was not at her
ease. She would fain have prevented so very quick a marriage had she
not felt that now,--after all the trouble that she had caused,--there
was nothing left for her but to do as others wished. When a day
had been named she had hardly dared to demur, and had allowed Lady
Glencora to settle everything as she had wished. But it was not
only the suddenness of her marriage which dismayed her. Its nature
and attributes were terrible to her. Both Lady Midlothian and the
Marchioness of Auld Reekie were coming. When this was told to her by
letter she had no means of escape. "Lady Macleod is right in nearly
all that she says," Lady Glencora had written to her. "At any rate,
you needn't be such a fool as to run away from your cousins, simply
because they have handles to their names. You must take the thing
as it comes." Lady Glencora, moreover, had settled for her the list
of bridesmaids. Alice had made a petition that she might be allowed
to go through the ceremony with only one,--with none but Kate to
back her. But she ought to have known that when she consented to be
married at Matching,--and indeed she had had very little power of
resisting that proposition,--all such questions would be decided for
her. Two daughters therefore of Lady Midlothian were to act, Lady
Jane and Lady Mary, and the one daughter of the Marchioness, who was
also a Lady Jane, and there were to be two Miss Howards down from
London,--girls who were known both to Alice and to Lady Glencora,
and who were in some distant way connected with them both. A great
attempt was made to induce the two Miss Pallisers to join the bevy,
but they had frankly pleaded their age. "No woman should stand up as
a bridesmaid," said the strong-minded Sophy, "who doesn't mean to get
married if she can. Now I don't mean to get married, and I won't put
myself among the young people." Lady Glencora was therefore obliged
to submit to do the work with only six. But she swore that they
should be very smart. She was to give all the dresses, and Mr.
Palliser was to give a brooch and an armlet to each. "She is the only
person in the world I want to pet, except yourself," Lady Glencora
had said to her husband, and he had answered by giving her _carte
blanche_ as regards expense.
[Illustration: Alice and her bridesmaids.]
All this was very terrible to Kate, who had not much feminine taste
for finery. Of the dress she had heard,--of the dress which was
waiting at Matching to be made up after her arrival,--though as yet
she knew nothing of the trinkets. There are many girls who could
submit themselves at a moment to the kindness of such a woman as Lady
Glencora. Perhaps most girls would do so, for of all such women in
the world, Lady Glencora was the least inclined to patronize or to
be condescending in her kindnesses. But Kate Vavasor was one to whom
such submission would not come easily.
"I wish I was out of this boat," she said to Alice in the train.
"So that I might be shipwrecked alone!"
"No; there can be no shipwreck to you. When the day of action comes
you will be taken away, up to heaven, upon the clouds. But what are
they to do with me?"
"You'll find that Glencora will not desert you. You can't conceive
what taste she has."
"I'd sooner be bridesmaid to Charlie Fairstairs. I would indeed.
My place in the world is not among Cabinet Ministers and old
countesses."
"Nor mine."
"Yes; it seems that yours is to be there. They are your cousins, and
you have made at any rate one great friend among them,--one who is to
be the biggest of them all."
"And you are going to throw me over, Kate?"
"To tell the truth, Alice, I sometimes think you had better throw me
over. I know it would be sad,--sad for both, but perhaps it would be
better. I have done you much harm and no good; and now where I am
going I shall disgrace you." She talked even of getting out at some
station and returning, and would have done so had not Alice made
it impossible. As it was, the evening found her and Alice together
entering the park-gate at Matching, in Lady Glencora's carriage.
Lady Glencora had sent a note to the station. "She could not come
herself," she said, "because Mr. Palliser was a little fussy. You'll
understand, dear, but don't say a word." Alice didn't say a word,
having been very anxious not to lower Mr. Palliser in her cousin's
respect.
None of the Lady Janes and Lady Marys were at Matching when they
arrived. Indeed, there was no guest there but Mr. Grey, for which Kate
felt herself to be extremely grateful. Mr. Grey came into the hall,
standing behind Mr. Palliser, who stood behind his wife. Alice passed
by them both, and was at once in her lover's arms. "Then I must
introduce myself," said Lady Glencora to Kate, "and my husband also."
This she did, and no woman in England could have excelled her in
the manner of doing it. "I have heard so much about you," said she,
still keeping Kate's hand, "and I know how good you've been;--and
how wicked you have been," she added in a whisper. Then Mr. Grey was
brought up to her, and they were introduced. It was not till some
days had passed over them that she felt herself at all at her ease
with Mr. Grey, and I doubt whether she ever reached that point with Mr.
Palliser; but Lady Glencora she knew, and liked, and almost loved,
from the first moment of their meeting.
"Have you heard the news?" said Lady Glencora to Alice, the first
minute that they were alone. Alice, of course, had not heard the
news. "Mr. Bott is going to marry Mrs. Marsham. There is such a row
about it. Plantagenet is nearly mad. I never knew him so disgusted in
my life. Of course I don't dare to tell him so, but I am so heartily
rejoiced. You know how I love them both, and I could not possibly
wish any better reward for either." Alice, who had personally known
more of Mr. Bott than of Mrs. Marsham, said that she couldn't but be
sorry for the lady. "She's old enough to be his mother," said Lady
Glencora, "otherwise I really don't know any people better suited
to each other. The best is, that Mr. Bott is doing it to regain his
footing with Mr. Palliser! I am sure of that;--and Plantagenet will
never speak to him again. But, Alice, there is other news."
"What other news?"
"It is hardly news yet, and of course I am very wicked to tell you.
But I feel sure Mr. Grey knows all about it, and if I didn't tell, he
would."
"He hasn't told me anything yet."
"He hasn't had time; and when he does, you mustn't pretend to know.
I believe Mr. Palliser will certainly be Chancellor of the Exchequer
before next month, and, if so, he'll never come in for Silverbridge
again."
"But he'll be in Parliament; will he not?"
"Oh, yes; he'll be in Parliament. I don't understand all about it.
There is a man going out for the county,--for Barsetshire,--some man
whom the Duke used to favour, and he wants Plantagenet to come in for
that. I can't understand what difference it makes."
"But he will be in the Cabinet?"
"Oh, yes. But who do you suppose is to be the new Member for
Silverbridge?"
"I can't guess," said Alice. Though, of course, she did guess.
"Mind, I don't know it. He has never told me. But he told me that
he had been with the Duke, and asked the Duke to let Jeffrey have
the seat. The Duke became as black as thunder, and said that Jeffrey
had no fortune. In short, he wouldn't hear of it. Poor Jeffrey!
we must try to do something for him, but I really don't know how.
Then the Duke said, that Plantagenet should put in for Silverbridge
some friend who would support himself; and I fancy,--mind it's only
fancy,--but I fancy that Plantagenet mentioned to his Grace--one Mr.
Grey."
"Oh, Glencora!"
"They've been talking together till sometimes I think Mr. Grey is
worse than Plantagenet. When Mr. Grey began to say something the other
night in the drawing-room about sugar, I knew it was all up with you.
He'll be a financial Secretary; you see if he isn't; or a lord of
something, or an under-somebody of State; and then some day he'll
go mad, either because he does or because he doesn't get into the
Cabinet." Lady Glencora, as she said all this, knew well that the
news she was giving would please her cousin better than any other
tidings that could be told.
By degrees the guests came. The two Miss Howards were the first, and
they expressed themselves as delighted with Lady Glencora's taste
and with Mr. Palliser's munificence,--for at that time the brooches
and armlets had been produced. Kate had said very little about
these matters, but the Miss Howards were loud in their thanks. But
they were good-humoured, merry girls, and the house was pleasanter
after their arrival than it had been before. Then came the dreaded
personage,--the guest,--Lady Midlothian! On the subject of Lady
Midlothian Kate had really become curious. She had a real desire
to see the face and gait of the woman, and to hear her voice. Lady
Midlothian came, and with her came Lady Jane and Lady Mary. I am by
no means sure that Lady Jane and Lady Mary were not nearly as old as
the two Miss Pallisers; but they were not probably so fully resolved
as to the condition of their future modes of living as were those two
ladies, and if so, they were not wrong to shine as bridesmaids. With
them Alice had made some slight acquaintance during the last spring
in London, and as they were now to attend upon her as the bride they
were sufficiently gracious. To Kate, too, they were civil enough, and
things, in public, went on very pleasantly at Matching.
A scene there was, of course, between Alice and Lady Midlothian;--a
scene in private. "You must go through it," Lady Glencora had said,
with jocose mournfulness; "and why should you not let her jump upon
you a little? It can't hurt you now."
"But I don't like people to jump upon me," Alice said.
"And why are you to have everything just as you like it? You are so
unreasonable. Think how I've been jumped on! Think what I have borne
from them! If you knew the things she used to say to me, you would
not be such a coward. I was sent down to her for a week, and had no
power of helping myself. And the Marchioness used to be sent for to
look at me, for she never talks. She used to look at me, and groan,
and hold up her hands till I hated her the worst of the two. Think
what they did to me, and yet they are my dear friends now. Why should
you escape altogether?"
Alice could not escape altogether, and therefore was closeted with
Lady Midlothian for the best part of an hour. "Did Lady Macleod read
to you what I wrote?" the Countess asked.
"Yes,--that is, she gave me the letter to read."
"And I hope you understand me, Alice?"
"Oh, yes, I suppose so."
"You suppose so, my dear! If you only suppose so I shall not
be contented. I want you to appreciate my feelings towards you
thoroughly. I want you to know that I am most anxious as to your
future life, and that I am thoroughly satisfied with the step you are
now taking." The Countess paused, but Alice said nothing. Her tongue
was itching to tell the old woman that she cared nothing for this
expression of satisfaction; but she was aware that she had done much
that was deserving of punishment, and resolved to take this as part
of her penance. She was being jumped upon, and it was unpleasant;
but, after all that had happened, it was only fitting that she should
undergo much unpleasantness. "Thoroughly satisfied," continued the
Countess; "and now, I only wish to refer, in the slightest manner
possible, to what took place between us when we were both of us under
this roof last winter."
"Why refer to it at all, Lady Midlothian?"
"Because I think it may do good, and because I cannot make you
understand that I have thoroughly forgiven everything, unless I tell
you that I have forgiven that also. On that occasion I had come all
the way from Scotland on purpose to say a few words to you."
"I am so sorry that you should have had the trouble."
"I do not regret it, Alice. I never do regret doing anything which
I believe to have been my duty. There is no knowing how far what I
said then may have operated for good." Alice thought that she knew
very well, but she said nothing. "I must confess that what I then
understood to be your obstinacy,--and I must say also, if I tell the
truth, your indifference to--to--to all prudential considerations
whatever, not to talk of appearances and decorum, and I might say,
anything like a high line of duty or moral conduct,--shocked me
very much. It did, indeed, my dear. Taking it altogether, I don't
know that I was ever more shocked in my life. The thing was so
inscrutable!" Here Lady Midlothian held up one hand in a manner that
was truly imposing; "so inscrutable! But that is all over now. What
was personally offensive to myself I could easily forgive, and I do
forgive it. I shall never think of it any more." Here Lady Midlothian
put up both her hands gently, as though wafting the injury away into
the air. "But what I wish specially to say to you is this; your own
conduct is forgiven also!" Here she paused again, and Alice winced.
Who was this dreadful old Countess;--what was the Countess to her,
that she should be thus tormented with the old woman's forgiveness?
John Grey had forgiven her, and of external forgiveness that was
enough. She had not forgiven herself,--would never forgive herself
altogether; and the pardon of no old woman in England could assist
her in doing so. She had sinned, but she had not sinned against Lady
Midlothian. "Let her jump upon you, and have done with it," Lady
Glencora had said. She had resolved that it should be so, but it was
very hard to keep her resolution.
"The Marchioness and I have talked it over," continued Lady
Midlothian, "and she has asked me to speak for both her and myself."
There is comfort at any rate in that, thought Alice, who had never
yet seen the Marchioness. "We have resolved that all those little
mistakes should be as though they had never been committed. We shall
both be most happy to receive you and your husband, who is, I must
say, one of the most gentlemanlike looking men I ever saw. It seems
that he and Mr. Palliser are on most friendly,--I may say, most
confidential terms, and that must be quite a pleasure to you."
"It's a pleasure to him, which is more to the purpose," said Alice.
"Exactly so. And now, my dear, everything is forgiven and shall be
forgotten. Come and give me a kiss, and let me wish you joy." Alice
did as she was bidden, and accepted the kiss and the congratulations,
and a little box of jewellery which Lady Midlothian produced from out
of her pocket. "The diamonds are from the Marchioness, my dear, whose
means, as you doubtless are aware, greatly exceed my own. The garnets
are from me. I hope they may both be worn long and happily."
I hardly know which was the worst, the lecture, the kiss, or the
present. The latter she would have declined, had it been possible;
but it was not possible. When she had agreed to be married at
Matching she had not calculated the amount of punishment which would
thereby be inflicted on her. But I think that, though she bore it
impatiently, she was aware that she had deserved it. Although she
fretted herself greatly under the infliction of Lady Midlothian, she
acknowledged to herself, even at the time, that she deserved all
the lashes she received. She had made a fool of herself in her vain
attempt to be greater and grander than other girls, and it was only
fair that her folly should be in some sort punished before it was
fully pardoned. John Grey punished it after one fashion; by declining
to allude to it, or to think of it, or to take any account of it. And
now Lady Midlothian had punished it after another fashion, and Alice
went out of the Countess's presence with sundry inward exclamations
of "mea culpa," and with many unseen beatings of the breast.
Two days before the ceremony came the Marchioness and her august
daughter. Her Lady Jane was much more august than the other Lady
Jane;--very much more august indeed. She had very long flaxen hair,
and very light blue eyes, which she did not move frequently, and she
spoke very little,--one may almost say not at all, and she never
seemed to do anything. But she was very august, and was, as all the
world knew, engaged to marry the Duke of Dumfriesshire, who, though
twice her own age, was as yet childless, as soon as he should have
completed his mourning for his first wife. Kate told her cousin that
she did not at all know how she should ever stand up as one in a
group with so august a person as this Lady Jane, and Alice herself
felt that such an attendant would quite obliterate her. But Lady Jane
and her mother were both harmless. The Marchioness never spoke to
Kate and hardly spoke to Alice, and the Marchioness's Lady Jane was
quite as silent as her mother.
On the morning of this day,--the day on which these very august
people came,--a telegram arrived at the Priory calling for Mr.
Palliser's immediate presence in London. He came to Alice full of
regret, and behaved himself very nicely. Alice now regarded him quite
as a friend. "Of course I understand," she said, "and I know that the
business which takes you up to London pleases you." "Well; yes;--it
does please me. I am glad,--I don't mind saying so to you. But it
does not please me to think that I shall be away at your marriage.
Pray make your father understand that it was absolutely unavoidable.
But I shall see him, of course, when I come back. And I shall see you
too before very long."
"Shall you?"
"Oh yes."
"And why so?"
"Because Mr. Grey must be at Silverbridge for his election.--But
perhaps I ought not tell you his secrets." Then he took her into the
breakfast-parlour and showed her his present. It was a service of
Sèvres china,--very precious and beautiful. "I got you these things
because Grey likes china."
"So do I like china," said she, with her face brighter than he had
ever yet seen it.
"I thought you would like them best," said he. Alice looking up at
him with her eyes full of tears told him that she did like them best;
and then, as he wished her all happiness, and as he was stooping over
her to kiss her, Lady Glencora came in.
"I beg pardon," said she, "I was just one minute too soon; was I
not?"
"She would have them sent here and unpacked," said Mr. Palliser,
"though I told her it was foolish."
"Of course I would," said Lady Glencora. "Everything shall be
unpacked and shown. It's easy to get somebody to pack them again."
Much of the wedding tribute had already been deposited with the
china, and among other things there were the jewels that Lady
Midlothian had brought.
"Upon my word, her ladyship's diamonds are not to be sneezed at,"
said Lady Glencora.
"I don't care for diamonds," said Alice.
Then Lady Glencora took up the Countess's trinkets, and shook her
head and turned up her nose. There was a wonderfully comic expression
on her face as she did so.
"To me they are just as good as the others," said Alice.
"To me they are not, then," said Lady Glencora. "Diamonds are
diamonds, and garnets are garnets; and I am not so romantic but what
I know the difference."
On the evening before the marriage Alice and Lady Glencora walked for
the last time through the Priory ruins. It was now September, and the
evenings were still long, so that the ladies could get out upon the
lawn after dinner. Whether Lady Glencora would have been allowed to
walk through the ruins so late as half-past eight in the evening if
her husband had been there may be doubtful, but her husband was away
and she took this advantage of his absence.
"Do you remember that night we were here?" said Lady Glencora.
"When shall I forget it; or how is it possible that such a night
should ever be forgotten?"
"No; I shall never forget it. Oh dear, what wonderful things have
happened since that! Do you ever think of Jeffrey?"
"Yes;--of course I think of him. I did like him so much. I hope I
shall see him some day."
"And he liked you too, young woman; and, what was more, young woman,
I thought at one time that, perhaps, you were going to like him in
earnest."
"Not in that way, certainly."
"You've done much better, of course; especially as poor Jeffrey's
chance of promotion doesn't look so good now. If I have a boy, I
wonder whether he'll hate me?"
"Why should he hate you?"
"I can't help it, you know, if he does. Only think what it is to
Plantagenet. Have you seen the difference it makes in him already?"
"Of course it makes a difference;--the greatest difference in the
world."
"And think what it will be to me, Alice. I used to lie in bed and
wish myself dead, and make up my mind to drown myself,--if I could
only dare. I shan't think any more of that poor fellow now." Then she
told Alice what had been done for Burgo; how his uncle had paid his
bills once again, and had agreed to give him a small income. "Poor
fellow!" said Lady Glencora, "it won't do more than buy him gloves,
you know."
The marriage was magnificent, greatly to the dismay of Alice and
to the discomfort of Mr. Vavasor, who came down on the eve of the
ceremony,--arriving while his daughter and Lady Glencora were in
the ruins. Mr. Grey seemed to take it all very easily, and, as Lady
Glencora said, played his part exactly as though he were in the habit
of being married, at any rate, once a year. "Nothing on earth will
ever put him out, so you need not try, my dear," she said, as Alice
stood with her a moment alone in the dressing-room up-stairs before
her departure.
"I know that," said Alice, "and therefore I shall never try."
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