MARRIED OR SINGLE?
NEW NOVELS AT ALL LIBRARIES.
=HEART OF OAK: A Three-Stranded Yarn.= By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 3 vols.
=THE PROFESSOR’S EXPERIMENT.= By Mrs. HUNGERFORD. 3 vols.
=THE WOMAN IN THE DARK.= By F. W. ROBINSON. 2 vols.
=THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER.= By L. T. MEADE. 3 vols.
=SONS OF BELIAL.= By WILLIAM WESTALL. 2 vols.
=LILITH.= By GEORGE MACDONALD. 1 vol.
=LADY KILPATRICK.= By ROBERT BUCHANAN. 1 vol.
=CLARENCE.= By BRET HARTE. 1 vol.
=THE IMPRESSIONS OF AUREOLE.= A Diary of To-Day. 1 vol.
=DAGONET ABROAD.= By GEORGE R. SIMS. 1 vol.
=THE KING IN YELLOW.= By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. 1 vol.
=IN THE QUARTER.= By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. 1 vol.
LONDON: CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY.
MARRIED OR SINGLE?
BY
B. M. CROKER
AUTHOR OF
“DIANA BARRINGTON,” “A FAMILY LIKENESS,” ETC.
[Illustration]
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOL. II.
LONDON
CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1895
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
CHAPTER PAGE
XIV. A SOCIAL GODMOTHER 1
XV. MR. JESSOP DOES HIS DUTY 10
XVI. TWO VISITS AND A LETTER 40
XVII. GONE TO IRELAND 67
XVIII. WANTED--A REASON 82
XIX. A DISAGREEABLE INTERVIEW 102
XX. NOT “A HAPPY COUPLE” 115
XXI. AN INTERRUPTION 132
XXII. MR. WYNNE’S VISITOR 148
XXIII. A BOLD STEP 172
XXIV. AN UNEXPECTED HONOUR 185
XXV. PLAIN SPEAKING 196
XXVI. MR. WYNNE MAKES A STATEMENT 219
XXVII. A PROMISE POSTPONED 227
XXVIII. A PORTIÈRE WHICH INTERVENED 241
MARRIED OR SINGLE?
CHAPTER XIV.
A SOCIAL GODMOTHER.
The next day Lord Tony’s only sister, Lady Rachel Jenkins, arrived to
call--but not for the first time--upon Miss West. She was an extremely
vivacious and agreeable little woman, with dark eyes and flashing
teeth. She took Madeline out with her in her own brougham, and--oh,
great favour!--introduced her to her pet dressmaker. This august
person viewed Miss West’s stone-coloured costume with an air of amused
contempt; it was not good style; the cut of the skirt was quite “out,”
and she finally wound up by uttering the awful words, “Ready made.” It
was not what Madeline liked, or even thought she would like, but what
Lady Rachel suggested and Madame Coralie approved, that was selected.
“Your father, my dear,” patting the girl’s hand confidentially, “met me
on the stairs, and we had a few words together. I’m going to show you
what we do in London, and what we wear, and whom we know; and what we
don’t wear, and whom we don’t know, my little country mouse!”
So the country mouse was endowed with half a dozen fine dresses chosen
entirely by Lady Rachel--dresses for morning, afternoon, and evening.
“I only order six, my dear,” said her chaperon cheerily, “as the season
is getting over, and these will carry you on till August, if you have
a good maid. Madame Coralie, we can only give you five days,” rising as
she spoke.
But Madame Coralie threw up eyes and hands and gesticulated, and
volubly declared that it was _absolument impossible_! She had so many
gowns for Ascot and the royal garden party. Nevertheless, Lady Rachel
was imperious, and carried her point.
“The opera mantle is to be lined with pink brocade, and you will line
the cloth skirt with shot sulphur-coloured silk; and that body I chose
is to be almost drowned in chiffon and silver.”
She was to be female bear-leader to this young heiress, and was
resolved that her appearance should not disgrace her, and that “the old
squatter,” as she called him, should be taken at his word, and made to
pay and look pleasant.
The succeeding visit was to a milliner’s; the next to a shoe shop, when
the same scene was rehearsed. Madeline looked on and said nothing,
but made an angry mental note that she would never again go out
shopping with this imperious little lady. Why, even the poorest had
the privilege of choosing their own clothes! Why should this little
black-browed woman, barely up to her shoulder, tyrannize over her thus?
Simply because, my dear, unsophisticated Madeline, she has promised
to bring you out--to be your social godmother, to introduce you to
society, such as your father loveth, and to be friendly. Besides all
this, she has already decided in her own mind that “you will do very
well,” and are not nearly as rustic as she expected; and she has made
up her mind--precisely as she did about your satin dinner-dress--that
you are to marry her brother. Oh, happy prospect!
Lady Rachel was Lord Anthony’s only sister--a woman of five and thirty,
who, thirteen years previously, had married a rich _parvenu_--plain,
homely, much older than herself--for his money. She had no fortune
as Lady Rachel Foster, and she was not particularly pretty; so she
made the best available use of her title, and changed it for twenty
thousand a year and the name of Jenkins. Mr. Jenkins liked being
announced as “Lady Rachel, and Mr. Jenkins;” to be asked in a loud
voice, in public places, “How is your wife--Lady Rachel?” For her part,
she liked her fine house, servants, carriages, and jewels; and both
were, to a certain extent, satisfied with their bargain. Perhaps of
late years there had been a certain amount of disappointment. Lady
Rachel went more and more into society, and drifted widely apart from
Mr. Jenkins and his city friends. Mr. Jenkins was not considered an
acquisition in her circles, which were a little rapid. He was given to
understand--by deeds, not words--that he was rather a bore, and that he
must not always be expecting to be tied to the tail of his brilliant,
fashionable, frivolous little wife--and then, Mr. Jenkins was jealous!
It was quite time that Anthony was married, thought his sister. He
was not prepossessing in appearance. He was well known in society,
and especially in her own set, as a fellow with an empty head, empty
pockets, and a roving nature. He was not popular. She was aware that
he had been rejected by heiress after heiress. He would not be modest
and content with a plain girl, or an elderly widow, or even a faded
spinster on the shady side of forty! No; Lord Anthony Foster must have
beauty and money to boot, and there was no bidding for his coronet in
the quarters these came from. Prudent mammas had set a mark against his
name, and where his attentions would have been welcomed, he turned up
his nose, and talked in a high moral manner about the sin of marrying
one’s grandmother. His affectionate sister had vainly suggested one or
two ladies that she had thought suitable, but until now Lord Tony had
been too _difficile_, and her pains had gone for nothing!
But now, oh, joy at last, he had found a girl almost, as one might say,
to order--young, accomplished, ladylike, very pretty, and very rich.
Lady Rachel already considered Madeline her sister-in-law, and had
already selected her own gown for the wedding, so far ahead do some
active, imaginative natures throw their mental life. There was nothing
to wait for. Tony was willing--the old squatter was willing--and the
girl--well, she was willing, of course.
Madame Coralie’s dresses came home punctually, and were all that
the most fastidious could desire, in fit, style, colour, and cut.
Madeline spent the whole afternoon, in the retirement of her own room,
slowly trying on all six, one after the other, with ever-increasing
approbation. The climax was an oyster-white satin, with a turquoise
velvet and silver bodice--a dream of a dress, to quote the enraptured
Josephine.
Madeline had an æsthetic appreciation of herself as she stood before a
glass and contemplated the slim figure, white rounded arms, the rich
glistening skirt, the exquisitely moulded bodice. Could this apparition
be the same young woman who had humbled herself before Mrs. Kane, and
carried up her own coals? What a difference dress made--in self-respect
and self-importance! Dress, as she now realized it, was a powerful
engine in cultivating one’s own self-esteem. Yes, a silk-lined skirt
could impart a surprising amount of confidence! She glanced over one
shoulder, then over the other, then looked full at her reflection, and
said to herself, with a smile, “I do love pretty clothes!”