"I WAS the means of bringing her to Steynes-Cote at this time, and she
has been real good to the mistress, but I am beginning to misdoubt me
about the outcome of her visit."
Thus mused Jean Graham as she went to and fro about her household
duties, and the subject of her cogitations was Mrs. Prattely. Jean
was a close observer of character, but not an unkindly one. Her
judgments were usually charitable, or at least fair. She did not
watch her neighbours in order to find fault with the object of laying
up materials for future gossip. It was simply a part of her shrewd
nature to go about with her eyes open. She was, mentally as well as
physically, clear-sighted.
We know that Mrs. Prattely's presence at Steynes-Cote was due to Jean's
suggestion, and yet the faithful woman was far from satisfied with
the influence which that lady exercised over the mind of her young
mistress. Jean had long before reckoned up Mrs. Prattely.
"She has a wealth o' kindness in her heart, but she's just a wee bit
wanting in common-sense, poor body! What a pity it is that heads and
hearts don't always match. A soft heart and a strong, wise head go
finely together."
Subsequently, Jean was inclined to modify this last sentence. It was
after the home-coming of Dr. Crawford and his bride, when even her
much-loved "Master Andrew" came in for a touch of censure.
"Nobody can deny that he has a tender heart, and a wise head along with
it, and yet he just spoils the mistress, and would have her tread on
rose leaves all the while. I feel like sticking in a thorn here and
there, just to wake her up for the good o' both of them. But, eh dear!
the wisest and strongest of the men are like wax in the hands of a
young lass that has crept into their hearts and taken up her dwelling
there. They lose their natural sight, and the bonnie face of sweetheart
or wife comes between them and their wise resolutions. It's just human
nature. Why should I look for Master Andrew to be wiser than King
Solomon was? I wonder now, if I were to leave the young mistress, would
she rouse herself and put a hand to the housekeeping?"
It was not the first time she had asked herself this question, but Jean
soon dismissed the idea from her mind. She loved the doctor and his
wife too well to allow of her carrying it out, and she was not inclined
to leave the management of Steynes-Cote in Mrs. Prattely's hands.
If the truth must be told, Jean had become jealous of the visitor. Mrs.
Prattely had been all in all to her mistress during Dr. Crawford's
absence, and the faithful servant felt herself left out in the cold. Up
to that time, Ida had been on friendly terms with all her neighbours,
but had made no confidential friend of any one particular. But with her
husband away, the quiet doubly enforced by his father's death, and her
own circumstances, the girl-wife was thrown into constant companionship
with Mrs. Prattely.
It was perfectly natural that Ida should talk a great deal to Mrs.
Prattely. Shelverton topics were soon exhausted, and Ida, having heard
all the daily news of the little world outside, contributed her share
to the conversation by speaking of her own early life and surroundings.
We know how Mrs. Prattely expressed herself when Ida first came to
Steynes-Cote, and unfortunately she thought fit to repeat her opinions
to the subject of them.
"I am sure you must have felt that by coming to Shelverton you were
burying yourself alive," said Mrs. Prattely. "You had been accustomed
to such different society and far more gaiety than we have in this
quiet place."
The remark amused Ida, and she replied, "I never cared for much
gaiety. Even in India I lived very quietly. Before I joined my
brother's family there, my life was that of a schoolgirl; I knew
nothing of the world outside. Then, when we returned to England, I
had been for a year engaged to be married, so where would have been
the use of my plunging into the whirl of London society when I was
to leave it almost immediately? My sister-in-law wished my marriage
to be put off for a year, so that I might have a season in town,
but the prospect had little attraction for me. Beatrice could not
understand my indifference, for she delights in gaiety, and is still
very much admired, though she has been married twelve years. She would
consider living at Shelverton as being buried alive, but we think very
differently about many things."
"Well," said Mrs. Prattely, "you do surprise me! Surely there are
very few girls, tempted as you were, who would have come to a similar
decision. I find I have wasted my pity upon you."
"Why did you pity me?" asked Ida, with a look of genuine astonishment.
"It was when you came to Steynes-Cote a bride. I said to myself, 'Poor
thing! That young creature's life will be a terribly lonely one. The
doctor will be constantly out, and, unless some of her own people come
to stay with her, she will miss more and more what she has left behind.
Dr. Crawford can never make up to her for what she has sacrificed in
order to become his wife."
"I did not sacrifice anything," said Ida, still loyal to her husband,
and anxious that others should understand his disinterested conduct
towards herself. "I considered myself a fortunate girl in having
gained the affection of so good a man as Andrew Crawford. You cannot
imagine how much his love was to me, Mrs. Prattely. My life in India
was my season of loneliness and comparative neglect, and it was to Dr.
Crawford I owed all of brightness that was mingled with it."
Ida's face glowed again as she looked back upon that time; and with
moistened eyes and in the fulness of her heart she told Mrs. Prattely
the story of the doctor's wooing, and the change it wrought for her.
"My dear," replied her listener, "you must not think that I under-value
Dr. Crawford. I consider him one of the excellent of the earth,
everything that is estimable, and a very handsome man into the
bargain. But I am not in the least surprised that, in spite of all his
excellences, Lady Carnelly should have opposed your marrying so young,
and without having given yourself a chance of something better. She,
you say, is the daughter of a nobleman, as well as the wife of one. It
was perfectly natural for her to feel that rank has its claims. And, my
dear Mrs. Crawford, with your face,—I do not wish to flatter you,—and
the advantage that rank gives, you might have married anybody. I am not
surprised at the view Lady Carnelly took of your engagement. I only
wonder that your brother ever consented to it. I fearlessly repeat,
that, taking everything into consideration, it was much more natural to
expect that you would marry a duke than a doctor. This, however, must
be between ourselves. What would Dr. Crawford say if he heard me?"
"Perhaps he would agree with you," replied Ida, with a smile and
a blush, as she caught sight of her beautiful face in the mirror
opposite. "Andrew is always rather disposed to overestimate all that
belongs to his wife. I do not think a duke would have valued me half
so much as he does, and, for myself, I only wish I were more worthy of
him. He is so good."
Ida meant all that she said, and felt inclined to laugh at the opinions
expressed by her visitor. The words, however, were not forgotten; they
lay as seeds in Ida's memory, and in after days brought forth thorns on
the path of the girl-wife.
During the colonel's brief visit to Steynes-Cote, Mrs. Prattely was in
her glory. For a title-worshipper like herself, it was happiness indeed
to be the one inhabitant of Shelverton who was brought into familiar
contact with Lord Carnelly. Her devotion to Mrs. Crawford had met with
its reward, and when she returned home, Mrs. Prattely felt entitled to
hold herself just a step above the other Park people, who had not been
equally privileged.
But before Mrs. Prattely left Steynes-Cote, its young mistress had
taken her into full confidence. She knew all about the treatment which
Ida received from her sister-in-law before her marriage, all about the
little fortune she was expecting even then from Lord Carnelly's hands,
and of her delight in the birthday presents which had already brought
with them an assurance of a better understanding for the future between
Beatrice and herself.
"I really feel quite rich, now all these matters are settled," said
Mrs. Crawford, with that winsome, girlish manner of hers. "I was a
little anxious about these few thousands of mine, because there is no
doubt that Lindsay's expenses have been very great since his return
from India. Beatrice will spend so much, no matter what my brother
says, and the having a title does not always mean being a rich man. I
daresay Lady Carnelly counts on the fortune which will be hers some
day. It is to come at the death of an aunt who might, if she chose,
give my sister-in-law a handsome allowance now, without ever missing
the money, but Beatrice and she are not on friendly terms. They are
too much alike in temper for that, so old Miss Pelham will never allow
a penny to pass into her niece's hands whilst she lives. She is very
miserly, too, and looks upon Beatrice as wickedly wasteful in her
expenditure, especially with so large a family to be provided for."
It seemed very strange to Mrs. Prattely to hear Ida talk of her few
thousands as her fortune; to hear, in addition, that she had been
doubtful whether Lord Carnelly would be able to pay it on account of
his wife's extravagance. And Mrs. Prattely's own fortune would have
equalled Ida's multiplied by ten. It amused her, and pleased her too,
when Mrs. Crawford began to reckon how much she should be able to spend
on her baby.
"I have never cared for costly dresses myself," she said, "but I
shall like to be just a little bit extravagant for my precious pet.
She is such a beauty, and will look lovelier than ever in some of the
pretty things I mean to buy for her. We cannot have the birthday and
christening party on which I reckoned so much, but my little treasure
shall make a brave show in her baby finery."
It is so natural for a young mother to think that she shows her love
for her infant by clothing it in the finest of embroidery and the
daintiest of lace, and to be willing to deny herself some coveted
article of dress that, as Ida said, "Baby may make a brave show." But
as often as not, the very finery which gratifies the maternal vanity
rather takes from than adds to the comfort of the child, for whom
nothing is thought too costly, except that which money cannot buy—the
self-devoting watchfulness of the mother herself.
Many a young mother, too, whose means are small, and who can spend but
little money on the purchase of dainty garments, bestows upon them
her own patient handiwork, which costs her infinitely more than the
emptying of a purse which will be replenished at a word from its owner.
Mrs. Crawford did not carry a full purse with her when she went on a
shopping expedition, accompanied by Mrs. Prattely. But she did bring
back with her a stock of very well-chosen little garments and a long,
unpaid bill, the sum total of which astonished her husband.
Ida showed him the pretty clothing before she produced the account, and
the doctor, seeing her innocent delight in her purchases, duly admired
them, whilst he cautioned her against sowing the seeds of vanity in the
infant mind of her first-born.
"As though she could know anything about finery for years to come!"
said Ida. "But I shall like my Doris to be as prettily dressed as any
child can be. I am glad you like my purchases, Andrew."
"I am afraid, darling, I am no great judge of the garments; but as to
baby herself, I do know that she has the dearest of little faces, and
that each day it reflects more clearly that of my precious girl-wife.
What is this, dear?" added the doctor, as he picked up an envelope
which had evidently dropped from the parcel.
"I suppose it will be the bill, Andrew. The shopman said he would
enclose it with the things."
"Is it paid?" asked the doctor.
"Of course not, dear, for I had very little money in my pocket. But I
wished it to be sent at once, as I know you do not like any accounts to
stand over, and I mean these things to be paid for out of my own money.
Not that I want it to be reckoned mine, Andrew; only, as Lindsay has
paid you, and there will be no expense about the party I reckoned on
having, I thought you would not mind my buying some very pretty things
for baby instead. You can open it," she added, seeing that the doctor
continued to hold the envelope in his hand in a mechanical fashion.
He obeyed, and glanced over the long list of purchases it contained
with a look of consternation, which, however, Ida did not see, as she
was too much occupied in refolding the articles themselves.
"Ida darling, did you reckon the total cost of all these pretty things
as you chose them, one by, one?" asked the doctor in a quiet tone.
"No, Andrew; I asked the price of each, and some of them were rather
expensive, but then they are so very good and handsome. And Mrs.
Prattely, who was with me, said that good lace and embroidery are
always the best worth buying. The first cost may be greater, but they
wash and wear so well that it is true economy to buy them." And Ida
looked quite triumphant at being able to quote Mrs. Prattely as her
authority.
The doctor said nothing, but pointed to the figures at the foot of the
bill. If these were correct, Ida's shopping expedition had cost her
husband fifty pounds.
"Oh, Andrew, there must be a mistake! I never thought they would come
to half that. I am afraid you are displeased, but I thought they would
last and look so pretty, and that you would not mind so much for once,
if they came out of my money."
"I can see how it happened that you were drawn into spending more than
you intended, Ida," said her husband. "I felt a little surprised at
this bill, because you have never been extravagant for yourself. I am
afraid, however, that you forgot how soon babies grow out of their
clothes, and that all your pretty purchases will be useless to Miss
Doris Crawford before many months have passed over her head. Then, if
she were to require a renewal of her wardrobe at a similar cost, I
should have to take up the cry of one of my patients, who lamented that
she found her baby a very expensive luxury."
The doctor had not the heart to distress Ida by using a graver tone,
though the sight of the bill had disturbed him a good deal, and she saw
that such was the case.
"Perhaps the shopkeeper would take back some of the things," said Ida.
"I could say I had made a mistake in taking so many of a similar size,
and that I would have some larger ones by-and-by."
"Never mind them, dear; you shall keep your purchases," replied the
doctor. "And the next time you go to make any, it will be better to fix
beforehand how much you will spend. This bill must be paid to-morrow."
And so it was; but the doctor looked rather ruefully at the small
balance left out of the year's interest paid him by Lord Carnelly. Half
of it had gone to pay for the costly, useless, so-called presents,
which lay glittering in their cases under lock and key. Fifty more must
go for baby finery almost as useless, the only satisfaction about this
last being that it delighted the young mother.
And yet Dr. Crawford did not tell his wife how the money had already
melted out of his grasp, or that he was doubtful whether any more would
come from the same quarter.
As a matter of course, Mrs. Prattely was one of the baby's sponsors,
Lord and Lady Carnelly being the other two, though they did not attend
her christening, but were represented by Dr. Crawford and Ida. And Mrs.
Prattely further manifested her interest in her god-daughter by costly
gifts of plate and still more dainty lace than that already purchased.
Also, by hunting up a nurse who was to take all trouble off the young
mother's hands, and who, as Jean Graham said, "took more waiting on
than the doctor, his wife, and baby put together."
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