NEW PLUMES.
'And ye sall walk in silk attire,
And siller hae to spare.'--Old Ballad.
The very best open fly and pair of horses, being the equipage most like
a private carriage possessed by the Royal Hotel, came to the door with
Mr. Egremont seated in it, at a few minutes after two o'clock, and
found Alice in her only black silk, with a rose in her bonnet, and a
tie to match on her neck, hastily procured as signs of her wifehood.
She had swallowed her tears, and Nuttie was not a crying person, but
was perfectly scarlet on her usually brown cheeks. Her father muttered
some civility about back seats, but it was plain that it was only in
words, and she never thought of anything but looking back, with her
last wave to her aunt and the two maids, one crying at the gate, the
other at the door.
'There,' said Mr. Egremont, as they drove away, 'that is over!'
'My dear aunt,' said his wife. 'Who can express her goodness to me?'
'Cela va sans dire,' was the reply. 'But these are connections that
happily Ursula is young enough to forget and leave behind.'
'I shall never forget!' began Nuttie, but she saw her father composing
himself in his corner without paying the slightest heed to what she was
saying, and she encountered a warning and alarmed glance from her
mother, so she was forced to content herself with uttering silent vows
of perpetual recollection as she passed each well-known object,--the
unfinished church, with Mr. Spyers at the door talking to old Bellman;
the Town Hall, whose concerts, lectures, and S. P. G. meetings had been
her chief gaiety and excitement; the School of Art, where Lady
Kirkaldy's appearance now seemed to her to have been like that of a
bird of omen; past the shops in the High Street, with a little
exultation at the thought of past desires which they had excited. Long
could she have rattled away, her hopes contradicting her regrets, and
her regrets qualifying her anticipations, but she saw that her mother
was nervous about every word and gesture, and fairly looked dismayed
when she exclaimed, 'Oh, mother, there's Etta Smith; how surprised she
will be!' bowing and smiling with all her might.
There was a look of bare toleration on Mr. Egremont's face, as if he
endured because it would soon be over, as Nuttie bowed several times,
and his wife, though less quick to catch people's eyes, sometimes also
made her recognition. When the streets were past and Nuttie had aimed
her last nods at the nursery parties out walking on the road, she
became aware that those cold, lack-lustre, and yet sharply critical
eyes of her father were scanning her all over.
'She has been educated?' he presently said to his wife.
'Oh yes,' was the eager answer. 'She is in the highest form at the
High School, and has to go up for the Senior Local Examination. Miss
Belper makes sure that she will get a first class.'
Mr. Egremont gave a little wave of the hand, as dismissing something
superfluous, and said, 'I hope she has some accomplishments.'
'She has done very fairly in French and German--'
'And Latin,' put in Ursula.
'And she has had several prizes at the School of Art.'
'And music? That's the only thing of any value in society,' he said
impatiently, and Mrs. Egremont said more timidly, 'She has learnt music
regularly.'
'But I don't care about it,' broke in Nuttie. 'I haven't mother's ear
nor her voice. I learnt the science in case I should have to teach,
and they make me practise. I don't mind classical music, but I can't
stand rubbish, and I think it is waste of time.'
Mr. Egremont looked fairly amused, as at the outspoken folly of an
enfant terrible, but he only said, either to his wife or to himself, 'A
little polish, and then she may be fairly presentable.'
'We have taken great pains with her,' answered the gentle mother,
evidently taking this as a great compliment, while the daughter was
tingling with indignation. She, bred up by mother, and aunt, and Mary
Nugent, to be barely presentable. Was not their society at
Micklethwayte equal in good manners to any, and superior, far superior,
in goodness and intelligence to these stupid fashionable people, who
undervalued all her real useful acquirements, and cared for nothing but
trumpery music.
The carriage entered the park, and Nuttie saw lake and woods from a
fresh point of view. The owners were both at home, and Nuttie found
herself walking behind her parents into a cheerful apartment, half
library, half morning-room. Mrs. Egremont was by far the most shy and
shrinking of the party, but it was an occasion that showed her
husband's complete tact and savoir favre. He knew perfectly well that
the Kirkaldys knew all about it, and he therefore took the initiative.
'You are surprised to see us,' he said, as he gave his hand, 'but we
could not leave the country without coming to thank Lady Kirkaldy for
her kindness in assisting in following up the clue to Mrs. Egremont's
residence.'
'I am very happy,' said Lady Kirkaldy, while all were being seated.
'I think it was here that my nephew Mark first met one whom, child as
he was, he could not but remember.'
'I don't think you met him here,' said Lady Kirkaldy to Mrs. Egremont;
'but he heard the name and was struck by it.'
'Dear Mark!' was the response. 'He was so kind.'
'He is a dear good boy,' chimed in my lady.
'Yes,' said her lord, 'an excellent good fellow with plenty of brains.'
'As he well knows,' said Mr. Egremont. 'Oh yes; I quite agree with all
you say of him! One ought to be thankful for the possession of a rare
specimen.'
It was in the tone in which Falstaff discussed that sober boy, Lord
John of Lancaster. Lord Kirkaldy asked if the visitors were going to
remain long in the neighbourhood.
'We are due in London to-night,' replied Mr. Egremont. 'We shall spend
a day or two there, and then go home. Alice,' he added, though his
wife had never heard him call her so before, 'Lady Kirkaldy knows your
inexperience. Perhaps she would be good enough to give you some
addresses that might be useful.'
'I shall be delighted,' said the lady, cordially looking at the
blushing Mrs. Egremont.
'Dressmaker, and all the rest of it,' said Mr. Egremont. 'You know
better than she does what she will require, and a little advice will be
invaluable. Above all, if you could tell her how to pick up a maid.'
Lady Kirkaldy proposed to take the mother and daughter up to her
dressing-room, where she kept her book of addresses to London
tradesmen; and Mr. Egremont only begged that they would remember the
4.40 train. Then Lord Kirkaldy was left to entertain him, while the
ladies went up the broad staircase to the pleasant room, which had a
mingled look of refinement and usefulness which struck Nuttie at once.
Lady Kirkaldy, as soon as the door was shut, took her visitor by the
hand, kissed her forehead, and said, 'You must let me tell you how glad
I am.'
The crystal veil at once spread over Alice's eyes.
'Oh, thank you. Lady Kirkaldy! I am _so_ happy, and yet I am so
afraid. Please tell me what we shall _do_ so that we may not vex him,
so high bred and fastidious as he is?'
'Be yourself! That's all, my dear,' said Lady Kirkaldy tenderly.
'Don't be afraid. You are quite incapable of doing anything that could
distress the most fastidious taste.'
It was perfectly true of the mother, perhaps less so of the daughter;
but Lady Kirkaldy only thought of her as a mere girl, who could easily
be modelled by her surroundings. The kind hostess applied herself to
giving the addresses of the people she thought likely to be most useful
in the complete outfit which she saw would be necessary, explaining to
which establishments she applied with confidence if she needed to
complete her wardrobe in haste, feeling certain that nothing would be
sent her that she disliked, and giving leave to use her name. She soon
saw that the mother was a little dazed, while Ursula's eyes grew
rounder at the unlimited vista of fine clothes, and she assented, and
asked questions as to the details. As to a maid, Lady Kirkaldy would
write to a person who would call on Mrs. Egremont at the hotel in
London, and who might be what was wanted; and in conclusion, Lady
Kirkaldy, with some diffidence, begged to be written to--'if--if,' she
said, 'there happened to be any difficulty about which you might not
like to consult Mrs. William Egremont.' Nuttie hardly knew whether to
be grateful or not, for she did not believe in any standard above that
of Micklethwayte, and she was almost angry at her mother's grateful
answer--'Oh, thank you! I should be so grateful! I am so afraid of
annoying him by what he may think small, ignorant, country-town ways!
You will understand--'
Lady Kirkaldy did understand, and she dreaded what might be before the
sweet little yielding woman, not from want of breeding so much as from
the long-indulged selfishness of her husband; but she encouraged her as
much as possible, and promised all possible counsel, bringing her
downstairs again just in time.
'Pretty little soul!' said Lord Kirkaldy, as the fly clattered away. 'I
wonder whether Mark has done her a kindness!'
'It is just what she is, a pretty, nay, a beautiful soul, full of
tenderness and forgiveness and affection and humility, only I doubt
whether there is any force or resolution to hold her own. You smile!
Well, perhaps the less of that she has the better she may get on with
him. Did he say anything about her?'
'No; I think he wants to ignore that they have not spent the last
twenty years together.'
'That may be the best way for all parties. Do you think he will behave
well to her?'
'No man could well do otherwise to such a sweet little thing,' said
Lord Kirkaldy; 'especially as she will be his most obedient slave, and
will make herself necessary to him. It is much better luck than he
deserves; but I pity her when she comes to make her way with yon
ladies!'
'I wish I was there! I know she will let herself be trodden on!
However, there's Mark to stand up for her, and William Egremont will do
whatever he thinks right and just. I wish I knew how his wife will
take it!'