“THE COMING EVENT.”
The preparations for the marriage of Lord Verner to Miss Tallant
gradually drew towards completion, and the fashionable world was
all agog at the event. The newspapers had published all kinds of
piquant paragraphs about the beauty of the bride, her great wealth,
the nobility of her birth, and the immense riches of the bridegroom.
Introduced by the popular gossip-preface _on dit_, the _Court Journal_
and _Court Circular_ had fairly vied with each other in racy scraps
about Montem Castle and Barton Hall. A journal devoted to the fine arts
had made the discovery that many of the landscapes by the now famous
artist, Arthur Phillips, were copies of the glorious scenery in that
beautiful valley of Avonworth where Barton Hall was situated.
Local newspapers dug up from local histories and elsewhere anecdotes of
the Verners, and expressed their belief that his lordship the present
Earl would now take his place at the head of the county, and mix in
society, as his noble father had done before him. It was, indeed,
confidently stated that this would be the effect of his lordship’s
marriage, and the county was congratulated upon the event in a hearty,
manful style. One journalist, evidently with the fear of London and
_Punch_ and Eatanswill before him, came out in a very explanatory
sketch, in which he ventured to point out how legitimate it was that
county people should make a fuss on the occasion of this marriage,
and how proper it was that the newspapers should set forth the event
as one of great importance. It was all very well for London people to
think lightly of such things; but Londoners were altogether differently
placed. They made fuss enough on the occasion of royal marriages, and
filled their newspapers with orange-blossom articles. In a city like
Severntown the nobility were mixed up with the social, political, and
religious welfare of the place. The citizens rejoiced in having such
neighbours, and it was right that they should acknowledge the dignity
and worth of their native aristocracy. In the present instance the
union of an Earl of Verner with the daughter of a woman of the house
of Petherington, and daughter of the late Christopher Tallant, a
merchant prince, was an event of importance not only to the county of
Severnshire but to England. The provincial editor, though he might feel
that he was saying nothing silly, nor anything smacking of toadyism,
thought it judicious once more in this place to contrast the difference
between provincial editors and London editors. The latter might think
it fine to laugh at enthusiastic provincials, but Londoners could not
possibly enter into the feelings which must necessarily animate a
provincial community on an occasion like the present. Londoners who
did not talk politics, and could not understand the intense excitement
of an election, did not know what it was to live in a restricted
community associated with noble and wealthy families who possessed
means and facilities for being of the greatest social benefit to those
amongst whom they lived.
Our friend got a little involved at this point of his elaborate
justification of himself. There was so much of special pleading in
his article that the intelligent reader might not unfairly think
that he knew he was toadying a little, and was fighting an attack by
anticipation. In one portion of his article he was very bitter; he said
that the London newspaper-men, who professed to look down from the
greatest heights upon provincials, were provincials themselves. Then
he claimed all the best men in town as countrymen, and vowed that all
the most noteworthy magazine articles were written by provincials. How
the editor drifted into this irrelevant discussion was curious to note;
how he got back again to the subject in hand was a marvel of literary
art. He finished by showing how the marriages of the great influenced
the destinies of a nation, and he went back to the remotest times for
illustrations of this important point.
Even at the risk of involving the narrative, we pause to tell the
reader that the provincial thunderer in question has since succeeded
in obtaining an appointment in town, and that he has begun already
to look down from his high tower upon his humbler brethren of the
Severnshire press; indeed, he is said to be the writer of that amusing
satirical tract on “Mrs. Grundy’s Borough,” which lampoons so smartly
the society, public and private, of the old city. Well, “circumstances
alter cases,” as the _Severntown Mercury_ wisely remarked in reviewing
that offensive publication, which took the old city and the post-office
by storm one morning not very long ago. The London provincial
gentleman, if he be living now (and we hope he is living happily and
prosperously), will we trust forgive our allusion to this incident; he
may say that it is more irrelevant to this history than that passage in
his article to the subject discussed. Perhaps he is right; we bow to
his opinion with all deference. We can assure him that we should not
have mentioned him at all, only that our story seemed to demand it.
Honestly endeavouring to place these records of modern history fairly
before the reader, we could not, without something like a breach of
faith, have excluded the journalistic features of the union of the
houses of Verner and Tallant, and particularly when we consider the
consequences of that interesting and delightful marriage.
It would appear that when the Hon. Elizabeth Petherington married
Christopher Tallant, Esq., her family had discarded her. Being of high
and noble birth, the other ladies of her family had not approved of the
marriage, and when the male head of the Petheringtons died, the female
tails cut themselves off from the wife of the merchant prince; so that
neither Phœbe nor Amy had ever heard from the Petheringtons, and Miss
Tallant, in fact, knew nothing of them until she received a friendly
and affectionate letter from Lady Petherington, reminding her of the
relationship, and desiring that she might be by her niece’s side at
the wedding. This renewal of family friendship resulted in the broken
threads of other links being gathered together, and as those hymeneal
paragraphs continued to appear in the fashionable newspapers, there
opened up to the bride elect quite a party of relatives and friends,
who came and visited her shortly before the time fixed for the wedding;
so that all of a sudden Barton Hall became quite gay with visitors,
and Phœbe was invited to come amongst her dear friend’s newly-found
relations. Phœbe feared at first that she might be embarrassed in
such high society; but she was not in the least, and Miss Tallant
complimented her upon her beauty and her charming manners. As for Amy,
she received her guests with the most graceful dignity, though her
aunt, Lady Petherington, was piqued and annoyed at the high tone of
her niece. Her ladyship confessed to her sister that the young woman
actually patronised her--she was sure of it; she had never met with
such audacity. The poor thing was certainly rather good-looking and
dreadfully rich, she believed--shockingly rich--so she supposed they
must put up with her airs. The Verners were an old family, and wealthy,
too, she said, and no doubt his lordship was marrying for money. What
he could see in the young woman beyond that, of course, she was at
a loss to know. The sister did not quite agree with her ladyship;
she vowed she thought the young person very tolerable indeed, very
tolerable; of course it did not concern her whether she were so or
otherwise. An introduction to Earl Verner’s set--for of course he would
go thoroughly into society now--was all she cared for, coupled with one
month in the year at Montem Castle.
During their stay his lordship sent over carriages to convey them to
Montem, where he gave them a magnificent entertainment, and showed
them his house and grounds. Miss Somerton was of the party, much to
the disappointment of Arthur Phillips, who had come over on that day to
sketch a particular spot which Phœbe loved.
Lady Petherington and her sister (who, by the way, were both grey,
if the truth had been known, and wore false teeth) made themselves
particularly amiable at Montem, and the eldest (Amy said she was
fifty, at least) was by no means comfortable under what she called the
ignorantly patronising airs of Miss Tallant. We fear Amy did not intend
to enhance the happiness of Lady Petherington’s visits.
“They only came, your lordship,” she said to the Earl, when they were
alone for a few minutes in the gardens, “they only came because I am
going to be a countess.”
“Good, good,” said his lordship, swinging his eye-glass round, and
looking admiringly at the fine woman who was laughing and chatting so
easily.
“It is true. I never heard of them until the other day: they cut my
poor mother for marrying a commoner. Fancy, your lordship, only fancy
Lady Mary Petherington cutting any one!”
Amy laughed quite bewitchingly at the idea of any one caring what
opinion Lady Mary Petherington might have concerning them.
“There! Now I know you will think me shockingly ungrateful, after
they have condescended so much,” went on the merry girl, patting his
lordship’s hand with her fan, and flashing her big dark eyes upon him.
“What a merry laugh it is; it does one’s heart good,” said his
lordship, offering Miss Tallant his arm, and leading her away at the
sound of approaching footsteps.
“These ladies have only come to make your lordship’s acquaintance, not
mine; they have determined to spend long visits at Montem Castle. I saw
Lady Mary choosing her room when she was looking at those beautiful
apartments on the first floor. I did indeed,” she went on, and then
she laughed again, and Lord Verner laughed, and said the Countess was
full of fun.
Whether it was fun or not, he said the Countess of Verner should select
her own guests, and at this moment their ladyships and Phœbe joined
them on the terrace.
A few minutes afterwards, when Phœbe and the future Countess went
up-stairs to put on their shawls, Miss Tallant sat down wearily in the
first chair that presented itself, wearied and jaded with the part she
had been playing. What a fine actress she would have made; her _rôle_
would have included all the glorious women of the drama, from “Lady
Teazle” to “Constance” in King John.
END OF VOL. II.
BRADBURY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
Transcriber’s Notes
Italics are indicated as _italics_.
Apparent typographical errors have been changed.
Inconsistent word hyphenation and spelling have been regularized.
The title of Chapter VII in the table of contents was changed from
“HIMSELF IT ANOTHER CHARACTER” to “HIMSELF IN ANOTHER CHARACTER.”
Page 2: “brooded over her owly birth” changed to “brooded over her
lowly birth”.
Page 11: “late events; i really grieves me” changed to “late events; it
really grieves me”.
Page 74: “influence you orthodox views” changed to “influence your
orthodox views”.
Page 123: “will and testament of Mr. Richard Tallant” changed to “will
and testament of Mr. Christopher Tallant”.
Page 180: “and rate him an he dare” changed to “and rate him and he
dare”.
Page 199: “critising” changed to “criticising”.
Page 214: “of Tyzell and Kits” changed to “of Twyzell and Kits”.
Page 271: “she was Crawley’s husband” changed to “she was Crawley’s
wife”.
Page 280: “by her neice’s side” changed to “by her niece’s side”.