It might have been well for young Henry Harding, and perhaps his brother
Nigel, too, in their first essay at love-making with Miss Mainwaring,
had they met with a similar mischance to that which had befallen me, and
taken it in the same spirit. As it was, they were either more or less
fortunate. Neither was a half-pay captain, without expectations; and,
instead of a discouragement almost amounting to dismissal, for a long
time both were permitted to bask in the smiles of the beautiful Belle.
There was a marked difference in the way the two brothers respectively
pressed their suit. Henry essayed to carry Belle Mainwaring's heart by
storm. Nigel, as his nature dictated, preferred making approach by sap
and trenching. The former made love with the boldness of the lion; the
latter with the insidious stealth of the tiger. When Henry believed
himself successful he made no attempt to conceal his gratification.
When the chances seemed to go against him, with equal openness did he
exhibit his chagrin. The reverse with Nigel. When fortune appeared to
smile upon his suit he showed no sign of being conscious of it. He
appeared alike impassable under her frown. So little demonstrative was
he in his affection for Miss Mainwaring that there were few people
believed in it, though among this few was the lady herself.
From what I could learn, and sometimes by the evidence of my own eyes,
she played her cards to perfection--her mother acting as _croupier_ to
the game. It was not long before she knew that she could take her
choice of the two, though some time before she declared it. Now one
appeared to be the favourite, anon the other--until the most intimate of
her associates were puzzled as to her partiality, or whether she even
cared for either. It was at least a question; for the beautiful Belle
did not restrict herself to receiving the admiration of the
half-brothers Harding. There were other young gentlemen in the
neighbourhood, who at balls and other gatherings were favoured with an
occasional smile; and Miss Mainwaring's heart was considered still
doubtful in its inclinings. There was a time, however, when it was
supposed to have become decided. At all events, there was a reason for
its doing so. An incident occurred in the hunting-field that should
have entitled Henry Harding to the hand of Belle Mainwaring--that is,
supposing it to be true that the brave deserve the fair. It was an
incident so rare as to be worth recording, irrespective of its bearing
upon our tale.
The hunt was with the staghounds, and the "meet" had taken place close
to a pond of considerable size, upon one of the open commons not rare
among the Chiltern Hills. As the stag bounded away from the cart, his
eye had caught the gleam of water, and in his hour of distress he
remembered it. Being a lazy brute, he did not run far; but, guided by
instinct, soon turned back towards the pond. He arrived at it, before
the carriages that had come to the meet had cleared away from the
ground. Among them was the pony-phaeton that contained Mrs Mainwaring
and her daughter Belle; the latter looking as roseate on that crisp
winter's morning as if her cheeks had taken their colour from the
scarlet coats of the huntsmen around her. The _attelage_ to which she
belonged was drawn up close to the edge of the pond, parallel with its
bank. The stag, on returning, shaved close past the pony's nose, and
plunged into the water. The consequence was that the latter became
alarmed even to frenzy; and, instead of turning towards the road, it
wheeled round in the opposite direction, and rushed into the pond after
the stag, dragging the phaeton along with it. It did not stop until the
water was up over the steps of the carriage, and the ladies' feet were
immersed in the chilly flood. But then the stag had stopped too, at
bay; and, believing the "trap" to be its cruel pursuer, the bayed animal
turned and charged upon the pony carriage and its contents. The pony
was knocked down in the traces; and then came the boy in buttons, who
was perched conspicuously on the seat behind. On the antlers of the
enraged animal he was hoisted skyward, and fell with a plunge into the
water. Next came the turn of the two ladies, or would have come, had
relief not been near. The smock-frocks had gone away from the ground,
following the chase; and it was not they who rushed to the rescue. Nor
was it Nigel Harding, who was first by the edge of the pond, having got
there through being last in the field. But there stayed he, sitting
irresolute in his saddle; and Miss Mainwaring might have had a stag's
antler through her delicate skin, but for Nigel's brother coming up at
the moment. He, instead of reining up by the water's edge, dashed in
through it, till his horse stood by the side of the carriage. Next
moment he sprang out of the saddle, and took the stag by the horns.
The struggle that ensued might have ended ill for him; but by this time
a smock-frock, in the shape of a hedger, up to his armpits in the water,
drew his chopper across the throat of the stag, and the conflict came to
an end.
The pony, but slightly injured, was got upon its feet; the page,
half-drowned, was hoisted back to his pinnacle; and the carriage, with
its frightened occupants, conducted safely to the shore.
Everybody left the ground with the belief that Miss Belle Mainwaring
would at some day, not far distant, become Mrs Henry Harding. More
especially did the country people believe it, and were delighted with
the idea; for with them--as is generally the case--the younger brother
was the favourite.