FIRST IMPRESSIONS.
Mary Armstrong returned home after leaving Freddy at school, quite
unaware of the disturbance her appearance had created in the mind of
Henry Halford; and indeed so perfectly indifferent, that after removing
her walking dress she entered the dining-room where her mother sat, and
said--
"I did not see Dr. Halford, mamma, he was engaged in the schoolroom, but
his son took charge of Freddy."
"His son! Ah, yes, I remember he spoke of a son who was studying for the
Church. From Dr. Halford's description I should say this son was a man
of very studious habits."
"Yes, mamma, and I am sure he must be, for he appears quite unused to
the society of ladies; he hesitated, and stammered, and seemed hardly
able to say a word: he did manage, however, to explain that he expected
to see Mrs. Armstrong. I set him down as a bookworm at once."
Mrs. Armstrong glanced at her daughter; she was not one of those foolish
mothers who overrate the charms of their daughters, but a thought she
could not repress made her fear that this son of Dr. Halford's might be
a dangerous acquaintance. A kind of presentiment of evil made her look
at Mary intently as she took her German books from a side-table and
commenced studying the language just then coming into vogue.
There was a look of perfect indifference on the face which Mrs.
Armstrong so carefully studied, and yet she could not help saying
suddenly, "What sort of young man is Dr. Halford's son in appearance,
Mary?"
The sound of her mother's voice made Mary look up with a start from a
difficult exercise. "_Haben sie!_" she exclaimed aloud; and then, "Oh,
mamma, I beg your pardon, did you not ask me a question? I have such a
puzzling sentence here, and I quite forgot what Herr Kling told me about
it."
"It was nothing of importance, my dear," said her mother, as carelessly
as she could speak; "I only asked you what sort of a young man Dr.
Halford's son is in appearance."
"Handsome or plain, you mean, mamma," was the reply: "certainly not
handsome, and his hair looked as if, while poring over a book, he had
been pushing it up with his hands till it stood on end like pussy's tail
when she is angry."
"My dear, what a comparison!" said her mother, with a laugh and a
feeling of satisfaction. But Mary felt ashamed of her description.
"I ought not to speak in this way, mamma, I know; the fact is, when I
found young Mr. Halford so confused, I avoided looking at him; but he is
a gentleman, I could see that, and his hair is black. He appeared to be
careless about his dress and appearance, and that, added to his confused
manner, made me think he was a bookworm. You know, mamma, two or three
of papa's friends who are so wrapped up in science and literature fidget
me dreadfully when they dine here. Mr. Barnett, the great engineer,
often has his collar on one side, or a button off his boots, and they
all look as if they dressed in the dark, and without a looking-glass. So
I suppose young Mr. Halford will be just the same. Oh, mamma, please
don't make me talk any more," she added, glancing at the clock. "Herr
Kling will be here in half an hour, and I am not yet ready for him."
Mrs. Armstrong was quite contented to remain silent. The easy and rather
satirical tone in which Mary spoke of Dr. Halford's son removed all
apprehension from her mind for the present.
Mr. Armstrong she knew too well would harshly oppose marriage for his
daughter with any man who did not possess the means of making a handsome
settlement on his wife, and raising her to the position of her mother's
relations. Neither of Mary's parents wished her to marry young: the idea
of losing her was agony to Mrs. Armstrong, and a constant dread had now
arisen in the mother's heart lest this new position in a country home,
which had already drawn them into society, might lead Mary to form a
girlish attachment not in accordance with the conditions laid down by
her father.
Mr. Armstrong, however, had no such fears; Mary's ready acquiescence in
all his wishes, and the evident respect she had always shown to his
opinions, caused him to overlook in his child a will as firm and
unbending as his own.
Hitherto none of his requirements had been opposed to the deeper or more
sensitive feelings of her nature. Mary could overcome her repugnance so
long as her father's wishes only required the sacrifice of certain
conventional rules, and minor matters of opinion. But he could make no
distinction, and he was prepared to expect implicit obedience in every
point, even where her wishes were opposed to his. The thought that she
would ever fail in this obedience never entered his mind.
Mrs. Armstrong understood her daughter's character more correctly than
her husband, with all his boasted superiority of intellect, and
therefore she dreaded a passage of arms between these two so near and
dear to her.
The trial was more closely at hand than even she for a moment
anticipated.
Little Freddy often brought home from school a full and particular
account of some incident that had occurred during the day, and in which
he had been greatly interested.
These incidents were listened to by Mary only out of love to her little
brother; and although very often Mr. Henry Halford's name stood
prominent in these narrations, Mary's interest on that account was very
little excited. It gratified her, however, to find that the child was
treated with great kindness by both father and son, and to hear his
earnest declaration--
"Oh, Mary, I like Mr. Henry Halford so much, he is so kind to us little
ones in the playground; he plays at peg-top, and all sorts of games,
with us; and sometimes we go into the cricket-field, without the big
boys, and he teaches us how to play; isn't it kind of him?"
All this was very pleasing to Mrs. Armstrong, more especially as she
could discern very clearly that Mary listened to it all as a matter of
course. No suspicion that this kindness to her brother could arise from
a wish to win the sister, or for her sake, entered her mind.
Not so her mother; suspicions of this kind would intrude themselves at
times, only to be set aside by her daughter's evident indifference.
Mrs. Armstrong, however, was wrong. Henry Halford's kindness to the
little boys arose from a natural love of children, and Freddy Armstrong
was not favoured more than others. All thoughts of the fair girl whose
appearance had so confused him on that cold January morning had been
banished with determination. After school duties ceased he became, as
usual every day, absorbed in his books, his only recreation a game at
cricket, or, as we have heard, the fun with the juniors, which gave him
the greatest pleasure. And so the weeks passed on, and brought with them
signs of the approach of spring.
One afternoon, about a fortnight before Easter, Mr. Armstrong returned
from the City rather earlier than usual, to have a ride with his
daughter. He had on this account travelled to town and back by the
omnibus.
"Give me half an hour's rest, Mary," he said, as she came in full of
pleasure to ask when he wished to start.
"Yes, papa," she replied, "and there will be also time for you to have a
cup of tea with mamma; she generally has it about four o'clock." Away
ran Mary to hasten the refreshing "cup which cheers but not inebriates,"
while Mr. Armstrong seated himself and began to talk to his wife.
"I shall not be sorry to have a cup of tea," he said, "for I rode
outside the 'bus, and the roads are too dusty to be pleasant, whatever
the old proverb may say, and perhaps with some truth, that 'a peck of
March dust is worth a king's ransom.'"
"If it is good for the gardens and the harvest to have a dry March,"
said Mrs. Armstrong, "it is certainly worth while to bear the
inconvenience, and my health is always much better in dry, clear
weather. Your proverb about March dust will form another incentive for
patience when it troubles me while taking my daily walks."
"How much improved your health appears lately, my dear Maria!" remarked
her husband, after a pause; "and you are looking almost as young as
ever. I am not a little pleased to find you in such good spirits,
because I want you to join me in accepting an invitation next week to
dinner at the Drummonds'; I suppose you have returned Mrs. Drummond's
visit?"
"Oh yes, a few weeks ago; she is a most pleasant, lady-like woman, and
we were friends almost immediately."
"Then you will raise no objection, my dear; indeed, I am sure the change
will be good for you. Mary is also invited, and I have my reasons for
wishing her to go. Drummond rode with me from town to-day, and I
accepted his invitation for Mary and myself at once, but for you
conditionally."
"I shall be happy to go with you," replied his wife. "The Drummonds are
people I should wish Mary to know, and I am much more able to bear an
evening visit at this time of the year than in the depth of winter. You
must remember, Edward, that even when living in London I always regained
health and strength in the spring and early summer."
"And here, of course, your health and strength are doubly sure to
improve in these seasons," he replied, laughing. "Ah, well, darling, I
am glad we made the change for your sake."
The appearance of the tea put a stop to the conversation, and in a very
short time Mrs. Armstrong stood at the door watching her daughter as she
sprang lightly to her saddle, on a beautiful grey mare, her father's
latest gift.
Bucephalus is not, however, quite discarded; sometimes in the morning
she will take him for a canter over the heath, or in the holidays join
her brothers, one of whom rides Rowland's pony, and the other
Bucephalus. Edward Armstrong is fifteen now, and has grown too tall for
Boosey; during the absence of the elder boys the pony belongs entirely
to Freddy, who is learning to ride under Mary's guidance.
During their ride, Mr. Armstrong told Mary of the invitation to dinner
at Mr. Drummond's. "You will like to pay such a visit, I suppose," he
said, "and I have accepted the invitation for you as well as myself."
"Will it be a large party?" asked Mary, timidly; she had no thought of
opposing her father's wishes, after hearing that he had accepted the
invitation for her, but she remembered her discomfort at her first
dinner-party, at which a large number of guests were present, some of
them not very refined, and certainly not well-bred.
In fact, she could not help making comparisons between the noisy, and to
her, almost vulgar visitors at the table; or at the evening parties of
the rich in the neighbourhood, and the quiet refinement and dignity of
such gatherings at the homes of her mother's relations.
Something akin to Mary's thoughts was passing through her father's mind
before he answered her question, and influenced his reply.
"Mr. Drummond told me to-day that he did not expect more than six or
eight guests in addition to his own family. And, Mary," he continued,
"you need not fear meeting coarseness or vulgarity at Mr. Drummond's
table. Your mother has readily consented to accompany us, and that is a
sufficient proof that she considers the friends of Mrs. Drummond fit
associates for her daughter."
"Oh, papa," said Mary, "I hope you do not think it was pride that made
me speak as if I did not wish to go, only I do dread a large number of
people; and papa----" But Mary paused; she hesitated, with the delicacy
of a refined mind, to speak of the coarse flattery to which she had been
subjected at one dinner-party by some of the gentlemen when they left
the dining-room.
"And what, my dear?" said her father, gently.
"I told mamma," she replied, "when I came home, but I only meant to ask
you whether some of the gentlemen at Mr. Ward's dinner party had not
taken too much wine."
A flush of indignation rose to Mr. Armstrong's brow as he thought of
what, under such circumstances, some of them might have said to his
gentle daughter. Determining to ask her mother, however, he merely
said,--"I fear such was the case, Mary, but you are not likely to meet
with anything of that kind at the Drummonds'. The practice of staying
for hours after dinner, drinking wine, till men make themselves unfit
for the company of ladies, is happily becoming less frequent in good
society. And now," he added, looking at his watch, "we must canter for
awhile, or we shall be late for dinner."