A CHANGE OF OPINION.
Among the guests expected at Mr. Drummond's table on that memorable
occasion was a gentleman of great note in the scientific world, to whom
Mr. Armstrong had been very anxious to be introduced. Indeed, this wish
had influenced him greatly in his ready acceptance of the invitation.
"My friend Professor Logan will dine with us on that evening," had been
Mr. Drummond's remark to Mr. Armstrong. "I suppose you have read his
address at the Royal Society on the inventions of the last thirty years?
It was correctly reported in the _Times_."
"Yes, indeed, and there I saw it," was the eager reply. "Is Professor
Logan your friend, Drummond? It will be a great privilege to meet such a
man."
"And he will be equally pleased with you," was the reply; "indeed, I
expect it will be quite a learned gathering, for I have asked three or
four other men of education to join us, and I almost fear the evening
will be dull for Mrs. Armstrong and your bright, lively daughter; but
Mrs. Drummond will be terribly disappointed if they do not come, and she
will make the evening as pleasant as possible for them. My nieces are
very musical, and----"
"Oh, pray do not make the invitation more attractive than it is
already," interrupted Mr. Armstrong. "My daughter's tastes resemble my
own, and she has had advantages of education which I have not. I'm
afraid, Drummond, your friends will expect too much from a self-taught
man like myself if you have, as you say, placed me on the list of your
'learned' acquaintance."
"Nonsense, Armstrong!" was the reply, as the omnibus stopped for that
gentleman to alight. "Mind," he added, as he waved his hand in farewell,
"we shall expect you all on Tuesday."
Mr. Armstrong's close carriage arrived at Argyle Lodge only five minutes
before the hour appointed for dinner. In a very short time, therefore,
Mary found herself being conducted to the dinner-table by a gentleman
whose face seemed familiar to her, but whose name, when spoken by her
hostess, she had not caught.
"I think I have had the pleasure of meeting Miss Armstrong once before,
when she brought her little brother to school," was the remark which
made Mary turn and look at her companion.
There was a smile on the face she had called plain, but it did not now
deserve such an epithet. The rough, dark hair, which in its disorder she
had likened to a "pussy-cat's tail in a rage," was now arranged in
shining wavy curls across the broad forehead; the dark eyebrows almost
meeting over the nose gave character to the face, and a look in the deep
blue eyes, although Mary Armstrong had quickly recognised her companion
as Henry Halford, made her ask herself if she had really ever seen them
before. So changed was the face, so expressive the glance, so winning
the smile, that Mary could only stammer out with a blushing face--
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Halford; I did not at first recognise you, but I
do now."
They entered the dining-room as she said this, and during the slight
commotion occasioned by placing every one with due regard to the varied
requirements which make the position of a hostess so difficult, Mary
could only recall with shame and wonder her satirical description of
Henry Halford.
The silence that generally pervades the company at the commencement of
dinner enabled Mary to recover herself and look round for the home
faces.
Her mother, who had been taken into dinner by Mr. Drummond, was seated
nearly opposite to her at his right hand. At the moment of this
discovery she observed her bow to some one on Mary's side of the table.
Her surprise at this caused her to lean forward slightly. What friend of
her mother's could be dining with Mr. Drummond?
A gentleman with white hair, and a pale, handsome face, was returning
the recognition. Mary was fairly puzzled, but she had conquered the
confusion caused by Mr. Henry Halford's unexpected appearance, and when
the conversation became general she could talk to her companion with
ease and intelligence.
Mary could hear her father's voice, but she could not see him, as he sat
at the same side of the table as herself by Mrs. Drummond.
Presently Henry Halford spoke.
"Are you acquainted with that gentleman at the head of the table on Mrs.
Drummond's left hand?" he asked, under cover of many voices.
Mary shook her head. She had observed that he and her father were
already in earnest conversation across the table, but he was a total
stranger to her.
"No, I am not," she replied; "all here are strangers to me, excepting
Mr. and Mrs. Drummond and my own parents."
"Then you do not know my father, to whom your mamma bowed just now. I
saw you lean forward to discover who had been so honoured by Mrs.
Armstrong's notice."
"Is that gentleman your father, Mr. Halford?" said Mary, simply. "I
think he is a very handsome old man; that silvery white hair always
looks to me beautiful when accompanied with dark eyebrows and eyes."
"My father would feel extremely flattered if he heard your opinion of
him, Miss Armstrong," said Henry Halford.
"I am not flattering," replied Mary, "I am only giving my opinion, and
you have not told me the name of that gentleman opposite. He looks
clever."
"Why, really, Miss Armstrong, I shall begin to be afraid of your opinion
about myself if you are so quick at reading character. That gentleman is
Professor Logan, whose address at the Royal Society has made such a stir
in the scientific world."
"Oh, I am so glad to meet him!" she exclaimed. "I know he must be clever
because papa is talking to him so earnestly, and I read his address at
the Royal Society in the _Times_."
"Did you, indeed, Miss Armstrong?" said Henry, in a tone of surprise.
"Certainly I did, and with very great interest. Is there anything very
wonderful in that, Mr. Halford?"
Henry Halford hesitated to reply; he looked earnestly at the young lady
who could read an address on the most abstruse sciences with "great
interest." He had heard young ladies spoken of rather contemptibly as
"pedants" and "blue-stockings." Was this gentle, simple-speaking girl by
his side one of these? Or if not, did she belong to the frivolous,
half-educated young ladies, who think of nothing but dress, or lovers,
or husbands _in futuro_? Although Mary had spoken of him as unused to
ladies' society with some truth, yet he had seen and heard enough to
judge of them as belonging to a sex inferior in strength both mentally
and physically, and in those days of which we write his judgment was not
far wrong.
"I will put a few questions to this young lady who expresses her
interest in abstruse subjects," he said to himself. "Perhaps after all
it is merely a smattering of knowledge which she possesses, and a wish
to be thought a 'blue.' Are you fond of scientific subjects, Miss
Armstrong?" he asked, with something akin to satire in the tone of his
voice.
But Mary Armstrong did not detect it; she replied unaffectedly--
"I think I am, at least so far as I can understand them, and that is not
to a very great extent; but arithmetic is a science, is it not? and I am
very fond of that; and I like the study of thorough-bass quite as well
as the practical part of music."
"I am rather surprised to hear a young lady say she is fond of
arithmetic," replied Henry Halford, rather amused, and doubtful still.
"How far have you penetrated into the mysteries of calculation?--to
Practice, perhaps?"
Mary now detected a shadow of satire.
"A little beyond Practice," she replied, with a smile. "I begin to feel
afraid to tell you how far, you appear so surprised that a girl should
learn boys' studies, but my father wished me to do so."
Henry Halford flushed deeply. The straightforward simplicity of the
young lady whom he wished to prove a pedant or a "blue" baffled him, and
made him feel ashamed of his satire.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Armstrong," he said. "It is such an unusual
thing in the present day to meet with young ladies who really care for
any studies beyond music and singing, and what are called the fine arts,
that I was a little incredulous; pray show me I am forgiven by telling
me what advance you have made in these studies, which you consider
belong to boys."
There was an earnestness and sincerity in the young man's voice which
could not be mistaken.
Mary replied candidly, but without the slightest appearance of
ostentation--
"Mr. Halford, papa himself taught me algebra after I had studied every
rule in arithmetic, and the first book of Euclid. That is the extent of
my knowledge--nothing so very wonderful, after all."
"And the _pons asinorum_, Miss Armstrong?"
"Yes," she replied, "even the _pons asinorum_."
There was a look of respect, mingled with surprise, on Henry Halford's
face; for once he had met with a young lady who had evidently some
pretensions to mental strength without being proud of it.
By degrees he managed to discover that, owing to her father's wise
decision, she had not been allowed to learn music without studying
thorough-bass, or drawing unless accompanied with the study of
perspective. But as, without asking direct questions, he contrived to
draw her out by adopting a conversational tone, he found to his delight
that this scientific young lady was far more deeply interested in poetry
and literature.
Mrs. Armstrong watched the fair face of her daughter as it lighted up
with pleasure at the poetical remarks of her companion, who criticised
her favourite authors with so much clearness and justice.
She was not sorry when Mrs. Drummond gave the signal for leaving the
table. She could read in the gentleman a growing interest and admiration
of her daughter, which made her uneasy; not a little increased by a
remark of Mr. Drummond's--
"Mr. Henry Halford and your daughter are getting on famously together. I
know that her education has been solid as well as accomplished, and he
appears to have found out that fact."
"Is that Dr. Halford's son?" asked Mrs. Armstrong; she remembered her
daughter's description of him as plain, but the young man so earnestly
conversing with Mary on a favourite topic was as usual giving to that
face the flashings of intellect, the expressive smile, and, it must be
owned, a too evident admiration of the fair girl by his side, which made
him unmistakably handsome.
"Yes; did you not know it?" was Mr. Drummond's reply. "And a really
clever fellow he is too; he has lately matriculated at Oxford. His
father wishes him to be a clergyman, and I have no doubt he will come
off with 'flying colours.'"
No wonder Mrs. Armstrong was relieved when the signal came to remove her
daughter from such dangerous company.
But Mary very soon restored her mother's peace of mind by the absence of
all consciousness when she referred to Mr. Henry Halford.
On entering the drawing-room the mother noticed with anxiety the deep
flush that so generally made Mary's face too brilliant. She watched her
as she wandered alone to a distant table and took up a book, after
examining several, and seated herself to read. She walked over to her
and said, "You are interested in your book, Mary."
"Yes, mamma; Mr. Henry Halford has been talking about Milton's 'Paradise
Lost,' and he has explained to me a great deal of those learned terms
and classical references which make some pages of the book so difficult
to understand, and I mean to read it through again; you know how fond I
am of Milton."
"Yes, dear," said her mother, "but you cannot do so now in Mrs.
Drummond's drawing-room."
"No, mamma, of course not; I was only glancing over a few pages to try
how much I could remember of Mr. Henry Halford's explanations. Oh,
mamma, you cannot imagine how clever he is."
"No doubt, and I hear he is at Oxford studying for the Church. But,
Mary, do you remember your description of Dr. Halford's son? In my
opinion he is anything but plain, and his hair----"
"Oh, mamma, pray don't refer to what I once said;" and Mrs. Armstrong
knew that the flush on Mary's cheek as she spoke arose from shame at her
foolish words, nothing more. "I hardly looked at him that morning, but
now that I have heard him speak with so much animation and cleverness I
consider Mr. Henry Halford handsome; don't you, mamma?"
This simple admission satisfied the anxious mother; she agreed readily
with her daughter's remark, and a servant advancing with tea and coffee
put a stop to the conversation.
Presently the gentlemen made their appearance.
Mary noticed that her father and Mr. Henry Halford were eagerly
discussing scientific subjects with Professor Logan as they entered.
Even as they stood with a cup of coffee in the hand of each, the subject
was being carried on with great earnestness.
At last one of Mr. Drummond's nieces approached the piano, at her aunt's
request, and struck a few chords.
A sudden pause, and then the rich tones of the singer hushed the
scientific controversy. Even those who had no natural appreciation of
harmonious sounds were attracted to listen; among these ranked Henry
Halford.
To a singer with less confidence the silence would have been fatal, but
Edith Longford was not likely to fail from nervousness, and there is
nothing so calculated to steady the nerves of a performer in any subject
as a perfect knowledge of what he is about.
As the soft melodious tones ceased, Henry Halford contrived to whisper
to Miss Armstrong a question, intended to try whether the young girl,
whose conversation had so interested him at dinner, could bear the
praise of another without jealousy.
During the song he had not been able to resist the attraction of her
presence. Although really occupied with the subject of dispute as he
entered the room, Henry Halford's quick eye discovered at once the
whereabouts of Mr. Armstrong's daughter, and he had gradually moved
towards the table where she sat.
"Miss Longford plays and sings well, Miss Armstrong," were the words
that made Mary start from a reverie. "I am quite ignorant of music
theoretically, and I have no natural taste for the harmonies; but you
can tell me whether my opinion is a correct one."
"I, Mr. Halford!" said Mary, recovering herself; "Miss Longford is far
beyond me in music. I could not take the liberty of forming a judgment
upon her, excepting that I know she sings and plays far better than I
do."
"Generous and candid," said the young man to himself as a gentleman
advanced to lead Mary to the piano. He followed them, and stood
listening with surprise to the simple English ballad which Mary sang
with real taste and feeling.
Henry Halford when alone in his room that night made a decision in his
own mind on certain points; in some of these, had he remained firm and
unshaken, our story would have ended here.
"Mary Armstrong is a very beautiful girl," were his first mental words,
"full of intellectual knowledge, far beyond any young lady I have ever
met. She is candid, plain-speaking, impervious to flattery, and generous
to a rival--at least if Miss Longford is a rival. For my part, I
consider Miss Armstrong's music far more pleasing. And then what a
talented man her father is! no wonder, with such a teacher, his daughter
should be so different from other girls. I have met many girls, but none
like Miss Armstrong."
By a strange association of ideas, to which we are all subject, Easter
and Oxford presented themselves to his mind, and the involuntary sigh
that followed a recollection of the fact that in less than a week he
should be miles away from Mary Armstrong, changed the whole current of
his thoughts.
"How absurdly I am allowing my mind to dwell upon this young lady!" he
said to himself. "A man so rich as her father will of course wish her to
marry a man of wealth, and one equal in position to her mother's
relations. I might lay claim to the latter qualification, but what shall
I be at the end of my three years at Oxford? an usher in my father's
school, or a curate with an income of perhaps 100_l._ a year or less. I
will think of her no more!"