IX. IN WHICH MISS CLOTILDE TRIPP AND MISS FLORA SICKLE-MORE MAKE THEIR APPEARANCE.
|Not long after Sigebert's departure, Mr. Higgins, Lady Thicknesse's butler, arrived, and was cordially welcomed by Mr. Tankard.
Stout, florid, bald-headed, well-mannered, quiet, wearing a white choker and a black dress coat, Mr. Higgins seemed the very model of a butler, and he certainly was most useful and important in the establishment over which he ruled. Lady Thicknesse confessed she could not do anything without Higgins.
“Odd things occurred this afternoon.” remarked Higgins, after a little preliminary converse; “and I'll mention it now, while there's an opportunity. Sir Bridgnorth Charlton called on my lady; but, as she wasn't at home at the time, he conferred with me, and inquired whether I knew anything about Mr. Chetwynd Calverley. I told him 'no.' I had often heard the name in Cheshire, but had never, that I was aware of, seen the gentleman. This didn't satisfy Sir Bridgnorth. He next inquired whether we had recently discharged a footman, and I told him 'yes,' but we had just engaged another, though I myself had not yet seen the new man, but I expected he would enter on the place to-morrow. I had received a very good character of him from you. Sir Bridgnorth then inquired your address, which I gave him, and likewise the young man's name—Walter Liddel—and he expressed his intention of calling upon you. I can't tell what he wants, or why he began by asking about Mr. Chetwynd Calverley.”
“Sir Bridgnorth has not been here yet, and I've nothing to tell him when he does come,” remarked Tankard. “I never heard of Mr. Chetwynd Calverley. Who is he?”
“The son of a rich gentleman who lived at Ouselcroft, in Cheshire. He was ruined on the turf, and disinherited by his father, and his stepmother has got the entire property. These circumstances happened about a year ago, and were the talk of the county at the time, so perhaps you may have heard of them.”
“No; they're news to me,” replied Tankard. “I never was in Cheshire—never heard of Ouselcroft, or the Calverleys. But the case is not very extraordinary. We do hear occasionally of youngsters getting ruined on the turf, and being disinherited in consequence. It's a piece of luck for the stepmother.”
“Yes; and she's young and handsome!” said Higgins.
Their converse was here interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Tankard and Tom, both of whom expressed themselves as very glad to see Mr. Higgins.
The lady wore a yellow satin dress, covered with black lace, and a rather showy cap; and Tom had the usual evening dress, with white tie and polished boots.
Tea and coffee had just been brought in by a female servant, when a knock was heard at the side-door, and directly afterwards a very tall, well-powdered footman advanced with stately step into the room, and announced, in agreeable tones, not too loud, but quite loud enough, Mr. Henry Netterville.
Nothing could be more effective than Walter's entrance.
Higgins gazed at him in astonishment. Prepared as he was to behold a fine, tall footman, he had not expected such a well-grown, handsome young fellow as this.
“By Jove! he'll do!” he exclaimed.
Harry Netterville, who was by no means a bad-looking fellow, and no smaller than the rest of his species, was completely dwarfed by the tall footman.
Tankard and his wife expressed their satisfaction in low tones; but the irrepressible Tom gave a little applause.
Walter, however, having done his devoir, immediately withdrew, being summoned by another knock at the door; but presently reappeared and ushered in Mrs. Tripp and her daughter, who were quite astonished at being thus introduced, and thought the Tankards must have taken leave of their senses.
Mrs. Tripp was a milliner, and Clotilde Tripp, who assisted her mother, was a very pretty girl, and looked upon Tom as an admirer.
But she had a formidable rival in Flora Sicklemore, whose mother kept a Berlin wool, fringe, and trimming warehouse in Kennington Road. Flora was quite as pretty as Clotilde—much prettier, in her own opinion—for had she not bright golden locks and a very fair skin—while Clotilde's tresses were coal-black, and her complexion olive-coloured!
Both charmers were smartly dressed, and both bent on captivating Tom.
Like the Tripps, the Sicklemores were filled with amazement at the sight of the grand footman, but they felt sure such an extraordinary addition to the establishment could only have been made by Tom.
Everybody had now arrived, except the Hartleys.
At last they appeared. Walter received them as he had done the others, at the side-door, and offered to announce them, but Rose wouldn't let him; so they entered the room quite quietly, but were very cordially welcomed by the host and hostess; and even Tom, for some reason or other, was particularly civil to them. He paid Rose a great many compliments; but they were appreciated by the young lady at what they were worth; and she gladly turned to Harry Netterville, who was dying to talk to her, and who devoted himself to her for the rest of the evening.
Meanwhile, Higgins, wishing to have a word with the new footman, went in quest of him with Mr. Tankard.
They found him in the shop, which communicated with the other rooms. Bows and presentations took place. Then the parties shook hands.
“'Pon my word, Liddel,” said Higgins, in a good-natured but extremely patronising manner, “you promise exceedingly well! Indeed, with a little instruction, which I shall be extremely happy to give you, I unhesitatingly assert you will 'do!'”
“Such commendation from a gentleman of your judgment and experience is extremely encouraging, Mr. Higgins,” said Walter, bowing. “I was really desirous you should see me before I was finally engaged, that you might form your own opinion as to my capabilities.”
“I had perfect confidence in my friend Tankard,” replied Higgins; “nor did he mislead me. You have great personal advantages, Liddel, and they count for much in a footman. I will say this for you, and you may take it as a high compliment, I have never before seen our livery look so well.”
“I am much gratified,” replied Walter, again bowing.
“A single question, and I have done,” said Higgins. “Do you happen to know Sir Bridgnorth Charlton?”
“I am aware there is such a person,” replied Walter, rather embarrassed.
“I've also a question to ask you, Liddel,” remarked Tankard. “Did you ever hear of Mr. Chetwynd Calverley?”
“Not lately,” replied Walter, without hesitation; “and I don't think I am likely to hear of him again very soon. I fancy he has disappeared altogether. But why do you inquire, sir?”
“Sir Bridgnorth Charlton was asking about him this morning,” interposed Higgins: “and, somehow, you got mixed up in the inquiry.”
“That's strange,” replied Walter. “Surely he didn't suppose I was Mr. Calverley?”
“No; he didn't think that,” rejoined Higgins, laughing; “but he wanted some information respecting the young gentleman.”
“Well, I'm unable to give him any,” said Walter.
X. SUPPER.
|After a brief conference with Pledger Dapp, Mr. Tankard returned with Higgins to the company.
Presently, the gladsome announcement was made by the fine footman that supper was ready.
Mr. Tankard showed his guests the way by taking out Mrs. Tripp; Mrs. Sicklemore followed with Hartley, whose arm she took with some reluctance; then came Larkins with Mrs. Hartley; then Harry Netterville with Rose, by far the best-looking couple in the assemblage; then came the gallant Tom, with a young lady on either arm, singing to himself, like Captain Macheath, “How happy could I be with either;” and, lastly, came the hostess and Mr. Higgins.
Walter stood at the supper-room door as the company entered, and Flora and Clotilde made some complimentary remarks upon his appearance. Tom, however, would not allow them to stop for a moment, but took them to their seats, and placed himself between them.
The table was not very large, but it was well covered with dishes; for Pledger Dapp had been as good as his word, and had given a capital supper.
The chickens, hams, and tongues being ready carved, could be helped without delay; and the lobster salad was pronounced faultless by Mr. Higgins, who professed to be a judge.
The creams, jellies, and pâtisserie were equally good, and Tom took care the young ladies should have plenty.
Nor was Harry Netterville less attentive, though Rose was far more easily satisfied.
Claret-cup and sherry were the beverages, and the glasses were constantly replenished by Pledger Dapp.
Ever since the supper began, Walter had disappeared. At length, his absence was remarked by Flora and Clotilde.
“I don't see your fine footman, Mr. Tom,” said the former. “I suppose he won't wait at supper?”
“Can't say,” replied Tom. “He does pretty much as he likes.”
“Now, do tell me, Mr. Tom,” said Clotilde, “is he really a footman?”
“To be sure he is!” cried Tom. “What do you take him for?”
“I take him for a gentleman,” said Flora.
“And so do I,” added Clotilde.
“Well, he is a gentleman, in his way,” said Tom. “What wages do you suppose we give him? A hundred a year—quarter in advance—separate meals. He's gettin' his supper by himself at this moment; will have his pint of champagne, though the guv'nor only allows us claret-cup—ha! ha!”
“I don't believe all this stuff you're telling us about high wages and champagne, Mr. Tom,” said Flora. “But I'm certain there's something extraordinary about your new footman. You may as well let us into the secret.”
“Well, if you want to know his history, I must refer you to Miss Rose Hartley,” said Tom. “She can tell you about him.”
“Is this so, Rose?” said Harry Netterville, who overheard the remark.
“Don't ask me for any explanation just now, please Harry,” she replied; “I'd rather not give it.”
“Why not?” cried Netterville, who was rather of a jealous temper. “Have you known him long? I never heard of him before.”
“I have already said I shall not answer any questions concerning him just now.”
“Ah! yonder he is!” exclaimed Flora. “I can see him in the shop, through the open door. I declare, he has changed his dress! He doesn't look half so imposing now.”
“But he is much more like a gentleman,” said Clo-tilde, who also perceived Walter in the shop, now in his morning attire. “Do be good-natured, Mr. Tom, and tell us who he is!”
“I would rather stop both your mouths with a little of this trifle,” said Tom, helping them.
Harry Netterville's eyes had followed the same direction as those of the two girls.
He noticed the change that had taken place in Walter's exterior, and said, rather sharply:
“Clear up the mystery, Rose.”
“Not to-night,” she replied, quietly.
“I wish Mr. Liddel would come in and join us at supper,” said Mr. Tankard to Pledger Dapp. “Do go and ask him.”
“Yes; pray do, Mr. Dapp!” said Flora. “We can easily make room for him here.”
But Walter was prevented.
Just before the message was sent, a knock was heard; and, thinking it was a visitor, he went to open the street-door, and found himself face to face with Sir Bridgnorth Charlton and Mr. Carteret.
An instantaneous recognition took place on either side. Walter hastily retreated, but neglected to shut the door after him; and the two gentlemen followed him into the shop, where he checked their further progress.
“You must excuse this intrusion,” said Sir Bridgnorth, “and attribute it to my anxiety to find you. I have been searching for you everywhere, and rejoice that I am, at last, successful.”
“Not so loud, Sir Bridgnorth,” said the young man, pointing to the party in the adjoining room. “I am only known here as Walter Liddel.”
“What I have to say may be said very briefly; and it cannot matter who hears it,” rejoined Sir Bridgnorth. “Your friends wish you to return to them.”
“I have already given Mr. Carteret an answer,” said Walter. “I refuse.”
“But I would remonstrate with you on your folly.”
“It is useless. I beg there may not be a scene. It will produce no good effect, and may do mischief, by interfering with my plans.”
“But your plans cannot be carried out. Come to me at the Grosvenor Hotel to-morrow, and I will convince you of their utter absurdity.”
“No,” replied Walter; “I am inflexible in my purpose. The only favour I will ask of you and Mr. Carteret is not to reveal my name.”
“But, my good fellow, listen to reason. Don't take a step you will most assuredly repent. Hereafter you will thank me most heartily for giving you this advice. You won't want money. Carteret has got five hundred pounds, which he will pay over to you. You won't want friends, for we will all rally round you. Come, don't hesitate!”
It was clear that the worthy gentleman's earnestness had produced an impression. Walter seemed inclined to yield, but still hung back.
At this moment, Tankard, who had heard some conversation going on, came out of the supper-room, accompanied by Hartley and Higgins.
As they issued forth, they shut the door after them,
“I believe I have the honour of addressing Sir Bridgnorth Charlton,” said Tankard, bowing.
“Yes, I am Sir Bridgnorth,” replied the other; “and I feel persuaded you will assist me to restore this rather wrong-headed young gentleman to his friends.”
“Then I am right in my notion that he is Mr. Chetwynd Calverley?” remarked Tankard.
“It is useless to conceal his name, though he seems to desire it,” rejoined Sir Bridgnorth.
“Yes, I am Chetwynd Calverley,” said the young man. “I care not who knows it. I have been a great fool, and I suppose I shall continue one to the end.”
“No, don't!” cried Hartley, advancing towards him, and regarding him very earnestly. “Don't commit any more folly. Perhaps I have a right to advise you.”
“You have, Hartley. I fully recognise it,” replied Chetwynd, taking his hand “You saved my life. Whatever you advise me to do, I will do!”
“Then, go back to your friends,” said Hartley. “That's my advice.”
“And mine,” said Tankard.
“And mine, too,” added Higgins. “I shall be sorry to lose you; but that's of no consequence.”
“Hartley,” said Chetwynd, clapping him in a friendly manner on the shoulder, “you have decided me. I'll go back at once with Sir Bridgnorth.”
“That's right, sir—that's right!” replied the other.
“I owe you a large debt,” continued Chetwynd. “But I'll not fail to pay it.”
“You owe me nothing, sir,” rejoined Hartley.
“Yes, I do,” replied Chetwynd, earnestly; “more than I can ever pay.”
He then shook hands with the others, and, taking the hat and valise which Tankard brought for him, bade them all three farewell, and quitted the shop with Sir Bridgnorth and Mr. Carteret.
THE END OF THE THIRD BOOK
BOOK THE FOURTH—PROBATION.
I. THE FIRST STEP.
|We will now return to Brackley Hall, where we shall find the two young ladies.
They were still in a great state of uncertainty in regard to Chetwynd, though Sir Bridgnorth had written them a letter calculated, in some degree, to relieve their anxiety.
Of the two, Emmeline seemed to suffer most—probably because her temperament was more vivacious than Mildred's; but it is certain that the feelings she had formerly entertained for the inconstant Chetwynd had completely revived, if not become intensified.
Mildred, as we have shown, was strongly attached to her brother, and her affection for him remained undiminished, but constant and sad disappointment had taught her to control her emotions. She did not say so to Emmeline, but she scarcely hoped to behold him again.
Mrs. Calverley was at Ouselcroft, but she drove over almost every day in the pony phaeton, and remained for an hour or two.
As to Lady Barfleur, she had been almost entirely confined to her room since Sir Leycester's death.
Things were in this state at Brackley Hall, when one morning, about an hour after breakfast, the two girls went out into the garden. They were in an uneasy and excited state, but the soft air and the fragrance of the flowers soothed them.
That morning's post had brought Mildred a brief letter from Sir Bridgnorth Charlton. It contained only a few words, but they stimulated curiosity and raised hopes.
“To-morrow, I shall send a messenger to you with some important intelligence. Expect him soon after the receipt of this letter.
“B. C.”
They had been in the garden some little time, and were slowly returning towards the house, when they saw a tall figure, dressed in black, crossing the moat.
Evidently, it was the messenger from Sir Bridgnorth, as they had given orders that he should be sent out to them.
But who was he? Could it be Chetwynd in person? Not a doubt about it.
On making this discovery, Mildred uttered a slight cry, and flying to meet her brother, was clasped in his arms.
Emmeline stood still, and placed her hand upon her heart to check its palpitations.
In another minute, Mildred disengaged herself from her brother's embrace, and without stopping to make any inquiries, and scarcely to exchange a word of greeting, led him towards Emmeline.
As he approached, Emmeline became pale as death, and felt as if she should sink to the ground; but she sustained herself by a great effort.
She thought him changed. He had a careworn look, and his features were sharper; but he was still very handsome—and, perhaps, he had more interest for her, looking thus, than if he had appeared full of health and spirits.
He raised his hat as he drew near, and took the hand she offered him, but did not venture to address her till she spoke.
“I am truly glad to see you again, Chetwynd,” she said, in kind but tremulous accents. “We have been very, very anxious about you.”
Having called him “Chetwynd” formerly, she did not hesitate to do so now. It is impossible to describe how much he felt her kindness. But he did not presume upon it, and scarcely dared to lift his eyes towards her.
“I should not have ventured to present myself to you, Miss Barfleur,” he said, “after my unpardonable conduct, had I not been strongly urged to do so by Sir Bridgnorth Charlton, who told me you were good enough to still take an interest in me. I felt that I must have for ever forfeited your good opinion.”
“Not for ever,” she replied.
“I must go through a long period of probation ere I can hope to regain it,” he rejoined. “I do not wish to make professions which you might naturally discredit, but I intend henceforward to become a very different man.”
“It rejoices me to find you have formed such a praiseworthy resolution, dearest Chetwynd,” said his sister.
“I have had a very serious conversation with Sir Bridgnorth,” he replied, “and what he said to me carried conviction with it. I am determined to reform. As I have just stated, I do not expect you to believe in the sincerity of my repentance till I have proved it. It may be no easy task to change one's nature, to curb a hasty temper, and check a propensity to folly and extravagance; but I have promised to do it, and I will keep my word at any cost.”
“I am sure you will,” said Emmeline, “and the cost will be far less than you expect.”
“But you must begin to reform at once,” said Mildred.
“I have already begun,” said Chetwynd. “Had I not done so, I should not be here. This is my first step, and it will lead to all the rest.”
“But why should coming here be part of your probation?” asked Emmeline.
“You know not what I felt at the idea of appearing before you,” he replied; “and had you treated me with scorn and contempt, it would only have been what I deserved. Blinded by the charms of an artful and deceitful woman, I threw away such a chance as rarely has fallen to the lot of man; but when I recovered my senses, I comprehended what I had lost. Bitterly did I reproach myself—but it was then too late to repair my error, or at least I thought so—and the sense of my folly drove me almost mad. I will not attempt to exculpate myself. My faults are inexcusable. But this is their explanation. Had it not, been for Sir Bridgnorth's encouragement I should not be here.”
“On all accounts, I am glad you have come,” replied Emmeline. “I do not doubt what you tell me. Pass through the period of probation, and you may be fully restored to favour.”
“How long a period do you enjoin?” he inquired, anxiously.
“A year,” she replied.
“'Tis not too much,” said Mildred.
“I am content,” he answered. “Nay, more, I am deeply grateful.”
“But you must likewise obey my commands—however hard they may seem,” said Emmeline.
“I will cheerfully obey them all,” he replied.
“Then the first injunction I lay upon you is to become immediately reconciled to your stepmother.”
“Ah!” he exclaimed.
“Do you refuse?”
“No,” he replied. “You could not have imposed a harder condition. Nevertheless, I will obey you.”
“In all sincerity?”
“I promise to forgive her—if I can. At any rate, I will manifest no more resentment.”
“But accept your allowance like a rational being,” said Mildred.
“Yes; Sir Bridgnorth and Mr. Carteret have argued me out of my scruples.”
“I am truly glad to hear it,” said Mildred. “This is, indeed, a point gained.”
“Mrs. Calverley generally drives over to luncheon,” observed Emmeline. “I dare say she has arrived. Come and see her at once.”
Chetwynd made no objection, and they proceeded to the house.
II. THE SECOND ORDEAL.
|Mrs. Calverley had arrived, and they found her in the drawing-room.
She appeared greatly surprised at the sight of Chetwynd, and perhaps not altogether pleased, but she quickly recovered herself, and greeted him in a friendly manner.
Certainly, she did not expect it, but he immediately stepped forward, and, for the first time for a lengthened period, shook hands with her.
“Let there be peace between us,” he said.
“Willingly,” she replied. “I never sought a quarrel with you, Chetwynd, and since you desire a reconciliation, I gladly agree to it. I am anxious to forget the past.”
“You are very kind, madam,” he replied. “I frankly own I have been much to blame, and have no right to expect your forgiveness.”
“After this admission on your part, there is an end of all misunderstanding between us,” said Mrs. Calverley. “Some painful, but clearly groundless, rumours having reached me,” she added, “I must say that I am truly rejoiced to see you again.”
“I have reason to thank Heaven, madam,” he replied, gravely, “that I am still alive. But I ought still more to be thankful that my sentiments are changed. All my vindictive feelings are gone.”
“Yes, I can answer for it, that my dear brother is now in a very proper frame of mind,” observed Mildred, in a low tone.
Mrs. Calverley seemed much relieved by the assurance.
“Where are you staying, Chetwynd?” she inquired.
“With Sir Bridgnorth Charlton,” he replied. “I rode over from Charlton Park this morning. I owe a large debt of gratitude to Sir Bridgnorth. He has behaved like a father to me, and has extricated me from all my difficulties. Without him, I know not what I might have become. Now the world is once more open to me.”
“Dearest brother,” exclaimed Mildred, “how thankful I am you have found such a friend!”
“I have found other friends, though in a very different sphere of life, who have rendered me great service, and shown me much kindness,” he replied; “and I should be ungrateful indeed if I did not acknowledge my obligations to them. One day you shall know all, and then you will admit that poor men have as good hearts as their richer brethren. But for one of my humble friends I should not be here now.”
Some bright eyes were dimmed at this remark, and a momentary silence ensued.
It was broken by Mrs. Calverley, who said, in a kindly tone:
“I hope you mean to make Ouselcroft your home, Chetwynd?”
“I shall be delighted to do so, since you are kind enough to ask me, madam,” he replied. “I shall not give you much trouble, for I propose to live very quietly.”
“Don't mistake me,” she rejoined. “The house will be as much your own as during your father's lifetime. Come and go as you please. Your friends will always be welcome. In a word, do just as you like, and don't imagine I shall be any restraint upon you.”
“You are too kind, madam,” he rejoined, somewhat confused.
“I desire to meet you in the same spirit in which you have come to me,” she said. “Now I hope you understand me.”
“I do, madam, and I will avail myself of your offer, In a day or two I will again take possession of my old room.”
“It has always been kept for you, as you will find; but you shall have any other room you may prefer.”
“None can suit me so well as that. And since you permit me to ask my friends, I will mention a gentleman I have just met at Charlton, as I feel sure he will be agreeable to you.”
“Do I know him?”
“Perfectly—Captain Danvers. I will bring him with me, if you have no objection.”
“Do so, by all means,” she replied. “I shall be delighted to see him, and so, I am sure, will Mildred.”
“Yes; he is very amusing,” said that young lady.
“Captain Danvers is my cousin, and a great favourite of mine as well,” observed Emmeline. “I am glad you have formed his acquaintance; and I am sure you will like him.”
Luncheon being announced at this moment, they repaired to the dining-room, where they found Lady Barfleur, who had come down-stairs for the first time since the day of Sir Leycester's interment.
Being strongly prejudiced against Chetwynd, she received him very coldly, and as she could be very rude when she pleased, she made several very unpleasant observations in his hearing, greatly to Emmeline's annoyance.
“I didn't expect to see your brother here,” she remarked to Mildred. “I fancied he had got into some fresh scrape, worse than any of the others.”
“Oh! no,” cried Mildred, almost indignantly. “He has got out of all his difficulties.”
“Since when?” asked Lady Barfleur, dryly.
Mildred made no reply.
“What is he going to do now, may I ask?” pursued her ladyship.
“Coming to reside with mamma, at Ouselcroft,” replied Mildred.
“Oh! she is good enough to take him back again, eh?” observed Lady Barfleur. “Well, she is very forgiving, I must say.”
“Mamma!” exclaimed Emmeline, reproachfully, and trying to check her.
“Nay, I meant nothing,” muttered her ladyship. “It is her own concern, not mine. I have no right to interfere.”
“I shall be greatly pleased to have him with me again—that is all I can say,” observed Mrs. Calverley, rather offended, for she felt the matter was carried somewhat too far for Chetwynd's patience, and dreaded an outbreak.
Happily, none occurred. Chetwynd could not fail to hear all that was said, but appeared calm and indifferent.
Lady Barfleur, however, had not yet exhausted all her displeasure.
“What is he going to do?” she asked, after a pause. “I suppose he has nothing.”
Mrs. Calverley smiled.
“Your ladyship is entirely mistaken,” she said. “He has a very fair income, and,” she added, with some significance, “extremely good expectations. You may trust me on this point.”
“Of course,” replied Lady Barfleur. “But allow me to say I was under a very different impression.”
That Chetwynd felt highly indignant at this discussion in his presence, is certain, but he allowed no symptom of anger to appear. On the contrary, he seemed perfectly indifferent.
Emmeline was very anxious, fearing that his visits in future to the house might be interdicted. But she was needlessly alarmed, as it turned out.
Chetwynd's unwonted self-control served him well. Lady Barfleur began to relent, and to view him in a more favourable light. She made no more rude remarks; indeed, she seemed rather inclined to be friendly towards him; and he so gained upon her by his tact and good nature that, before luncheon was ended, she observed, in an audible whisper, to Mrs. Calverley:
“Upon my word, I must say Chetwynd is vastly improved!” And, to Emmeline's infinite delight, she added, “I shall be very happy to see him at Brackley whenever he likes to come over.”
The two girls exchanged a look.
“I think he'll do now,” whispered Mildred. “He has got through this ordeal remarkably well.”
III. THE RETURN TO OUSELCROFT.
|Three days afterwards, Chetwynd, accompanied by Captain Danvers, came to Ouselcroft.
Mrs. Calverley, who seemed to have buried her former quarrels in oblivion, gave him a very hearty welcome, and was particularly civil to Captain Danvers. Mildred had returned on the previous day, bringing Emmeline with her—so there was quite a little party in the house.
Everything look bright and cheerful, and Chetwynd was received like the prodigal son.
All the household appeared delighted to see him again, and old Norris declared it was the happiest day of his life. They all thought him changed, and that his manner was much more sedate than it used to be—the general impression being that he was greatly improved.
On entering the hall he stood still for a moment, and as he gazed around a singular and indefinable expression crossed his countenance. But it passed away quickly, and was succeeded by the grave composure that now habitually distinguished him.
The look, however, had not been unnoticed by Norris, who was close beside him, watching him anxiously, and made the old butler think he was acting a part.
But it was in his own chamber, where no one could observe him, that Chetwynd gave utterance to a few words that revealed the secret of his breast.
“Once more I am in my father's house,” he murmured; “and I will never quit it till I penetrate the mysteries it hides. At length I have learned to dissemble, and my purpose shall not be thwarted by haste or imprudence. The part is hateful to me, but I will play it, and with care. My former want of caution will avert suspicion from my design. I will not even make old Norris my confidant.”
He remained for some time in his room, occupied by a variety of reflections, until at last he was disturbed by a tap at the door, and on opening it, Norris came in.
Evidently, from his manner, he expected that Chet-wynd would make him the depositary of some secret, but he was disappointed.
“Whatever may be your motive in coming back, I think you have acted most judiciously,” he said; “and I am truly glad to find that a complete reconciliation has taken place between you and Mrs. Calverley, though I own I never expected it.”
“Yes, Norris,” replied Chetwynd. “We have become really friends. At one time I never supposed it would be so, as you are well aware. But strange things happen. I am very much changed since you saw me last.”
“Well, I own you are changed, sir; but for the better—very much improved. I hope you mean to reside here altogether now?”
“I do, Norris. Mrs. Calverley has behaved with great kindness to me—with great generosity, I may say—and the animosity I felt towards her has been completely extinguished in consequence. She has asked me to make Ouselcroft again my home. I have accepted the offer, and here I shall remain!”
“It would have been very unwise to refuse the offer, sir,” said Norris. “But are you convinced of her sincerity?”
“I cannot doubt it, after such proofs as she has given me. I only wonder she has shown so much forgiveness. But she shall have nothing to complain of in future.”
“I approve of your determination, sir. Let bygones be bygones!”
Norris was completely puzzled.
He did not believe in the reality of the reconciliation, either on one side or the other. But he saw plainly enough there would be a suspension of hostilities.
Obviously, it was greatly to Chetwynd's interest to yield to his step-mother; but hitherto, the step-son had proved so obstinate, that any arrangement seemed impracticable. On the other hand, Norris had believed that Mrs. Calverley harboured great resentment against him; but now she seemed suddenly to have forgiven him.
Were they deceiving each other. He thought so.
IV. WHICH OF THE TWO?
|Captain Danvers had never before been to Ouselcroft, and was charmed with the place.
The house was admirably kept up, and the garden in beautiful order. Mrs. Calverley had received him in the most flattering manner; and he had found Mildred there, and his cousin Emmeline. Chetwynd had promised him a pleasant visit, and he felt sure it would turn out so. What can offer greater attractions than an agreeable country house, with two or three lovely inmates?
Captain Danvers had not quite made up his mind whether he preferred the wealthy young widow or her pretty step-daughter.
There were reasons that inclined him to turn his thoughts exclusively to Mrs. Calverley, but Mildred's image would not be dismissed. He fancied he should be able to decide during his stay at Ouselcroft; but it was not an easy matter, as he found out.
Possibly in accordance with some plan he had formed, Captain Danvers devoted himself on the day of his arrival to Mrs. Calverley.
Next day, he seemed inclined to go over to Mildred, but she did not give him so much encouragement as she had done at Brackley; and piqued by her indifference, he sought by every means to regain the ground he had apparently lost, and succeeded.
But Mrs. Calverley resented the neglect, and treated him coldly in her turn. He seemed, therefore, in danger of losing the grand prize. Though he found it next to impossible to go on with both, he was unwilling to give up either.
He then put the momentous question to himself—to which of the two should he propose?
Clearly Mrs. Calverley would be by far the most advantageous match, in a pecuniary point of view; and being greatly governed by selfish considerations, he inclined towards her.
Still, he was really in love with Mildred, and the thought of losing her was more than he could bear.
On reflection, he found he had put a question to himself that he could not answer.
That very morning an opportunity offered for saying a tender word to Mildred; but his courage failed him. Loving her as he did, and feeling sure she loved him in return, he hesitated to commit himself.
They were walking in the garden, and the animated conversation with which they had commenced had gradually died away, and was succeeded by a silence that was almost embarrassing.
Clearly the moment had arrived. What could he do?—what say? He took her hand. She did not withdraw it, and he pressed it to his lips; but, oh, disgrace to manhood! no word was uttered. He heaved a deep sigh—that was all.
It was almost a relief to him when Mrs. Calverley and Emmeline were seen approaching.
“How provoking!” exclaimed the captain, who, however, was secretly pleased by the interruption.
Had he thought proper, he might have moved on; but instead of doing so, he turned round and met those who were coming towards them.
Mrs. Calverley, who had very quick sight, had seen what took place, but did not of course make the slightest remark until she found herself shortly afterwards tête-à-tête with the captain, the others having walked on.
“I think I explained to you, Captain Danvers, what my intentions are in regard to Mildred?” she said.
“Yes, I perfectly recollect,” he replied. “You said you meant to give her a marriage portion of thirty thousand pounds; and I thought it exceedingly handsome.”
“But you did not quite understand me, I fancy,” said Mrs Calverley, regarding him steadfastly. “I ought to have added that she will have this sum on her marriage, provided I approve of her choice.”
“Ah! that proviso makes all the difference!” exclaimed the captain. “The money may not be given, after all.”
“I shall never withhold it unless I see some decided objection to the match,” she rejoined. “Think over what I have told you.”
No more was said; but the caution thus given him produced the effect intended on Captain Danvers. He saw that Mildred was completely in her step-mother's power, and that the latter would do nothing if offended.
He now rejoiced that he had not made a positive proposal, as he would then have been compelled to take the fair girl without a portion, and he was not disinterested enough to do that.
However, he put the best face he could on the matter, and said:
“I am obliged to you for the information you have given me. Had I meant to propose to Miss Calverley, it would not have deterred me; but I have no such intention.”
“And you expect me to believe this after what I beheld just now?” said Mrs. Calverley, incredulously.
“I expect you to believe what I tell you,” rejoined the captain rather haughtily. “And I again assert that I have not proposed to her.”
“I am glad to hear it. It would have pained me to do a disagreeable thing.”
“But you would have done it?”
“Undoubtedly. However, since you give me this assurance, I need say no more.”
Later on in the day, Chetwynd and Captain Danvers were smoking a cigar in the dressing-room of the former, when the captain broached a subject on which he had been ruminating.
“Chetwynd, old boy,” he said, “I want to ask you a question. Don't think me impertinent; but I should like to know whether it is true that Mrs. Calverley has the entire control of your sister's fortune?”
“I'll answer the question frankly,” replied Chetwynd. “She has. My father, as you may be aware, made an extraordinary will, and it was the strange disposition of his property that caused the quarrel between myself and my step-mother. You talk of my sister's fortune. Properly speaking, she has none. She has a handsome allowance from Mrs. Calverley, who always declares she will give her a portion of thirty thousand pounds on her marriage.”
“Provided she approves of her choice—is not that a condition?” said the captain.
“Yes; but it means nothing.”
“Pardon me. I think it means a great deal. It might cause a match to be broken off.”
“It might, certainly, if acted upon. But Mrs. Calverley is very much attached to my sister, and will never oppose her choice. At least I fancy not.”
“I have reason to believe otherwise, my dear Chetwynd. She has already given me a pretty strong hint!”
“Have you said anything to her about Mildred?”
“No; but she has spoken to me, and has clearly intimated that I am not the man of her choice. Were I to be accepted, depend upon it, Mildred would have no portion.”
“You think so?”
“I'm sure of it. Can you help me?”
“I don't see how. I have no influence over Mrs. Calverley, and am determined not to meddle in any family matters. Besides, I should do no good. But I don't think there is any real ground for apprehension. As I have just said, she is extremely fond of Mildred, and if she felt my sister's happiness were at stake, she wouldn't interfere with any engagement she might form. I am certain of that. Though I cannot aid you, I will tell you who can, and most efficiently—your cousin, Emmeline Barfleur. I wonder she has not occurred to you.”
“My dear fellow, I have had no time for consideration,” rejoined the captain. “I have only just received this obliging hint from Mrs. Calverley. But I entirely agree with you. Emmeline is the person of all others who can aid me. Let us go and look for her at once. Most likely we shall find her in the garden, for they are not driving out this afternoon.”
Chetwynd assented; so they flung away their cigars, and went downstairs.