A Heart-Song of To-day (Disturbed by Fire from the 'Unruly Member'): A Novel
"Yes, there are many bankrupts on your hands, Vaura. I'm beginning to
think you've no heart, that's why the mowing business is done," said
Roland, half jestingly.
"Happy thought, my dearest boy; at my birth, Cupid, being short of
hearts, sent word by Mercury that Vaura Vernon would have to go
without, until such time in her life as she was able to win the hearts
of some half dozen men; as it would take so many to make a good-sized
womanly organ called a heart. Mercury further said I must send so many
men away heartless, I would suddenly find myself in possession, of
that lovable piece of palpitation; I would then find that piece of
feminine sighs too much for me, and would immediately exchange it for
a manly one; so you, see, Roland, I cannot have worked enough yet with
the agricultural implement; it's hard lines, you cruel boy, and you
only jest about, the mower," this she said in mock earnest tones; and
continued laughingly, "but then, I shall love only one; now, it is
awfully pleasant to love you all."
"From all I hear at home and abroad the mower has been in sure hands,"
remarked Bertram smilingly.
"Dame Rumour hath many ears to fill," replied Vaura.
"By the way, Vaura, did Sir Tilton Everly say the Haughtons took the
10.30?" asked Lady Esmondet.
"Yes, Dover has been deserted for Surrey; and the untiring little,
baronet follows in a month, and confided to me that he would be at my
uncle's to welcome us."
"The plot thickens," laughed Roland.
"But Roland Douglas," said Lady Esmondet, "he should be there; he
belongs, in some sort of way, to the wife of the Lord of the Manor, in
a 'do-as-I-bid-you' kind of way; in their relations towards each
other, one sees the advertisement for a person to 'make himself
generally useful,' clearly defined; fashionable women of to-day affect
such relations with men, and I suppose it is all right, as fashion has
made it orthodox.'"
"We find it a too pleasant fashion to object to it," answered Bertram;
"still rumour has it that Mrs. Haughton has been a great flirt, and if
I were in Haughton's shoes, I should turn the cold shoulder to this
Everly, or any other man; should they stay much at the Hall, time may,
with the ponderous hospitalities of the county, hang heavy to one who
has lived at New York pace, and just for pastime, she may flirt."
"I should think no woman married to Col. Haughton could, or would,
think to kill time with any other man," said Vaura, warmly, a slight
curl on her perfect lips.
"Bravo, Vaura," said her godmother; "a woman is of very slight value
if, when she marry a man worth going to the altar with, she, after a
few moons wane, looks about like Moore's 'Lesbia,' for some one to
keep _ennui_ at bay."
"Hear, hear," said Bertram; "but to-day we have so many marriages of
convenience that the society of some affinity is sought for
distraction's sake."
"It's awfully nice to have an affinity for some one else's wife; but,
by Jove," said Douglas, "if I were married, and caught a fellow
hanging about my wife, I'd just want to handle one of Vulcan's
heaviest, and tap him on the head."
"Spoken like a Briton on his preserves," laughed Vaura.
"How these fellows without an income manage to keep to the front is
more than I can tell," said Douglas; "now, this Everly, though he
doesn't exactly wax fat and shine, he isn't one of the lean kine
either."
"I bet my life," said Bertram, "he is angling in his aunt's flower
garden for a gold-fish."
"A boarding school would be a good field," said Lady Esmondet.
"Just the spot," cried Douglas; "and the gilded fair who would pay his
debts would win all the school prices from the gushing aunts."
"I read," said Bertram, "the other day, a good story in the _Scottish
American_, entitled 'Endless Gold.' A fellow, Brown hadn't a _sou_,
but always declared he would win an heiress; his friends laughed at
him; but one evening, on a great cotton lord, Sir Calico Twill, making
a speech, he put in 'hear, hear' at the right time. The old man,
pleased, invited him home to supper; there he met his heiress, fell in
love (to make a long story short), proposed, and was referred to
papa."
"'What is your fortune?'" enquired the pater.
"'Well, I don't exactly know,' said Brown; being uncertain whether it
was a three-penny or four-penny bit under his tobacco jar. 'But, give
me your daughter, and I promise she shall have endless gold.'
"'Come, don't exaggerate, Brown,'" said the tickled Twill.
"'Scarcely in my case,' said Brown; 'as be we ever so extravagant, we
should never be able to set through it.'"
"'Are you telling me truth?'
"'Truth; I swear it.'
"'Then take her, my boy, and her eight thousand a year; how pleased I
am she has been saved from fortune-hunters.'
"They were married; Brown made the money fly; bills came in. Scene:
Sir Calico in a rage.
"'Where is the endless gold you promised?'
"'Here,' said Brown, coolly, taking his wife's hand and showing her
wedding-ring; 'and what just fits one of my Wife's taper fingers I am
quite sure we could never get through.'"
"'There is one thing in our favour, papa,' said his daughter; 'no one
can say I have married a fool.'"
"Not bad," laughed Douglas.
"Henceforth," said Vaura, merrily, "I shall, in imagination, see small
Everly and his kind labelled 'Endless Gold.'"
"That little Tompkins will be in the market again this coming season,"
said Bertram; "I wonder who the successful angler will be."
"Unhappy heiresses," said Douglas, mockingly; "Cupid's darts are not
for thee."
"Thank heaven," said Vaura; "the man who takes my hand for the walk
through life will not take it for the gold he will find in its palm."
"The knowledge that the soft hand in his was his own," said Bertram,
"would so fill him with ecstacy, with one look at the face, that the
precious metal would be only in his thoughts as a setting for the
pearl he had won."
"Bravo, Bertram," said Douglas.
"_Merci_, Monsieur," said Vaura, smiling; "you flatter my poor charms;
but we cannot deceive ourselves; this is, as Mark Twain says, the
'gilded age,' and in going to the altar one of the two must have the
yellow sovereign."
"Yes, Vaura, you are right; one or other, it matters not, must have a
full hand," said her godmother.
CHAPTER XII.
SOARING!--THENCE TO THINGS OF EARTH.
"By the way, Roland, _cher garcon_ have your people yet returned to
Surrey?" enquired Vaura.
"The first detachment, consisting of the governor, with mother, now
delight the flock with their presence; and the paters, pipe, flock and
sermons again occupy his attention. The damsel Isabel is still at
Paris, whither yours truly is journeying to carry the child home to
our parents."
"I suppose Robert is still at Oxford?" said Lady Esmondet.
"No, at Rome; by the way, you and Vaura will see him; he is incumbent
of St. Augustine's."
"How strange it will be to see my old playmate (sad, wound up in
himself kind of boy he was) doing clergyman's duty," said Vaura.
"You should have heard," said Douglas, eagerly, "the pitched battles
he and I fought at vacation over the vexed question of High and Low
Church. I just went for him; and anyone overhearing would have thought
me an itinerant pedlar of theology--in the vulgar tongue, street
preacher--scorning all form as Papal; one would have thought me
encased in Gladstonian armour of Disestablishment, to have heard my
harangue. Poor Bob; in vain he expatiated on the glories of the
ancient fathers; in vain he took all the saints out for an airing; in
vain he talked of the ritual coming to us from the Jews of old; in
vain he asserted that Ritualism had brought life and vigour into a
slumbering church; in vain he talked of the old fox-hunting clergy; in
vain he talked of what a glorious thing for our church to give in a
little, and Rome to give in less; of how union would be strength, and
of the brave front we would show to all Christendom; of all we could
do in stamping out infidelity and rationalism; in fact, he was
sanguine of taking in everybody; all dissenters were to join us _en
masse_. Upon my word, Bob was eloquent; I assure you, he was so
enthusiastic, that in my mind's eye I saw the whole human family--
black, white, and copper-coloured, London belles and factory girls,
swells and sweeps--all with one voice singing the most pronounced of
High Church hymns, a cross in every hand, and all clothed, not by
Worth or a London tailor, but in the garb of monk and nun. His
earnestness so carried me away that I did not awake to myself and
things of earth until I felt the pins sticking into my flesh under my
monkish robe. I then thought it time to don the armour of the Low
Churchman, and come to the rescue of the human family, engaged,
clothed and ornamented as above. So, to slaughter the vision, I fell
to by telling him he belonged to the Anglo-Catholics; was as one with
the Greek Catholics, and any liberal Catholics in the Latin Church who
did not accept extreme Roman Catholic views."
"And what answer did you receive from Father Douglas?" enquired
Bertram; "did he acknowledge the truth of your charge?"
"Yes, by Jove, he did; he acknowledged that the union of the Anglican
with the Roman communion was the dearest wish of his heart; that he
would strain every nerve in the struggle to bring about its
fulfilment; that though, no doubt, infidelity was making rapid
strides, still churchmen generally united in thinking that before
long, and for the common good, petty differences would be sunk in the
grand magnitude of the act of the union of the churches, when
infidelity would be drowned in the waves of truth."
"And a grand, majestic scheme," said Vaura; "but we are too
easy-going in our religious paces to carry it out; to be sure, we all
go to church to-day; but why? Because, forsooth, it is respectable and
fashionable. But, I believe that where the ceremonial is conducted in
the most imposing manner--and the worship of the King of Kings could
not be conducted with too much splendour--that there, we gay
butterflies of to-day, are compelled to think of whose presence we are
in, are awed into the thought of whose honour all this is done in.
Yes, one there has other thoughts than one's neighbour's _tout
ensemble_."
"There is something in what you and Robert say, Vaura," said her
godmother; "but, to tell the truth, I bother myself very little as to
our church differences. Disestablishment, by Hon. Gladstone, is a real
unrest to me."
"Oh, I don't know; let it stand or fall by its own merit," said
Douglas.
"Yes, I go with Gladstone," cried Bertram; "that 'stand and deliver'
tithe business has given the church a bad odour in the nostrils of
dissenters."
"Still, I fear, should we sever Church and State," said Vaura, "that
other old institutions will topple over. Events seem every day to be
educating us up to preparing us for greater changes than
disestablishment. 'Tis, indeed, 'a parting of the ways.' The Church
Established seemed a strong wall or fortress supporting other (some
would say) old fancies. I must confess in this, our very pleasant age
of novelties, I like to know there is something old still in its niche
of time."
"Yes, I see; I must now sing a requiem over the departing forms of
Miss Vernon and Father Douglas, as they pass into the arms of Pope
Pius at Rome," said Roland, jestingly.
"Not over me, my dear boy; I am too comfortable where I am. I expect
you, Mr. Bertram, are this moment wondering that a woman of to-day can
interest herself in anything so old as the Church; but methinks even
the butterfly (that we are named after) is in a quieter mood when the
sun is behind a cloud, and he cannot see the beauteous flowers; we,
too, have our dreamy quiet."