Love and Life: An Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume
good time, my dear. I must talk to your father.”
It was so much the custom to talk to young maidens about their marriage
that this did not greatly startle Aurelia, and Lady Belamour continued:
“There, child, you have done your duty well by those little plagues of
mine, and it is Mr. Wayland’s desire to make you a recompense. You may
need it in any change of circumstances.”
So saying, she placed in Aurelia’s hand five guineas, the largest sum
that the girl had ever owned; and as visions arose of Christmas gifts
to be bestowed, the thanks were so warm, the curtsey so expressively
graceful, the smile so bright, the soft eyes so sparkling, that the
great lady was touched at the sight of such simple-hearted joy, and
said, “There, there, child, that will do. I could envy one whom a little
makes so happy. Now you will be able to make yourself fine when my
son brings home his bride; or--who knows?--you may be a bride yourself
first!”
That sounds, thought Aurelia, as if Mr. Belamour had made her relinquish
the plan of that cruel marriage, for I am sure I have not yet seen the
man I am to marry.
And with a lighter heart the young tutoress stood between Fay and Letty
on the steps to see the departure, her cheeks still feeling Amoret’s
last fond kisses, and a swelling in her throat bringing tears to her
eyes at the thought how soon that carriage would be at Carminster. Yet
there were sweet chains in the little hands that held her gown, and in
the thought of the lonely old man who depended on her for enlivenment.
The day was long, for Amoret was missed; and the two children were
unusually fretful and quarrelsome without her, disputing over the
new toys which Brother Amyas’s guinea had furnished in demoralising
profusion. It was strange too see the difference made by the loss of the
child who would give up anything rather than meet a look of vexation,
and would coax the others into immediate good humour. There was
reaction, too, after the excitement, for which the inexperienced Aurelia
did not allow. At the twentieth bickering as to which doll should ride
on the spotted hobby-horse, the face of Letty’s painted wooden baby
received a scar, and Fay’s lost a leg, whereupon Aurelia’s endurance
entirely gave way, and she pronounced them both naughty children, and
sent them to bed before supper.
Then her heart smote her for unkindness, and she sat in the firelight
listless and sad, though she hardly knew why, longing to go up and pet
and comfort her charges, but withheld by the remembrance of Betty’s
assurances that leniency, in a like case, would be the ruin of Eugene.
At last Jumbo came to summon her, and hastily recalling a cheerful air,
she entered the room with “Good evening, sir; you see I am still here to
trouble you.”
“I continue to profit by my gentle friend’s banishment. Tell me, was my
Lady in a gracious mood?”
“O sir, how beautiful she is, and how kind! I know now why my father was
so devoted to her, and no one can ever gainsay her!”
“The enchantress knows how to cast her spells. She was then friendly?”
“She gave me five guineas!” said Aurelia exultingly. “She said Mr.
Wayland wished to recompense me.”
“Did he so? If it came from him I should have expected a more liberal
sum.”
“But, oh!” in a tone of infinite surprise and content, “this is more
than I ever thought of. Indeed I never dreamt of her giving me anything.
Sir, may I write to your bookseller, Mr. Tonson, and order a book of Mr.
James Thomson’s _Seasons_ to give to my sister Harriet, who is delighted
with the extracts I have copied for her?”
“Will not that consume a large proportion of the five guineas, my
generous friend?”
“I have enough left. There is a new gown which I never have worn, which
will serve for the new clothes my Lady spoke of to receive her son’s
bride.”
“She entered on that subject then?”
“Only for a moment as she took leave. Oh, sir, is it possible that she
can know all about this young lady?”
“What have you heard of her?”
“Sir, they say she is a dreadful little vixen.”
“Who say? Is she known at Carminster?”
“No, sir,” said Aurelia, disconcerted. “It was from Nurse Dove that I
heard what Sir Amyas’s man said when he came back from Battlefield. I
know my sister would chide me for listening to servants.”
“Nevertheless I should be glad to hear. Was the servant old Grey? Then
he is to be depended on. What did he say?”
Aurelia needed little persuasion to tell all that she had heard from
Mrs. Dove, and he answered, “Thank you, my child, it tallies precisely
with what the poor boy himself told me.”
“Then he has told his mother? Will she not believe him?”
“It does not suit her to do so, and it is easy to say the girl will be
altered by going to a good school. In fact, there are many reasons more
powerful with her than the virtue and happiness of her son,” he added
bitterly. “There’s the connection, forsooth. As if Lady Aresfield were
fit to bring up an honest man’s wife; and there’s the fortune to fill up
the void she has made in the Delavie estates.”
“Can no one hinder it, sir? Cannot you?”
“As a last resource the poor youth came hither to see whether the
guardian whose wardship has hitherto been a dead letter, were indeed so
utterly obdurate and helpless as had been represented.”
“And you have the power?”
“So far as his father’s will and the injunctions of his final letter
to me can give it, I have full power. My consent is necessary to his
marriage while still a minor, and I have told my Lady I will never give
it to his wedding a Mar.”
“I was sure of it; and it is not true that they will be able to do
without it?
“Without it! Have you heard any more? You pause. I see--she wishes to
declare me of unsound mind. Is that what you mean?”
“So Nurse Dove said, sir,” faltered Aurelia; “but it seemed too wicked,
too monstrous, to be possible.”
“I understand,” he said. “I thought there was an implied threat in
my sweet sister-in-law’s soft voice when she spoke of my determined
misanthropy. Well, I think we can guard against that expedient. After
all, it is only till my nephew comes of age, or till his stepfather
returns, that we must keep the enchantress at bay. Then the poor lad
will be safe, providing always that she and her Colonel have not made a
rake of him by that time. Alas, what a wretch am I not to be able to do
more for him! Child, you have seen him?”
“I danced with him, sir, but I was too much terrified to look in his
face. And I saw his cocked hat over the thorn hedge.”
“Fancy free,” muttered Mr. Belamour. “Fair exile for a cocked hat and
diamond shoe-buckles! You would not recognise him again, nor his voice?”
“No, sir. He scarcely spoke, and I was attending to my steps.”
Mr. Belamour laughed, and then asked Aurelia for the passage in the
_Iliad_ where Venus carries off Paris in a cloud. He thanked her
somewhat absently, and then said,
“Dr. Godfrey said something of coming hither before he goes to his
living in Dorsetshire. May I ask of you the favour of writing and
begging him to fix a day not far off, mentioning likewise that my
sister-in-law has been here.”
To this invitation Dr. Godfrey replied that he would deviate from the
slow progress of his family coach, and ride to Bowstead, spending two
nights there the next week; and to Aurelia’s greater amazement, she
was next requested to write a billet to the Mistresses Treforth in Mr.
Belamour’s name, asking them to bestow their company on him for the
second evening of Dr. Godfrey’s visit.
“You, my kind friend, will do the honours,” he said, “and we will ask
Mrs. Aylward to provide the entertainment.”
“They will be quite propitiated by being asked to meet Dr. Godfrey,”
said Aurelia. “Shall you admit them, sir?”
“Certainly. You do not seem to find them very engaging company, but they
can scarce be worse than I should find in such an asylum as my charming
sister-in-law seems to have in preparation for me.”
“Oh! I wish I had said nothing about that. It is too shocking!”
“Forewarned, forearmed, as the proverb says. Do you not see, my amiable
friend, that we are providing a body of witnesses to the sanity of the
recluse, even though he may ‘in dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell’?”
The visit took place; Dr. Godfrey greeted Miss Delavie as an old
friend, and the next day pronounced Mr. Belamour to be so wonderfully
invigorated and animated, that he thought my Lady’s malignant plan was
really likely to prove the best possible stimulus and cure.
Then the Canon gratified the two old ladies by a morning call, dined
with Aurelia and her pupils, who behaved very well, and with whom he
afterwards played for a whole hour so kindly that they placed him second
in esteem to their big and beautiful brother. Mrs. Phoebe and Mrs. Delia
came dressed in the faded splendours of the Louis XIV. period, just at
twilight, and were regaled with coffee and pound cake. They were a good
deal subdued, though as Aurelia listened to the conversation, it was
plain enough what Mr. Belamour meant when he said that his cousin Delia
was something of the coquette.
Still they asked with evident awe if it were true that their unfortunate
cousin really intended to admit them, and they evidently became more and
more nervous while waiting for Jumbo’s summons. Dr. Godfrey gave his arm
to Mrs. Phoebe, and Mrs. Delia gripped hold of Aurelia’s, trembling all
over, declaring she felt ready to swoon, and marvelling how Miss Delavie
could ever have ventured, all alone too!
After all, things had been made much less formidable than at Aurelia’s
first introduction. The sitting-room was arranged as it was when Mr.
Greaves read prayers, with a very faint light from a shrouded lamp
behind the window curtain. To new comers it seemed pitchy darkness, but
to Aurelia and Dr. Godfrey it was a welcome change, allowing them at
least to perceive the forms of one another, and of the furniture. From
a blacker gulf, being the doorway to the inner room, came Mr. Belamour’s
courteous voice of greeting to his kinswomen, who were led up by their
respective guides to take his hand; after which he begged them to excuse
the darkness, since the least light was painful to him still. If they
would be seated he would remain where he was, and enjoy the society he
was again beginning to be able to appreciate. He was, in fact, sitting
within his own room, with eyes covered from even the feeble glimmer in
the outer room.
It was some minutes before they recovered their self-possession, but
Dr. Godfrey and Mr. Belamour began the conversation, and they gradually
joined in. It was chiefly full of reminiscences of the lively days
when Dr. Godfrey had been a young Cantab visiting his two friends at
Bowstead, and Phoebe and Delia were the belles of the village. Aurelia
scarcely opened her lips, but she was astonished to find how different
the two sisters could be from the censorious, contemptuous beings they
had seemed to her. The conversation lasted till supper-time, and Mr.
Belamour, as they took their leave, made them promise to come and see
him again. Then they were conducted back to the supper-room, Mrs. Phoebe
mysteriously asking “Is he always like this?”
The experiment had been a great success, and Aurelia completed it by
asking Mrs. Phoebe to take the head of the supper-table.
CHAPTER XVII. THE VICTIM DEMANDED.
And if thou sparest now to do this thing,
I will destroy thee and thy land also.--MORRIS.
“Well, sir, have you seen my Lady?”
“Not a year older than when I saw her last,” returned Major Delavie,
who had just dismounted from his trusty pony at his garden gate, and
accepted Betty’s arm; “and what think you?” he added, pausing that
Corporal Palmer might hear his news. “She has been at Bowstead, and