Shirley
novel which Robert had lent her--elicited a simultaneous expression of
surprise from the lips of the four ladies.
"We were all there," said Miss Mary--"mamma and all of us. We even
persuaded papa to go. Hannah would insist upon it. But he fell asleep
while Mr. Langweilig, the German Moravian minister, was speaking. I felt
quite ashamed, he nodded so."
"And there was Dr. Broadbent," cried Hannah--"such a beautiful speaker!
You couldn't expect it of him, for he is almost a vulgar-looking man."
"But such a dear man," interrupted Mary.
"And such a good man, such a useful man," added her mother.
"Only like a butcher in appearance," interposed the fair, proud Harriet.
"I couldn't bear to look at him. I listened with my eyes shut."
Miss Helstone felt her ignorance and incompetency. Not having seen Dr.
Broadbent, she could not give her opinion. Pause third came on. During
its continuance, Caroline was feeling at her heart's core what a
dreaming fool she was, what an unpractical life she led, how little
fitness there was in her for ordinary intercourse with the ordinary
world. She was feeling how exclusively she had attached herself to the
white cottage in the Hollow, how in the existence of one inmate of that
cottage she had pent all her universe. She was sensible that this would
not do, and that some day she would be forced to make an alteration. It
could not be said that she exactly wished to resemble the ladies before
her, but she wished to become superior to her present self, so as to
feel less scared by their dignity.
The sole means she found of reviving the flagging discourse was by
asking them if they would all stay to tea; and a cruel struggle it cost
her to perform this piece of civility. Mrs. Sykes had begun, "We are
much obliged to you, but----" when in came Fanny once more.
"The gentlemen will stay the evening, ma'am," was the message she
brought from Mr. Helstone.
"What gentlemen have you?" now inquired Mrs. Sykes. Their names were
specified; she and her daughters interchanged glances. The curates were
not to them what they were to Caroline. Mr. Sweeting was quite a
favourite with them; even Mr. Malone rather so, because he was a
clergyman. "Really, since you have company already, I think we will
stay," remarked Mrs. Sykes. "We shall be quite a pleasant little party.
I always like to meet the clergy."
And now Caroline had to usher them upstairs, to help them to unshawl,
smooth their hair, and make themselves smart; to reconduct them to the
drawing-room, to distribute amongst them books of engravings, or odd
things purchased from the Jew-basket. She was obliged to be a purchaser,
though she was but a slack contributor; and if she had possessed plenty
of money, she would rather, when it was brought to the rectory--an awful
incubus!--have purchased the whole stock than contributed a single
pin-cushion.
It ought perhaps to be explained in passing, for the benefit of those
who are not _au fait_ to the mysteries of the "Jew-basket" and
"missionary-basket," that these _meubles_ are willow repositories, of
the capacity of a good-sized family clothes-basket, dedicated to the
purpose of conveying from house to house a monster collection of
pin-cushions, needle-books, card-racks, workbags, articles of infant
wear, etc., etc., etc., made by the willing or reluctant hands of the
Christian ladies of a parish, and sold perforce to the heathenish
gentlemen thereof, at prices unblushingly exorbitant. The proceeds of
such compulsory sales are applied to the conversion of the Jews, the
seeking up of the ten missing tribes, or to the regeneration of the
interesting coloured population of the globe. Each lady contributor
takes it in her turn to keep the basket a month, to sew for it, and to
foist off its contents on a shrinking male public. An exciting time it
is when that turn comes round. Some active-minded woman, with a good
trading spirit, like it, and enjoy exceedingly the fun of making
hard-handed worsted-spinners cash up, to the tune of four or five
hundred per cent. above cost price, for articles quite useless to them;
other feebler souls object to it, and would rather see the prince of
darkness himself at their door any morning than that phantom basket,
brought with "Mrs. Rouse's compliments; and please, ma'am, she says it's
your turn now."
Miss Helstone's duties of hostess performed, more anxiously than
cheerily, she betook herself to the kitchen, to hold a brief
privy-council with Fanny and Eliza about the tea.
"What a lot on 'em!" cried Eliza, who was cook. "And I put off the
baking to-day because I thought there would be bread plenty to fit while
morning. We shall never have enow."
"Are there any tea-cakes?" asked the young mistress.
"Only three and a loaf. I wish these fine folk would stay at home till
they're asked; and I want to finish trimming my hat" (bonnet she meant).
"Then," suggested Caroline, to whom the importance of the emergency gave
a certain energy, "Fanny must run down to Briarfield and buy some
muffins and crumpets and some biscuits. And don't be cross, Eliza; we
can't help it now."
"And which tea-things are we to have?"
"Oh, the best, I suppose. I'll get out the silver service." And she ran
upstairs to the plate-closet, and presently brought down teapot,
cream-ewer, and sugar-basin.
"And mun we have th' urn?"
"Yes; and now get it ready as quickly as you can, for the sooner we have
tea over the sooner they will go--at least, I hope so. Heigh-ho! I wish
they were gone," she sighed, as she returned to the drawing-room.
"Still," she thought, as she paused at the door ere opening it, "if
Robert would but come even now how bright all would be! How
comparatively easy the task of amusing these people if he were present!
There would be an interest in hearing him talk (though he never says
much in company) and in talking in his presence. There can be no
interest in hearing any of them, or in speaking to them. How they will
gabble when the curates come in, and how weary I shall grow with
listening to them! But I suppose I am a selfish fool. These are very
respectable gentlefolks. I ought, no doubt, to be proud of their
countenance. I don't say they are not as good as I am--far from it--but
they are different from me."
She went in.
Yorkshire people in those days took their tea round the table, sitting
well into it, with their knees duly introduced under the mahogany. It
was essential to have a multitude of plates of bread and butter, varied
in sorts and plentiful in quantity. It was thought proper, too, that on
the centre plate should stand a glass dish of marmalade. Among the
viands was expected to be found a small assortment of cheesecakes and
tarts. If there was also a plate of thin slices of pink ham garnished
with green parsley, so much the better.
Eliza, the rector's cook, fortunately knew her business as provider. She
had been put out of humour a little at first, when the invaders came so
unexpectedly in such strength; but it appeared that she regained her
cheerfulness with action, for in due time the tea was spread forth in
handsome style, and neither ham, tarts, nor marmalade were wanting among
its accompaniments.
The curates, summoned to this bounteous repast, entered joyous; but at
once, on seeing the ladies, of whose presence they had not been
forewarned, they came to a stand in the doorway. Malone headed the
party; he stopped short and fell back, almost capsizing Donne, who was
behind him. Donne, staggering three paces in retreat, sent little
Sweeting into the arms of old Helstone, who brought up the rear. There
was some expostulation, some tittering. Malone was desired to mind what
he was about, and urged to push forward, which at last he did, though
colouring to the top of his peaked forehead a bluish purple. Helstone,
advancing, set the shy curates aside, welcomed all his fair guests,
shook hands and passed a jest with each, and seated himself snugly
between the lovely Harriet and the dashing Hannah. Miss Mary he
requested to move to the seat opposite to him, that he might see her if
he couldn't be near her. Perfectly easy and gallant, in his way, were
his manners always to young ladies, and most popular was he amongst
them; yet at heart he neither respected nor liked the sex, and such of
them as circumstances had brought into intimate relation with him had
ever feared rather than loved him.
The curates were left to shift for themselves. Sweeting, who was the
least embarrassed of the three, took refuge beside Mrs. Sykes, who, he
knew, was almost as fond of him as if he had been her son. Donne, after
making his general bow with a grace all his own, and saying in a high,
pragmatical voice, "How d'ye do, Miss Helstone?" dropped into a seat at
Caroline's elbow, to her unmitigated annoyance, for she had a peculiar
antipathy to Donne, on account of his stultified and immovable
self-conceit and his incurable narrowness of mind. Malone, grinning most
unmeaningly, inducted himself into the corresponding seat on the other
side. She was thus blessed in a pair of supporters, neither of whom, she
knew, would be of any mortal use, whether for keeping up the
conversation, handing cups, circulating the muffins, or even lifting the
plate from the slop-basin. Little Sweeting, small and boyish as he was,
would have been worth twenty of them.
Malone, though a ceaseless talker when there were only men present, was
usually tongue-tied in the presence of ladies. Three phrases, however,
he had ready cut and dried, which he never failed to produce:--
1stly. "Have you had a walk to-day, Miss Helstone?"
2ndly. "Have you seen your cousin Moore lately?"
3rdly. "Does your class at the Sunday school keep up its number?"
These three questions being put and responded to, between Caroline and
Malone reigned silence.
With Donne it was otherwise; he was troublesome, exasperating. He had a
stock of small-talk on hand, at once the most trite and perverse that
can well be imagined--abuse of the people of Briarfield; of the natives
of Yorkshire generally; complaints of the want of high society; of the
backward state of civilization in these districts; murmurings against
the disrespectful conduct of the lower orders in the north toward their
betters; silly ridicule of the manner of living in these parts--the want
of style, the absence of elegance, as if he, Donne, had been accustomed
to very great doings indeed, an insinuation which his somewhat underbred
manner and aspect failed to bear out. These strictures, he seemed to
think, must raise him in the estimation of Miss Helstone or of any other
lady who heard him; whereas with her, at least, they brought him to a
level below contempt, though sometimes, indeed, they incensed her; for,
a Yorkshire girl herself, she hated to hear Yorkshire abused by such a
pitiful prater; and when wrought up to a certain pitch, she would turn
and say something of which neither the matter nor the manner recommended
her to Mr. Donne's good-will. She would tell him it was no proof of
refinement to be ever scolding others for vulgarity, and no sign of a
good pastor to be eternally censuring his flock. She would ask him what
he had entered the church for, since he complained there were only
cottages to visit, and poor people to preach to--whether he had been
ordained to the ministry merely to wear soft clothing and sit in king's
houses. These questions were considered by all the curates as, to the
last degree, audacious and impious.
Tea was a long time in progress; all the guests gabbled as their hostess
had expected they would. Mr. Helstone, being in excellent spirits--when,
indeed, was he ever otherwise in society, attractive female society? it
being only with the one lady of his own family that he maintained a grim