CHAPTER LIX.VANE TREVOR SEES MISS VIOLET.Next morning William was surprised by a visit from Vane Trevor.“Just dropped in to see how you are, old fellow, this morning.”“Very good of you,” rejoined William with ironical gravity.“Well, butareyou well—is there anything wrong?” inquired Vane, who was struck by his friend’s savage and distracted looks.“Nothing—I’m quite well; what could go wrong with a fellow so magnificently provided for? The Lord of Gilroyd, with such lots of small talk, and fine friends, and lavender gloves, and clothes cut so exquisitely in the fashion,” and William laughed rather horribly.“Well, I admit you might get better traps, and if you like decent clothes why the devil don’t you?”Trevor could perceive that the whole of William’s ironical sally was inspired by envy of him, and was gratified accordingly; and thought within himself, “Your shy, gawky, ill-dressed men always hate a jolly fellow with a good coat to his back just because the women know the difference, and I wonder where poor Maubrayhas been trying his arts and fascinations; he has been awfully shut up, that’s clear,” so thought Vane Trevor, as he added aloud—“If you’re going to London, as you say, I’ll give you a note with pleasure to my man, if you like the sort of things he makes,” said Trevor; “but I give you notice he won’t do his best unless you seem to take an interest, you know.”“Thanks—no,” laughed William, a little fiercely, “the tailor might do his office, but I should still want too many essentials. Where would be the good of that sort of thing without the rest, and I nevercouldgo the whole animal—the wholebrute, and if I could Iwouldnot. You may smile⸺”“I amnotsmiling.”“But I swear to you I wouldn’t.”“Oh, you’re very well,” said Trevor, encouragingly. “Quiet man. What good could that sort of thing do you at the bar, for instance? And whenyou’reLord Chancellor with your peerage and your fortune up in London, I shall be still plain Trevor of Revington down here, vegetating, by Jove!”“I’ll never bethat, but I may dosomegood—a little perhaps. Enough to interest me in life, and that’s all I want,” said William, who was fiercely resolved on celibacy.“I am going over to see the people at the Rectory—jolly old fellow old Wagget is; and I thought I’d just look in on you. You’re not for a walk, are you?”“No, thanks,” said William very shortly, and added, “I’m sorry I can’t, but I’ve letters this morning, and must be ready for the post.”“Well, good-bye then,” said Trevor, and shook hands like a man going a long journey; and William glancedin his eyes, and saw what he was about, and thought, “He’ll be sure to see her this morning.”So William took leave of him, and stood for a while in a troubled brown study on the steps, with a great weight at his heart, and after a while recollecting himself he said, “Pish! Pshaw!” and lifting his head defiantly, he strode into the parlour, and sat himself down grimly to write, but could not get on; and took a walk instead in the direction of the London railway, with his back to the Rectory and to Revington.Our friend Vane Trevor had made up his mind to see Miss Darkwell this day, and speak, and in fact arrange everything; and as usual the crisis being upon him his confidence in himself and his surroundings began to wane and he experienced the qualms of doubt, and the shiver of suspense. So, as there was usually between the prison and the gallows-tree a point at which the gentleman on the hurdle drew up and partook of a glass of something comfortable, Mr. Vane Trevor halted on his way at Gilroyd and had his word or two, and shake of the hand with William Maubray, and went on.On he went looking much as usual, except for a little pallor, but feeling strange sensations at his heart, and now and then rehearsing his speech, and more and more agitated inwardly as he drew near the door of the Rectory.It was early, but Miss Wagget and Miss Darkwell were at home, and Vane Trevor, wondering whether an opportunity would occur, crossed the hall and was announced.Miss Darkwell was sitting near a window copying music and he went over and shook hands, and felt very oddly; and after a word or two, she looked down again and resumed her work. Old Miss Wagget led the conversation,and begun with a speech on her flowers, and was eloquent in admiration and acknowledgments. Now, poor Miss Perfect had told Miss Wagget the whole story of the Revington courtship, and the rector’s sister had quite taken Aunt Dinah’s view of the case, and agreed that it was better the subject should be opened by the suitor himself; and, willing to make the opportunity desired at once, and dreaded, she recollected, on a sudden, that she had a word to say to her brother before he went out, and, with apologies, left the room and shut the door.Miss Violet raised her eyes and looked after her a little anxiously, as if she would have liked to stop her. I think the young lady guessed pretty well what was in Vane Trevor’s mind; but there was no averting the scene now, and she went on writing in a bar of crotchets in the treble, but placed the minim wrong in the bass.There was a silence, during which the little French clock over the chimney-piece ticked very loud, and Miss Wagget’s lapdog yawned and chose a new place on the hearthrug, and the young lady was looking more closely at her music, and, though with a little blush, very gravely industrious. Trevor looked through the window, and down at the dog, and round the room, and up at the clock, but for the life of him he could not think of anything to say. The silence was growing insupportable, and at last he stood up smiling the best he could, and drew near the window where Violet was sitting, and tapped his chin with his cane, and said:—“Music—a ha!—copying music!—I—I—a—I used to copy music pretty well; they said I did it uncommonly well; but I used to make those pops round like the copperplate, you know;youmake them oval. They have a bookful of my copying at Kincton. They said—Claradid—they could read it just like print—and—and I wish you could give me some employment that way—I really wish you would. I’m afraid you find it awfully slow—don’t you?”“No—thanks; no, indeed—I’m very much obliged though, but I ratherlikeit; I don’t think it tiresome work at all.”“I—I should so like—and I was so glad to hear from Miss Wagget that you thought the flowers pretty—yesterday, I mean. These are beginning to look a little seedy—aren’t they? I’ll send over more to-day—I only wish, Miss Darkwell, I knew your pet flowers, that I might send a lot of them—I—I assure you I do.”Miss Darkwell here looked closer at her work, and drew two parallel lines connecting the stems of her semiquavers very nicely.
CHAPTER LIX.
VANE TREVOR SEES MISS VIOLET.
VANE TREVOR SEES MISS VIOLET.
VANE TREVOR SEES MISS VIOLET.
Next morning William was surprised by a visit from Vane Trevor.
“Just dropped in to see how you are, old fellow, this morning.”
“Very good of you,” rejoined William with ironical gravity.
“Well, butareyou well—is there anything wrong?” inquired Vane, who was struck by his friend’s savage and distracted looks.
“Nothing—I’m quite well; what could go wrong with a fellow so magnificently provided for? The Lord of Gilroyd, with such lots of small talk, and fine friends, and lavender gloves, and clothes cut so exquisitely in the fashion,” and William laughed rather horribly.
“Well, I admit you might get better traps, and if you like decent clothes why the devil don’t you?”
Trevor could perceive that the whole of William’s ironical sally was inspired by envy of him, and was gratified accordingly; and thought within himself, “Your shy, gawky, ill-dressed men always hate a jolly fellow with a good coat to his back just because the women know the difference, and I wonder where poor Maubrayhas been trying his arts and fascinations; he has been awfully shut up, that’s clear,” so thought Vane Trevor, as he added aloud—
“If you’re going to London, as you say, I’ll give you a note with pleasure to my man, if you like the sort of things he makes,” said Trevor; “but I give you notice he won’t do his best unless you seem to take an interest, you know.”
“Thanks—no,” laughed William, a little fiercely, “the tailor might do his office, but I should still want too many essentials. Where would be the good of that sort of thing without the rest, and I nevercouldgo the whole animal—the wholebrute, and if I could Iwouldnot. You may smile⸺”
“I amnotsmiling.”
“But I swear to you I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, you’re very well,” said Trevor, encouragingly. “Quiet man. What good could that sort of thing do you at the bar, for instance? And whenyou’reLord Chancellor with your peerage and your fortune up in London, I shall be still plain Trevor of Revington down here, vegetating, by Jove!”
“I’ll never bethat, but I may dosomegood—a little perhaps. Enough to interest me in life, and that’s all I want,” said William, who was fiercely resolved on celibacy.
“I am going over to see the people at the Rectory—jolly old fellow old Wagget is; and I thought I’d just look in on you. You’re not for a walk, are you?”
“No, thanks,” said William very shortly, and added, “I’m sorry I can’t, but I’ve letters this morning, and must be ready for the post.”
“Well, good-bye then,” said Trevor, and shook hands like a man going a long journey; and William glancedin his eyes, and saw what he was about, and thought, “He’ll be sure to see her this morning.”
So William took leave of him, and stood for a while in a troubled brown study on the steps, with a great weight at his heart, and after a while recollecting himself he said, “Pish! Pshaw!” and lifting his head defiantly, he strode into the parlour, and sat himself down grimly to write, but could not get on; and took a walk instead in the direction of the London railway, with his back to the Rectory and to Revington.
Our friend Vane Trevor had made up his mind to see Miss Darkwell this day, and speak, and in fact arrange everything; and as usual the crisis being upon him his confidence in himself and his surroundings began to wane and he experienced the qualms of doubt, and the shiver of suspense. So, as there was usually between the prison and the gallows-tree a point at which the gentleman on the hurdle drew up and partook of a glass of something comfortable, Mr. Vane Trevor halted on his way at Gilroyd and had his word or two, and shake of the hand with William Maubray, and went on.
On he went looking much as usual, except for a little pallor, but feeling strange sensations at his heart, and now and then rehearsing his speech, and more and more agitated inwardly as he drew near the door of the Rectory.
It was early, but Miss Wagget and Miss Darkwell were at home, and Vane Trevor, wondering whether an opportunity would occur, crossed the hall and was announced.
Miss Darkwell was sitting near a window copying music and he went over and shook hands, and felt very oddly; and after a word or two, she looked down again and resumed her work. Old Miss Wagget led the conversation,and begun with a speech on her flowers, and was eloquent in admiration and acknowledgments. Now, poor Miss Perfect had told Miss Wagget the whole story of the Revington courtship, and the rector’s sister had quite taken Aunt Dinah’s view of the case, and agreed that it was better the subject should be opened by the suitor himself; and, willing to make the opportunity desired at once, and dreaded, she recollected, on a sudden, that she had a word to say to her brother before he went out, and, with apologies, left the room and shut the door.
Miss Violet raised her eyes and looked after her a little anxiously, as if she would have liked to stop her. I think the young lady guessed pretty well what was in Vane Trevor’s mind; but there was no averting the scene now, and she went on writing in a bar of crotchets in the treble, but placed the minim wrong in the bass.
There was a silence, during which the little French clock over the chimney-piece ticked very loud, and Miss Wagget’s lapdog yawned and chose a new place on the hearthrug, and the young lady was looking more closely at her music, and, though with a little blush, very gravely industrious. Trevor looked through the window, and down at the dog, and round the room, and up at the clock, but for the life of him he could not think of anything to say. The silence was growing insupportable, and at last he stood up smiling the best he could, and drew near the window where Violet was sitting, and tapped his chin with his cane, and said:—
“Music—a ha!—copying music!—I—I—a—I used to copy music pretty well; they said I did it uncommonly well; but I used to make those pops round like the copperplate, you know;youmake them oval. They have a bookful of my copying at Kincton. They said—Claradid—they could read it just like print—and—and I wish you could give me some employment that way—I really wish you would. I’m afraid you find it awfully slow—don’t you?”
“No—thanks; no, indeed—I’m very much obliged though, but I ratherlikeit; I don’t think it tiresome work at all.”
“I—I should so like—and I was so glad to hear from Miss Wagget that you thought the flowers pretty—yesterday, I mean. These are beginning to look a little seedy—aren’t they? I’ll send over more to-day—I only wish, Miss Darkwell, I knew your pet flowers, that I might send a lot of them—I—I assure you I do.”
Miss Darkwell here looked closer at her work, and drew two parallel lines connecting the stems of her semiquavers very nicely.