"Is there not some danger," said Lord Darlingford, "of a property-tax sending capital out of the kingdom?"
"It must be very easy," replied Henry, "for the inventors of all sorts of protecting duties to devise a means of meeting that difficulty, by some ingeniously arranged tax on the exportation of property, whether income or capital, with a tremendously deterring fine on any attempt at imposition; and minor exactments, to hunt evasion through all its windings. There might, also," he added, "be an alien tax, to prevent the foreign artizan from sharing the immunity from taxation, purchased by our own rich for our own poor."
"Is there not some danger," said Lady Arden, "that the deteriorated incomes of the great, by obliging them to lessen their establishments and expenditure, would throw many people out ofemployment, and so increase the numbers of the poor?"
"I should think not," answered Henry; "recollect there would be the same property in the kingdom, only in more general and more equal circulation. The servants dismissed, and the luxuries foregone by the few, would in all probability be more than compensated by the increased establishments and more numerous comforts of the many, though each only in a small degree. The standard of splendour might be lowered, but that of comfort would be raised. The change, too, is likely to be in favour of home productions: the overflow of inordinate wealth, thetoo muchof the few, is frequently squandered on luxuries obtained from abroad; while the fertilizing sufficiency, theenoughofthe many, would probably be expended on comforts produced at home.
"I do not, however," he added, "mean to assume the character of a prophet, or even to argue the point of future consequences; I take higher ground, and end every such discussion with the same appeal to duty:
"Let each generation do what is clearly justice in their own day, and leave the future to the All-wise Disposer of events.
"If there were, indeed, a theory through the mazes of which moral rectitude knew no path, we might be excusable in taking calculation for our guide; but when our road lies before us, indicated by duty's steadily pointing finger, we are not entitled to balance ere we proceed, even though it should be where four frequented highways meet."
Mrs. Dorothea, the sisters, and Sir James, had got tired of politics, and wandered into the garden. Henry, perceiving that Sir James was still in attendance on Louisa, became impatient, broke off the conversation abruptly, and following them, joined her, saying, "Lord Darlingford is too prudent a politician for me. I hate prudence and calculation, and worldly mindedness," he added, with impetuosity, and a provoked and mortified tone of voice, which Louisa was at no loss to comprehend. "The present artificial state of society," he proceeded, "has banished into the poet's dream every thing worth living for!—there alone all things deserving the ambition of an intellectual being now hold their unreal existence! Beauty has become a snare—feeling a folly, or a curse!—love a farce, and lovely woman, nature's most cunningworkmanship, atoy, atrinket, which the rich man may draw out his purse and purchase!!!—heart and all!" he subjoined, in an under and somewhat softened voice, for Louisa had looked round, and their eyes had met for a moment. "Is it so?" he continued; "or are the beautiful looking deceptions now made to suit themarketfor which they are intended,without hearts?"
Whether Alfred's study was pamphlet, newspaper, or magazine, he could never contrive to discern the print by any light but that of the window, or rather glass door, at which we left him standing on the morning on which he first discerned the fleeting semblance of a fair vision in the adjoining garden. The glass door was generally half open, a muslin blind drawn half down across it, and the eyes of the student, like those of the naughty child in the pictures of bold Harry, just visible over the top of his book.
On such occasions one of his sisters would often glide behind him, and startling him with a loud burlesque sigh, exclaim, "She is not there to-day." "Nonsense!" Alfred would say, rising. "This is a very well written thing," he added one morning, throwing his book on a table.
"What is it about, Alfred?" asked Madeline archly. He took up the book again to examine it before he could answer the question; "I declare he can't tell," she cried, "without looking at the top of the page;" a general burst of laughter followed, from which Alfred escaped into the garden. He had long since made it his business to ascertain that Lady Palliser and her daughter inhabited the next villa; but few, very few indeed, and "far between," had been the glimpses of his beauteous enslaver which his latestudious habits and love of good light had procured for him.
Lady Caroline appeared to be conscious that the garden was exposed to the view of their neighbours, and was therefore timid about entering it; or, when she did so, as on the first occasion noticed, it was only to pluck a flower, for she seemed fearful of remaining in it for a moment. This morning, however, both mother and daughter had appeared on the lawn and with bonnets on, which, combined with the early hour, had caused Alfred to suspect them of an intention of visiting the walks; and his consequent anticipations of a possible meeting, had, we must confess, made him rather absent.
He now called in at the window to his sisters to know if they were not yet ready, assuringthem that the band had played several tunes, and that they would be late.
"Don't you know that the Duke of Gloucester has arrived?" he continued, "did you not hear the joy bells yesterday evening? He is so punctual to seven, that the fashionables are always early when he is here."
This remonstrance had the desired effect; final arrangements were quickly completed and the party set forth.
On entering the Montpelier walk, Alfred beheld, quite near and coming towards them, Lady Palliser and her daughter, in company with the duke, and attended by two or three of his grace's aides-de-camp.
Alfred saw that Lady Caroline perceived and recognised him, for she coloured instantly, but looked as if she did not know whether sheought to acknowledge him or not; while he was so much startled and confounded, that he had not presence of mind to look for a recognition. Lady Palliser happened to be conversing with his grace, and did not see him. He passed, therefore, unacknowledged by either lady.
The next turn, the next and the next again, he was determined to manage matters better, and accordingly kept a regular look out for the duke's party, but they were nowhere to be seen; it was evident they had been going off the walk at the time he met them.
How dull the whole gay scene became the moment this conviction reached him! How irksome the frivolity of every body's manner; while all the world, seeming to have made the discovery simultaneously with himself, kept telling each other as they passed that the dukewas gone, just as if it was done on purpose to torment him.
In vain did Miss Salter, every time he encountered the party, address Lady Flamborough by her title, in an unnecessarily loud tone, to endeavour to draw his attention by showing him what exalted company she was in. Every effort was thrown away upon him, as well as all the extra finery sported this day on purpose for the duke. Little did his grace think how many husbands and fathers he had caused to grumble. As for poor Lady Whaleworthy, in her loyal zeal to make herself fit company for royalty, she actually crowned herself with the gold tissue turban which she wore at Mr. Salter's dinner; so that with this and her everlasting crimson velvet pelisse, to which she had added a gold waist-band for the occasion, she was altogether asfine as the hammer cloth of a lord mayor's coach.
Lady Flamborough trusted more to her natural attractions; these she displayed for the great occasion with a liberality which certainly did succeed in calling forth a remark from his grace, though by no means a complimentary one.
The new bonnets sported this morning would require the calculating boy to count them; and as for shoes, many a simple-hearted girl fresh from the country, submitted to hours of actual torture, in order that the Duke of Gloucester might go back to London convinced that she had very small feet.
The next morning Alfred was on his guard, and watched the first approaches of the duke's party with a palpitating heart.
But, alas! Lady Palliser, as before, was occupied and saw him not; while, what was much worse, it was evident that Lady Caroline did see him at a distance, and from that moment kept her eyes fixed on the ground. They passed each other, and he could discern the glow of consciousness steal over her cheek as they did so. Again and again they passed—still withoutrecognition; till at length he scarcely ventured to look that way. Lord Darlingford now appeared. He attached himself to Lady Arden's party—Jane in particular. After a turn or two, he apologised for quitting them, saying he must go and speak to Lady Palliser. Alfred, forming a sudden and desperate resolve, at which he often afterwards looked back with astonishment, took his lordship's arm, and accompanied him. The duke had just quitted the walk, and Lady Palliser, quitedésoeuvrée, happened at the moment to be in what she called a humour for being spoken to. She received, therefore, not only Lord Darlingford but Alfred with the utmost graciousness. Caroline, after a timid glance at her mother's countenance, looked round and recognised our hero with a smile that seemed to open to him in an instant the gatesof Paradise. Nay, the Montpelier walk itself became, as by a sudden revelation, the very garden of Eden to his delighted eyes. He was walking next to Caroline—he did not know how he had got there! He was speaking to her—he did not know what he was saying! Her countenance was turned towards him to reply, while the close bonnet which, while it was so turned, hid its loveliness from every eye. It was a slight summer one of simple snowy sarcenet, and though it warded off the glare of the out-door sun-beam, it admitted through its half transparent texture a heavenly kind of light, which at once accurately defined, and seemed a fitting shrine for the perfectly angelic features around which it dwelt: the pure lively red of the lovely moving lip, where all else was so white; the smile of enchantment, exposing to view the pearly teeth; thedelicately pencilled brow; the large dark eyes, which yet were so soft, so modestly raised, so meek in their expression, that their very lustre seemed that of compassion's tear ere it o'erflows the lid! Yet did their mild beams make such an unmerciful jumble of all Alfred's ideas, that he was quite sure he must be talking nonsense. But there was no help for it; if he spoke not, he saw but the fluted outside of the white sarcenet bonnet; it was necessary to make ceaseless appeals to Caroline's attention, or the graceful head would not be turned towards him; the lovely eyes would not be raised to his, the beauteous lips, fresh as rose leaves moist with morning dew, would not be parted in reply; to purchase delights such as these he was compelled to risk his reputation as a sage, and go on without an effort to think. At length, howeverhe came to an unlucky pause, and instead of jumping over it, unfortunately began to weigh what subject he should next propound. But, alas! the precious moments flew past in rapid succession, and, one after another, became absorbed in the gulph of eternity, while our poor hero was still at a stand.
And now strange uneasy sensations began to blend with the dream-like felicity he had hitherto enjoyed, though he was not yet awake to the cause, which was simply this: the band was playing that well known note of dismissal—the national anthem—and anticipations of approaching separation began to steal over his senses. To his surprise and infinite delight, however, Lady Palliser suddenly asked Lord Darlingford and himself, with the prettiest and most petitioning manner possible, to go home with herparty to breakfast. We need scarcely say that Alfred consented; so did Lord Darlingford, though not quite so willingly, for he had intended to return to Lady Arden's party.
After this morning, Alfred not only joined his new friends whenever they appeared, but became in a short time almost a daily visitor at Jessamine bower; and apparently with the entire approbation of Lady Palliser. Indeed, it was in general some message or some commission of her ladyship's, or some allusion to the morrow made at parting, almost amounting to an appointment, which furnished him with an excuse for calling. He, poor fellow, was flattered, delighted, filled with hope and joy! But, alas! he was not sufficiently acquainted with the character of Lady Palliser to understand his own position. Her ladyship was a being without affections and without occupation; who in her intercourse with others, and from total heartlessness, cared not whose best feelings were the springs of the puppet-show, so the movements of the puppets amused her—and he happened to be the whim of the hour;—to order him about, to see him perfectly at her disposal, chanced to be what, just then, afforded a species of excitement to her restless idleness and morbid selfishness.
Meanwhile much of Caroline's excessive reserve, or rather fearfulness of manner wore off. In her mother's immediate presence indeed she was ever the same; but if Lady Palliser quitted the room for a moment, or was occupied conversing with some other visitor, Caroline's countenance would brighten, and her manner become comparatively easy and happy. Fully, however, to comprehend our heroine, it will be necessary to cast a retrospective glance over the manner of her education.
The most painful silence of the heart and all its best affections had from infancy been habitual to Caroline. She was an only child, and had no recollection of her father; while her mother's strange, unfeeling character, had made her from the very first shrink within herself. When arrived at an age at which young people, not self-opinionated, naturally wish to ask those older than themselves what they ought to do on various little occasions, which seem to them important from their novelty, poor Caroline would sometimes, in what she deemed a case of urgency, make a great effort and apply to her mother, on which Lady Palliser would treat her simplicity as the best of good jokes, laugh to excess, then rally her for blushing, and next perhaps for shedding tears; and, finally, either leave her question without reply,or give one turning the subject into absolute ridicule; till at last Caroline learned to feel a terror surpassing description of having any one thought, feeling, or opinion even guessed at by her mother. Yet her mother was her only companion. There was also a strange inconsistency in the character and conduct of Lady Palliser; for while she never condescended to advise, she was tyrannical in her commands, exacting implicit, unquestioned, instantaneous obedience to every whim.
Either there was something in the thorough kindliness of Alfred's disposition which appeared in his manner, and secretly won the confidence of our heroine; or fate had ordained that they were to love each other. Whatever the cause, the consequence was, that Caroline, after the intimacy we havedescribed had subsisted for some weeks, no longer felt alone in the world—she was no longer without thoughts that gave her pleasure; while those thoughts, though for their ostensible object they had a walk, a song, a book, or a flower, were always associated with the idea of Alfred—of something that he had said—or some little kind service he had performed—or, perhaps, some chance encounter of his eye—or the consciousness of his fixed gaze, felt without daring to look up, and which, though it had produced strange confusion of ideas at the time, was remembered with delight. Neither was she any longer without hope, though but a hope that they might meet on the walks, or that he might come in about something she had heard her mother mention to him.
It may be asked why should Caroline not always have had the hopes with which most young people enter life; merely because the buoyancy of youth had been pressed down, and the elasticity of its spirits destroyed, by the unnatural restraint under which every thought and feeling had been held during the period that her earliest affections had, as is generally the case, endeavoured to fix themselves on her parent.
As for Alfred, he had misgivings certainly, respecting his being a younger brother, and his consequent want of fortune. At the same time, when he felt that he was justified in harbouring the restless, delightful hope, that he was already not quite indifferent to Caroline, and that he received such decided encouragement as he did from her mother, what could he think, but that he was the most fortunate fellow in existence, and that he had met with the mostgenerous, liberal minded, delightful people in the whole world!
Sometimes, indeed, he would take a fastidious fit, and murmur a little in his heart against fate, for compelling him to be the one to receive, and denying him the pride and pleasure of bestowing; but so absorbing was his passion for Caroline, that he soon closed his eyes against this objection, almost as absolutely as he would have done against the contrary had it existed. He was incapable, in short, at the time, of weighing any subject deliberately: a look, a smile, or the unbidden brightening of Caroline's countenance when they met, would have been sufficient to have upset the firmest resolves, had he even been visited by a lucid interval in which to have formed them; but on the contrary, from the first morning he had been so unexpectedlyinvited home by Lady Palliser, his head had become giddy with rapture; the pulsations of his heart had never settled down to their steady original pace, nor had any one thought or feeling ever once been summoned before the bar of reason. That it must be a fairy tale—a dream—too much happiness to be true, would sometimes cross his imagination for a moment, and strike his heart with a sort of panic; but such thoughts not being agreeable enough to meet with a welcome within, were therefore quickly dismissed.
Whenever he was neither at Lady Palliser's nor at his old post at the window, he was wandering in some unfrequented walk, or reclining listlessly on a remote sofa in a deep reverie, calling to mind looks, smiles, or half uttered replies, from which, while they said nothing, every thing might be inferred.
He studied and learned to comprehend as a language hitherto unknown, the timid, shrinking, as yet undeveloped character of Caroline. To him her very silence now conveyed more than the eloquence of others; and however long he watched the downcast lid, if it was raised at last but for a second, he was amply rewarded.
And when he repaired to Jessamine Bower, to pay his now daily morning visit, and on entering addressed Lady Palliser first, as he made a point of doing, he literally trembled with concealed emotion as he noted the slight tinge, faint as the reflection from a rose leaf, steal over Caroline's delicate cheek, while she continued to bend over her employment, whatever it might be, and acting her part unnecessarily well, endeavoured to betray no consciousness of his presence, till her attention was absolutely claimed by some such formal address as—
"How is Lady Caroline this morning?" Formal as were the words, the tone of the voice was sufficient. The faint tinge would increase to a deep blush, ere the equally formed reply was articulated. On many occasions, Alfred would continue to converse with Lady Palliser, or perform any of her frivolous and whimsical commands, and nothing more apparently would pass between the young people; yet would he, the while, trace in slight variations of countenance, imperceptible to any other eye, all that Caroline thought or felt with regard to what was said. Sometimes Lady Palliser herself would suddenly fling down her netting or knotting, orwhatever nonsense she was about, with an expression of disgust, declare she was sick of it, and ordering Alfred to look for her pet book of Italian Trios, and Caroline to put away her drawing and join them, seat herself at the instrument.
This to Caroline and Alfred was a wonderful improvement of position. Standing together behind Lady Palliser's chair, their voices united in the thrilling harmonies of the music, and sometimes in the utterance of words expressive of thoughts, which else one at least of the voices had never dared to pronounce. On one of these favourable occasions a circumstance occurred, trivial in the extreme, yet which forwarded Alfred's cause amazingly, and indeed conveyed to both a tacit conviction of each other's attachment.
A hand of each while they sang rested on the back of Lady Palliser's chair, and after a simultaneous attempt to turn over the leaf of the music-book, accidentally came in contact as they returned to their former position. It had been long ere a modest younger brother, like our poor hero, had found courage to possess himself by any direct means of the fair, soft, taper fingered, rosy palmed, little hand, of the great heiress, the beautiful Lady Caroline Montague; but an occasion like this was not to be resisted: Alfred's trembling fingers closed upon the fond treasure; while a hasty but faint effort of Caroline's to withdraw it, was met by a beseeching look that seemed to have the desired effect; for, though covered with blushes, she did not immediately succeed in disengaging the hand, while the little scene was at themoment supplied by the duet with appropriate words.
Langue il mio co-re per te d'a-mo-re.
Sang Alfred, while Caroline in faltering notes replied
Non so re-sis-te-re.
When our hero had taken his departure Caroline hastened to her own apartment. She felt unfit for any society, particularly her mother's.
Her pure unpractised delicacy of mind causedher to look back on the incident which had just passed as an event of the utmost importance; as, in short, not only a proposal, but also an acceptance. Nay, had she wished it, she would no longer have thought herself at liberty to retract; for she knew that she would not have allowed a man who was indifferent to her to have retained her hand in his for a single second. That she had permitted Alfred then to do so, she felt amounted to a confession of preference! Deep was the blush which accompanied this thought.
At other times Lady Palliser would be extravagantly late in the morning; and, if consequently not in the drawing-room when our hero called, she would send word that Mr. Arden was not to go away till she came down;and then so whimsical were all her movements, not perhaps make her appearance for an hour, or possibly two. Those were the occasions on which Alfred best succeeded in drawing Caroline into easy and familiar conversation, and thus inducing in her a feeling of confidence towards himself, which a young creature who had been blessed with any friend in her own family, would not have thought of mingling with her love for a lover: but the affection poor Caroline was beginning to feel towards Alfred was not only herFirst Love, but it was also the first friendship her heart had ever been encouraged to know. Thus it was, that to a being hitherto so totally alone in the world, he became in so short a time every thing. While the idea, however vaguely entertained, of being at some period of the future of existence protected byhis affection from every harshness—sheltered by his tenderness from every sorrow, had almost unconsciously became the hope, the home, the resting place of all her anticipations.
"But how are you to ask us to the wedding, Alfred, considering we don't even visit?" said Louisa one morning to her brother, who stood as usual at the window, but now without even the pretext of a book.
"Nonsense, Louisa!" he replied. "Wedding, indeed! I wish it were come to that! and it would be easy to arrange the visiting. By-the-by, ma'am," he added, turning to his mother, "independent of Louisa's jesting, I wish we did visit."
"So do I, my dear," replied Lady Arden, "but Lady Palliser, of the two, was here rather before I was; besides she is a person of the highest rank, so that I think the first advances ought to come from her. They say too, her ladyship is going to give a great fancy ball, and it would look as if I wanted to have the girls asked. However, I should suppose we must visit soon, one way or other; for Louisa's jesting as you call it, appears to me to go on in as serious a manner as you could desire."
"Oh—I—a—don't know, ma'am," said Alfred, colouring, and pulling off and on an unfortunate glove, which seemed destined to be martyred in the cause.
"Why certainly," persisted Lady Arden, "neither Lady Caroline, nor her mother for her, would be justified in receiving either your publicattentions or your daily visits in the manner they do, if they meant to make the only objection which could be made to you—your being a younger son."
"Well—I hope you may be right, ma'am;" said Alfred, laughing, and escaping into the garden to hide his confusion.
"He will be a fortunate young man if he gets Lady Caroline Montague," said Aunt Dorothea.
"Not more fortunate than he deserves, Mrs. Dorothea," replied Lady Arden, "for he is the best creature in the world, as well as the handsomest and the most agreeable."
"No one can be more sensible of my nephew's merits than I am," said Mrs. Dorothea; "but I still maintain that few, even of the few who deserve as well, are as fortunate. Lady CarolineMontague, I understand, inherits the whole of the family estates, and her son, should she have one, will I suppose have the title."
"Why, no doubt she could command any match," replied Lady Arden; "'tis however a most fortunate circumstance that Lady Palliser has the good sense to see the advantage of her daughter marrying so thoroughly amiable a young man, who will make her so truly happy."
"Talking of happiness," said Mrs. Dorothea, "I hope poor Jane may be happy with Lord Darlingford."
"I trust she will," replied Lady Arden, with a half suppressed sigh; "and in point both of rank and fortune you know it is a most desirable match."
"No doubt of it," rejoined Mrs. Dorothea,"and people are very foolish who neglect such serious considerations, and allow their time to glide by them. Were I, at this moment, as I might have been but for my own folly, Countess Dowager of Ravenscroft;" and here Mrs. Dorothea drew up her head with great stiffness, "such people as the Salters would never have had it in their power to insult me; nor should I have been in danger of losing my life by being baked to death in that horrid lodging. To be sure the carpet looked respectable, and that was all it had to recommend it."
"By-the-by," said her ladyship, "I have often wondered, Mrs. Arden, how you, who have in general a very proper sense of your own dignity, came to make the acquaintance of such people as those Salts, was it you called them?"
"Your ladyship's remark is very just," replied Mrs. Dorothea, "but the old friend from whom they brought me a letter, is a highly respectable and gentlemanly man, and I was not aware till lately that he had only made their acquaintance himself casually at a boarding-house, where it seems they persecuted him with attentions, and then worried him for a letter to some one at Cheltenham, where they said they were going perfect strangers. He was afraid to enter into those particulars in the note he sent by them, lest they should contrive to open and read it: and the letter he since wrote me to say how little he himself knew of them, and to apologise for the liberty he had taken, by explaining that they made such a point of his giving them a line to some friend, that he did not know how to refuse, was unfortunately delayed, waiting for a frank (he knows I don't like postages), till with my usual silly goodnature I had taken a great deal of trouble about those worthless people. Their vulgarity too disgusted me all the time; yet they so overwhelmed me with their thanks, their gratitude, as they called it, that I literally did not know how to shake them off."
"Really my dear madam," said Lady Arden, "you are quite too goodnatured."
"That has always been my weak point," replied Mrs. Dorothea: "when I see that it is in my power to serve people, I am fool enough to fancy that alone gives them a claim upon me."
And such was really the case, for poor Mrs. Dorothea, though she had been all her life threatening to grow wise, in other words selfish,had never yet attained to any degree of proficiency in this art of self-defence, if we may so term it. Too great goodnature was indeed her only apology for being still at fifty-five, what people of the world emphatically call young! For she had not been all her days blinded by the dazzling sunshine of unclouded prosperity; on the contrary, her horizon had been frequently overshadowed by those unfavourable changes, from which, as variableness of weather teaches the sailor seamanship, knowledge of the world is in general collected.
"But we were speaking of Jane," proceeded Mrs. Dorothea, "I have not the least doubt of my niece's good sense. Indeed Jane is a sweet girl, as amiable as sensible. I was only afraid that Lord Darlingford had rather a jealous temper."
"I hope not!" her ladyship replied, again sighing, "and you know, my dear Mrs. Arden, the impossibility of having every thing one's own way in this world. The connection, establishment, and all that, are in the highest degree desirable. And then between ourselves, Lord Nelthorpe has not behaved very well to poor Jane."
"In that respect, it is so far fortunate," said Mrs. Dorothea, "that she is now making a still higher connection. And then Sir James, with his fifteen thousand per annum, will certainly be a splendid match for Louisa; but she must mind what she is about, and not laugh at him as she now does after they are married."
"Of course she will have too much good sense for that," replied Lady Arden; but her eyes filled with silent tears as she thought of theinfinite sacrifice Louisa would make, if she did indeed marry Sir James.
The three sisters had followed Alfred into the garden, and were collecting flowers to supply the vases in the drawing-room, and laughing in their usual light-hearted way, if but a blossom fell to the ground instead of into the basket held out to catch it. Caroline the while was standing in her mother's drawing-room, behind a Venetian blind, through which unseen she was observing their movements, and envying their happiness, which to her appeared to be satisfactorily accounted for by Alfred's being their brother. How fervently did she wish at the moment that she too were his sister, were it but that she might be privileged to go out and join the cheerful group, on which she thus wistfully gazed.
With her solitary musing, however, a thrill pleasure mingled, when from time to time she saw Alfred steal a glance of interest at the very window where she stood; and which, from the blind being down, he suspected was occupied by Caroline.
The Arden girls, at the moment, were all occupied plucking blossoms from various parts of a long trailing branch of woodbine, which as it hung from above their heads, it cost them an effort to reach.
"Look, look! Caroline," cried Lady Palliser, who was standing at another window, "how like they are to the drawings of the graces. I must go and see Lady Arden directly, and send them all cards; for I am determined to have those three nice girls to do the graces at my fancy ball."
Out of this mere whim of Lady Palliser's arose a visiting acquaintance with the Ardens.
Alfred and Caroline were, therefore, more than ever together, a consequence which Lady Palliser made no effort whatever to prevent. The fact was that her ladyship was in the habit of considering Caroline, who was but seventeen, a mere child; while her own excessive vanity, and Alfred's unremitting efforts to make himself agreeable to her for Caroline's sake, had completely deceived her into a belief that he was under the dominion of one of those absurd boy passions, which very young men sometimes conceive for women much older than themselves; particularly if they happened to be, as her ladyship well knew she was, still extremely beautiful. And though Lady Palliser was too proud and too cold to have the most remote idea ofmaking a fool of herself, she looked forward to seeing our hero in despair at her feet as to thedenouementof an excellent jest; while in the meantime she amused herself by drawing him on to commit every absurdity she could devise. And such, no doubt, if meant as attentions to herself, would have been many humble assiduities, which, for Caroline's sake, he willingly paid her ladyship.
During the progress of this amiable proceeding, the honest-hearted Alfred received every symptom of kindliness of manner, as an indication of maternal feeling, and as a proof that Lady Palliser already considered him her future son-in-law.
One evening they happened to be alone, when he was about to take his departure; her ladyship, on bidding him good night, held towards himher beautiful white hand in a very coquettish, but, as he thought, in the most frank, obliging manner possible. The idea struck him, that considering his comparative want of fortune, it might be more honourable in him to make some disclosure of the state of his feelings to Lady Palliser, previously to addressing Caroline herself; accordingly, in a paroxysm of grateful and dutiful affection, he seized her ladyship's proffered hand, respectfully pressed it to his lips, and began to murmur something about his own unworthiness. Lady Palliser, snatching her hand away, laughed and said, "Go, you foolish child."
Alfred, thus discouraged for the moment, took his departure in silence, with some idea that Lady Palliser, however kindly and liberally disposed towards his humble pretensions, very possibly thought both Caroline andhimself too young at present. What else could she mean by calling him a foolish child? Little did he dream of the construction put on his manner by his intended mother-in-law.
As little had he suspected on former occasions, that her ladyship had believed him to be making a complete fool of himself, and had been in proportion well amused, when, in conversation with her, while every word was intended for the ear of our heroine, who sat silently by at her drawing, he had ventured on topics, which when alone with Caroline he dared not introduce; and eloquently painted his idea of an ardent, genuine, and worthy attachment, and the devotion of a whole life consequent upon it till he had became breathless with agitation: yet, seeing that Lady Palliser only smiled at the uncontrollable warmth which quite carried himaway, he believed that he was tacitly approved of, and so thoroughly understood, that explanation, whenever the proper time for it should arrive, would be merely matter of form.
The triumphs of Aunt Dorothea over all her enemies, particularly the Salters, were so numerous, that to avoid prolixity we have not recounted them. As for Miss Salter, she had brought on a most inconvenient pain in the back of her neck by the reiterated bows with which she had again and again, morning after morning, vainly endeavoured to draw the attention of Mrs. Dorothea Arden.
One day, however, when that lady was driving up and down the High-street, seated at herease in her sister, Lady Arden's peculiarly splendid open barouche, she beheld, trudging along the flag-way and coming towards her, Mr. and the Misses Salter, with countenances which betrayed that they were not insensible to the heat of the weather; and shoes so assimilated by dust to the dust on which they trod, as to be nearly invisible. Mrs. Dorothea was not aware that the Salters had ever before seen her in this elegant carriage: so anxious was she therefore that they should do so now, that on the impulse of the moment, in defiance of having long since given them the cut direct, she made an almost involuntary, yet very conspicuous bow. Electrified and delighted, the whole party stopped short and performed no less than three bows each in return; while Miss Salter, who had by much the greatestportion of moral courage of the whole trio, added even a kiss of the hand.
Miss Dorothea had not been long returned home when she received a card of invitation from the Misses Salter to a quadrille party, accompanied by a long servile note, to say that they were much concerned at not having had earlier it in their power to offer some attention to her friends, Lady Arden and family, and also to her friend Lady Palliser, and begging to know if their waiting upon, and sending cards of invitation to these respective ladies would be agreeable.
To this was added a hint, that indeed the party was in a great measure made for her friends and would be veryselect.
To the invitation for herself, Mrs. Dorothea sent a formal rejection, without assigning anyreason. Of the absurd and forward proffer ofattentionto herfriendsshe took no notice.
Nor were those dignified proceedings the sole mode of vengeance practised by Mrs. Dorothea against her pitiful foes; for much as she was herself engaged at present with more agreeable occupations, she had placed the affair from the commencement in such able hands, namely, those of her prime minister, Sarah, that no circumstance, however minute, had been lost sight of.
The origin of the Salters, by its coarsest appellation, had been diligently disseminated in every servant's hall, and thence arisen to the respective dining and drawing-rooms, till it had reached the ears of many, who else had never known that there were such people in existence as the Salters.
What was if possible worse, Sir William Orm's servant in particular had been put on his guard about the deception practised on him by Mrs. Johnson, respecting the young ladies' fortunes; on which Sir William had without the slightest ceremony cut the connexion altogether. He never called or even left a card; he never joined them any where, and as to the bows he gave them in return for those they made to him from a mile off, they were really, except to persons in desperate circumstances, not worth having.
Sir James, it may be remembered, had deserted on the very first morning he had encountered Louisa Arden; so that disconsolate indeed were now the pair who had so lately congratulated themselves on having two baronets for their lovers.
Theirselectacquaintance too, the Shawbridges and Whaleworthys, began to play fine; for in a watering place a title is a title, whether got by accident or by cheese, and though both beef and cheese, like all other necessaries, are sad vulgar things, experience had taught even the innocent hearted Lady Whaleworthy, that with a certain class, and she poor woman dreamed of no better, a title could cover a multitude ofcheeses.
Not so, alas, with the Misses Salter'sfamily secret, which seemed for the present to have abolished all variety of diet, for (crying injustice!) while scarcely any body would visit Mr. Salter, Mr. Salter's beef was, to quote Sarah's polite pun, "in every body's mouth!"
People could not even propound the flattering probability of his having amassed a largefortune without some one more witty than elegant adding the characteristic remark, that while salting his beef it was supposed he had taken care to save his bacon.
To complete the unfortunate position of the family, Mr. Salter had unluckily found it necessary of late, in consequence of an aggravation of his old complaint of the eyelids, to wear, protruding from beneath the brim of his white hat, agreensilk shade, which gave occasion to the idlers on the Mountpelier-walk, green being the well known colour of disappointment, to assert that he had done so in consequence of the cruel desertion of Lady Flamborough, who had, simultaneously with the appearance of the said badge of despair, jilted him for a half-pay lieutenant; a gentleman who having received a hint to retirefrom the service of his Majesty, for reasons best known to himself and his brother officers, had come to Cheltenham to devote himself to the service of the ladies.
Nor had poor Mr. Salter, while dragged every day to the walks by his daughters, who now had no one else to walk with, a chance of forgetting his fair deceiver; for there she was to be seen morning and evening as gailyundressedas ever, flaunting away and smiling and languishing as usual; her white ostrich feathers too, at the highly improper instigation of the breezes, mingling from time to time with the bright red whiskers of the ci-devant lieutenant; while she, ungrateful woman, had the barbarity to pass poor Mr. Salter again and again, without so much as a recognition. "And that after," as he himself remarked,"having had the face to eat his good dinners;" the remembrance of the cost of which now added bitterness to the thoughts of slighted love.
This was the morning too of the very day, or rather evening, fixed for Lady Palliser's fancy ball, with the expectation of which the whole town was ringing. Even the walks were thinned by its prospective influence, or rather picked of fashionables; for those who were to be there, were keeping themselves up, that they might be quite fresh for an occasion to which the very capriciousness of her ladyship's character had lent, in anticipation at least, a more than common interest.
The Misses Salter, after weighing for two or three turns the poor chance which sad experience had taught them there was of their picking up abeau of any kind, against the certain disgrace of showing by their wretchedness of fatigue that they were not to be among theéliteof the evening, decided on going home to their breakfast, which social meal commenced in a sulk and ended in a storm.
Miss Grace began again about the improvidence of cutting Mrs. Dorothea in the premature manner they had done. "And it was all your fault, Eliza," she continued, "that insolent temper of yours is always longing so for an opportunity to break out; and yet there is nobody that can sneak and cringe in the mean fawning manner that you can when you think there is any thing to be got by a person. If my advice had been taken, we would have been acquainted with all these genteel people, andgoing to this ball to-night, no doubt. To do Mrs. Dorothea justice, she was quite indefatigable in her kindness, and in getting people to call on us and invite us as long as we showed her any kind of gratitude; so we have ourselves to thank, or rather you for it all."
"Your advice indeed, you fool!" was all Miss Salter could find to say; having, as she could not help knowing, the worst of the argument.
"It all comes ofpride, and upstartishness, and nonsense," said Mr. Salter. "Grace, the girl, however, is so far right; Mrs. Dorothea Arden is a very worthy gentlewoman, and showed us a great deal more civility than in our station of life we had any right to look for; and it certainly was our place to be verygrateful for it, and if we have not been so it is no fault of mine; I knew nothing of the carryings on of you Misses with your boarding-school breeding forsooth."
In consequence of the expected ball in the evening, neither the Palliser nor Arden party had been at the walks in the morning. But soon after breakfast Alfred called at Lady Palliser's with his usual offering of sweets.
Caroline had just entered the drawing-room, and was proceeding towards a conservatory at its further extremity, when the appearance of Alfred arrested her steps.
He assisted her in arranging the flowers he had brought, and in selecting from them thefavoured few she was to wear herself. This task drew from him some playful remark, more love-like than rational, on the good fortune of the happy blossoms thus chosen.
Lady Palliser had been particularly harsh that morning about some trifle, and Caroline was consequently in very bad spirits.
"Why should it be good fortune to be chosen by me," she said, "when I am myself the most unfortunate of beings? The poor flowers that I choose," she added with a faint effort to laugh, fearful she had said too much, "will be the first to fade away," quoting Moore's little song.
"Or the young gazelle, with its soft black eye,If itloved you well would be sure to die,"
proceeded Alfred, humming the air and continuing the quotation; then in a half playful, halftender whisper, he subjoined, "The death-warrant of many of whom your ladyship little thinks would be already signed and sealed were this the case." But perceiving while he spoke that though Caroline tried to smile her lip trembled, he checked himself, and with an altered tone exclaimed, "I beg a thousand pardons! You are—you seem—what can have—"
"Oh, nothing," she replied, "only other young people are light-hearted and cheerful together; there are your sisters for instance, how happy they always seem to be; and how kind to you all—how indulgent, how affectionate, Lady Arden appears. While I have neither sister, nor brother, and yet my mother"—here checking herself, she added hesitatingly, "I dare say—it must be my own fault—I suppose I don't deserve to be loved—but I amquite sure that—that—my mother does not love me—and oh, if you knew how miserable the thought makes me!"
"You cannot be serious," he said.
"I am indeed!" she replied, looking up with innocent earnestness, while her eyes swam in tears.
Alfred caught her hand, pressed it to his lips, talked incoherently about the impossibility of knowing without loving her, then of his own unworthiness, his presumption, his poverty, his insignificance, &c. &c.; his being in short a younger son; and at length wound up all by making, notwithstanding, a passionate declaration of his love. If affection the most devoted, the most unalterable, had any value in her eyes, affection that would study her every wish, affection such as he was convinced no lover hadever felt before; if such affection could in any degree compensate for the absence of every other pretension, such, unable longer to suppress his feeling, he now ventured to lay at her feet.
Caroline trembled and remained silent. He entreated her to speak, to relieve him from the fear that he had offended her past forgiveness by the very mention of his perhaps too daring suit.
"Does—my mother—know?" she whispered at last, "because—if not—I fear—"
"Lady Palliser I think," he replied, "must know, must understand; nay, I have ventured to allude slightly to the subject, and have even been presumptuous enough to translate her ladyship's kindly and indulgent admission of my constant visits as, however liberal on her part, a tacit consent to my addresses."
"Oh, I hope you are right!" exclaimed Caroline, with an inadvertent earnestness which called forth from Alfred gratitude the most profuse, expressed, not indeed loudly, but in whispers so tender, so eloquent, that for some moments, Caroline, forgetting every thing but their import, felt a happiness she had never known before. New and delightful prospects of futurity seemed opening before her youthful imagination, hitherto so cruelly depressed. Her countenance, though covered with blushes, and studiously turned away to hide them, so far indicated what was passing within, as to encourage Alfred in adding,
"To-morrow, then, when Lady Palliser may possibly be at home, may I venture to speak to her ladyship on this subject?"
After a short silence, Caroline replied with hesitation,
"Yes—I—suppose—you had better."
But she sighed heavily as she said so, for she dreaded the strange and whimsical temper of Lady Palliser; yet she now found that a feeling of consolation accompanied what had hitherto been her greatest sorrow, the sense of her mother's want of affection; for perhaps, she thought, she may not care enough about me to mind what I do! Here all her efforts at self-possession gave way, and she yielded to a passion of tears.
Alfred had been holding her hand, and anxiously watching her countenance; he became alarmed, and began to suspect, that perhaps she was herself undecided. "What can thismean?" he cried. "You do not repent of the permission you have given me? Caroline! say you do not! Say I am wrong in this!"
She raised her eyes and moved her lips to reply, when a loud electrifying knock was heard at the hall door. The look however had so far reassured Alfred, that he again pressed her hand to his lips, and repeated with an inquiring tone, "To-morrow, then?" Footsteps were heard in the hall; the drawing-room door opened, and Alfred hastily disappeared, while a servant entering, laid cards on the table and retired.
Caroline was hastening towards the conservatory to take refuge there till her agitation should subside, when the Venetian blind which hung over its entrance was moved aside, and her mother appeared before her, scorn and rage depicted in her countenance.
Our heroine, her footsteps thus unexpectedly arrested, stopped short in the centre of the apartment, and stood trembling from head to foot.
From behind the Venetian blind, Lady Palliser had witnessed the whole of the interview between the lovers.
She was not herself previously aware that the heartless coquetry in which she had been indulging had taken so strong a hold even of her bad feelings; but disappointed vanity was perhaps a mortification she had never known before. She therefore scarcely herself understood the species of rage with which she was now animated; the almost hatred with which she now looked on the perfect loveliness of her blushing, trembling child. Of course, on prudential considerations she would have disapproved of the match at any rate; and of this she now made an excuse to herself.
She stepped forward, and when close before Caroline, stamped her foot, uttered an ironical, hysterical laugh, and almost gasping for breath, stood some moments ere she could well articulate.
"You piece of premature impudence!" were the first words she at length pronounced. After pausing again for a moment, she recommenced with a sneer, "So you have made your arrangement. I must congratulate you on Mr. Arden's obliging acceptance of your liberal offer, of heart, hand, and fortune!"
Caroline looked the most innocent astonishment.
"You really do not understand me," proceeded her ladyship, in the same tone of mockery. "Are you then not aware that I have been a witness to the scene which has just passed? and have, of course, heard your modest ladyship stating to Mr. Arden how much at a loss you were for some one to love you, forsooth! Barefaced enough, certainly! Upon which the young man could not in common politeness do less than offer his services. Besides, it was much too good a thing to be rejected; few younger brothers, and therefore beggars, would refuse the hand of an heiress of your rank and fortune. Go! you disgrace to your family and sex; go to your room, and remain there till you have my permission to leave it. As for Mr. Arden, I shall give orders that he is never again admitted beneath this roof. Should you hereafter meet him in society do not dare to recognise him. Go!"
Caroline was moving towards the door, without attempting a reply, well aware that remonstrance or entreaty would be perfectly vain.
"Stay!—I have changed my mind," recommenced her ladyship. "Mr. Arden comes to-morrow, it seems—let him come—I shall not see him. Receive him yourself, reject him yourself, now and for ever! Tell him that on reflection you have repented of your folly; and that the subject must not be even mentioned to me. Let the interview take place in this room—let your rejection be distinct, and let him suppose it comes from yourself. I shall be again in the conservatory—I shall hear and see all that passes; and on your peril, by word or look, say more or less than I have commanded."
Caroline flung herself on her knees, and with clasped hands and streaming eyes looked up inher mother's face. "Oh, do not, do not," she exclaimed, "ask me to see him, and in all else I will submit!"
Lady Palliser laughed out with malicious irony, saying, "So you offer conditional obedience. Do," she proceeded, frowning fiercely, and extending her clenched hand in the attitude of a fury, "precisely as I have commanded!"
"This evening," continued her ladyship, with affected composure, looking contemptuously down on Caroline, who was sobbing ready to break her heart, "this evening, deport yourself as though nothing had happened: dance as much as usual; and do not dare to have red eyes, or to show the slightest depression of manner. Should Mr. Arden make any allusion to what has occurred this morning, merely tellhim to say nothing more on the subject till to-morrow."
Here Lady Palliser quitted the apartment, while Caroline remained on her knees, overwhelmed by utter despair, and shedding, with all the innocent vehemence of childhood, the large pure tears, which like summer showers fall so abundantly from the eyes of the young in their first sorrow.
The alternative of daring to disobey her harsh and heartless mother never once presented itself to her mind as possible.
It was night—arrivals had commenced—the lights, the music, the decorations, the sight and scent of the flowers, all added to the aching of Caroline's temples and the confusion of her ideas, as she stood in a sort of waking dream, conscious only of wretchedness, near the door of the first of the reception rooms, courtesying with a mechanical smile to each new group that appeared. She would have given the world to have been any where else, but this was the post her mother had commanded her to fill.
When the ladies of the Arden party entered, she felt a childish impulse to fling herself into the bosom of Lady Arden, and drawing all the daughters round her, entreat them to hide her from her cruel mother.
Alfred next appeared, accompanied by Sir Willoughby and Mr. Geoffery Arden. The two latter named gentlemen had been expected for some days, but had arrived only about two hours before.
Alfred presented both, and some unmeaning conversation passed about the heat of London, how long they had been on the road, &c. Our hero, the moment he came in, missed the flowers Caroline had promised to wear, and felt disappointed. If she had forgotten them in the hurry of dressing it was no very flattering token of her regard. If, on the other hand, LadyPalliser had noticed and forbid her wearing them, it was a bad symptom of his ultimate success. He longed for an opportunity of venturing some playful reproach which might lead to an explanation. When his companions moved on a step or two he drew very near, and asked in an emphatic whisper, if the chosen blossoms had faded already. A rush of colour, which the peculiar fairness of Caroline's complexion already described made the more remarkable, covered her cheeks in a moment; but she attempted no reply. After a short and somewhat anxious pause Alfred asked her to dance; she looked up suddenly but vacantly, as if scarcely comprehending what he had said, but still spoke not. He was just about to repeat his words, when Willoughby, who had been conversing with Lady Palliser, turned round and made thesame request. Caroline, glancing towards her mother, and seeing her eye upon her, started, assented quickly, took Willoughby's arm, and walked to the quadrille.
Lady Palliser noted the chagrin of our hero with secret triumph, and suddenly forming one of her usually whimsical and tyrannical resolves, determined, as an appropriate punishment for the lovers, to marry her daughter to Sir Willoughby, whose match in town she had heard it confidently reported was off. Though he was but a baronet, his immense property made it at least an eligible marriage; and such, little as she cared about Caroline, she had always considered it a necessary part of etiquette some time or other to provide.
That Alfred, however, might ascribe Caroline's change to her own caprice, and be themore mortified, Lady Palliser took his arm, walked about with him for a considerable time, and treated him with more than her usual cordiality.
It had the desired effect, it threw him into complete despair; he could not now even console himself with the thought that Caroline was acting under the influence of her mother.
When the dancing had ceased, and Caroline was seated with her evidently delighted partner on a distant sofa, Lady Palliser led our hero up to her, and said, "Come, Caroline, I have no notion of giving up old friends for new ones altogether: you must dance one set with poor Alfred; do see how forlorn he looks."
Caroline was utterly confounded: had her mother forgiven them—was she going to relent.
Such happy thoughts, however, were soonscattered, for Lady Palliser, on pretext of arranging a stray ringlet, drawing very near, whispered, with a menacing frown, "Take care how you behave, and what you say." The frown and whisper destroying as they did the momentary hope, caused Caroline, on taking Alfred's arm, to look so much disappointed that it was impossible not to infer that she would rather have remained on the sofa. Yet Alfred could not bring himself to believe this! he was miserable, however, and did not know what to think; while he was so much occupied forming painful conjectures, that he himself behaved strangely and coldly.
Caroline thought with intense agony of the task she had to perform in the morning, while with a feeling allied to terror she stole from time to time a momentary glance at the featuresof him she must so soon mortally offend; to whom she must so soon give apparently just cause to view her henceforward with hatred and contempt. She even fancied that his countenance wore already a severity of expression she had never seen in it before. She bewildered herself too with the thought, that if she could get an opportunity and venture just to whisper, "Mr. Arden, don't mind any thing I am obliged to say to you in the morning," it might prevent his thinking so very very ill of her as he must otherwise do. This sentence she repeated to herself above an hundred times during the quadrille, yet whenever she was going to address it to Alfred, and more than once she moved her lips to begin, she either caught her mother's eye turned upon her, or she fancied it might be, and dared not look tosee lest it should give her a conscious and guilty appearance; or the impression that Alfred was already displeased became so strong as to deprive her of the courage to speak to him; besides all which, her heart at each abortive attempt she made to articulate, leaped up into her throat, and by its excessive fluttering quite choked her utterance, till the convenient moment was gone by. On the music ceasing, Lady Palliser came up and took her away, as if in great haste to make some arrangement, yet, in so obliging a manner, and with so many pretty excuses, that Alfred thought her ladyship at least was unchanged.
And so must Caroline, he told himself again and again; "it can be but fancy on my part, or rather, all that seems strange and altered in her manner must proceed from her extremedelicacy, her excessive timidity, her consciousness that we now perfectly understand each other's thoughts makes her fearful to meet my eye, at least with others present; makes her afraid that all the world will know the moment they see us together what is passing in our hearts. I can well imagine one so gentle, so young, so fearful, feeling the newness of her situation, almost as though she were already a bride; having listened but this very morning, for the first time in her life, I should suppose favourably, to the accent of a lover."
Alfred had wandered into the conservatory, where, amid the intoxicating odours of ten thousand exotics—pursuing this train of thought—he luxuriated for a time in dream-like meditations on the delicacy, the devotion, the exclusive tenderness, which must necessarily characterise the attachment of a being so pure, so innocent, so unpractised in the world's ways as Caroline—his Caroline! Yes, he was now entitled to combine with her idea this endearing epithet.
He was standing the while with his arms folded and his eyes unconsciously uplifted to a brilliant lamp, as if lost in contemplation of its brightness.
A change in the music broke his reverie; when his discerning vision passing along a vista of orange trees, found its way into the drawing-room, and fell on a group preparing to waltz. Among these, and occupying the very spot hallowed to memory by the interview of the morning, he beheld Caroline standing with the arm of Willoughby round her slender waist, and her hand resting on his shoulder—a moment after the couple had launched amid the tide of changing forms; but Alfred's eye still traced them as they floated round and round the prescribed circle, till, what with the moving scene, and his own thoughts of agony, his brain went round also. He had never been able to prevail with Caroline to waltz, her plea of refusal had always been that she did not waltz. Was she then changed in every sentiment—in every opinion—in every feeling! Had she become hardened to the world—lost to personal delicacy—lost to affection—lost to him! What had she—what had she not become! and all within a few short hours.