Her words were like a stream of honey fleeting,The which doth softly trickle from the hive,Able to melt the hearer's heart unweetingAnd eke to make the dead again alive.
Much like an angel in all form and fashion.SPENSER.
Margaret was welcomed to Ashdale with such sincere pleasure by Mr. Grey and her Italian greyhound, that she could not find it in her heart to regret the social circle she left behind. Seated in a low chair by her uncle's side, with Gessina on her lap, she spent the evening alternately in playing with her beautiful pet, and of giving him a history of her week's visit.
Mr. Grey, like many people who live very retired, delighted in this species ofgossip. He was pleased to hear the names of the people who dined at Captain Gage's during her stay, and the dresses which Margaret had worn on each day. And if, during her narrative, she happened to mention a name that was familiar to him, he would interrupt her to remark that he had known a person of that name many years ago, who was of such a county; and to wonder whether the one Margaret had met, was related or not, to his old acquaintance.
These episodes were sometimes interrupted by the perverseness of Gessina, who would creep under the sofas, or the heavy chairs, and had to be fished out from these hiding places by the united industry of Mr. Haveloc and Margaret.
These little pursuits seemed to bring them still more acquainted, so that sometimes she ventured to appeal to him during her recollections to confirm her statements.
"And so she lost the ball at last, poorchild," said Mr. Grey drawing her towards him. "What a pity that was!"
"Oh, yes uncle! I was very sorry at first. But I had such a head-ache. Do you ever smoke cigars, Mr. Haveloc?"
"I have done such a thing," said he smiling. "But it is not a practice of mine."
"And how did you spend that evening, my love?" said Mr. Grey, who had not perceived the connexion between the ball and the cigars.
"I sat talking with Harriet Conway until I went to bed. Do you know Harriet, Sir?"
"I have not seen her, my dear, since she was a child," said Mr. Grey.
"Oh! She is so handsome, Sir. Is she not, Mr. Haveloc? I think she was the handsomest girl in the party, except Bessy, I hardly know which to say."
"Which do you decide for, Claude?" asked Mr. Grey.
Mr. Haveloc paused a little, glanced atMargaret with a smile, and said that he should not have considered either of those ladies the beauty of the party. He had hardly noticed Miss Harriet Conway, but if he recollected her, she had fine eyes.
Margaret felt embarrassed for a moment, but feeling sure that his remark could not have referred to her in any way, she let the subject pass, and continued her account.
"The flower-show was very delightful, Sir. There was a band of music, and such a beautiful display of plants. Captain Gage's gardener had a prize for hyacinths. Do you know, Sir, that four of my hyacinths are blown in my dressing-room? I think I shall bring them down into the drawing-room."
"Do, my love," said Mr. Grey.
"Bessy knew a great many people there, Sir; but Mr. Gage said he was bored. I wished he had not come with us. And Mr. Hubert frightened me, for he declared he was going to steal a clusterof the flowers for Harriet and I; and there would have been such a scene!"
"And what did Miss Harriet say to that?" asked Mr. Grey.
"Oh! she laughed, and encouraged him," said Margaret. "But I think it was only to put me in a fright; and just then, Bessy came up, and asked if we would go, because Mr. Gage was so tired of it all."
"And did you have any more visitors afterwards?" asked Mr. Grey.
"Yes. Two foreigners, the Marquis de——, (a very long name that I cannot remember), and his son. They talked Spanish with Harriet, and French with the others. Mr. Hubert used always to contrive that I should sit next one of them, that I might be obliged to speak French."
"Hubert is rather mischievous, is he not?" said Mr. Grey.
"Oh! yes, Sir; but very good-natured; and so is Captain Gage. We went everyday to see something or other. Once we went to hear service in the Cathedral. I was so glad that Mr. Gage was not of the party that morning. I wish, Mr. Haveloc, you would go on reading."
"I will, indeed," said he, taking up his book. "Only I have some curiosity to know first, why you do not like George Gage?"
"You should not listen, Mr. Haveloc. One cannot like every body in the world—though I did not say I disliked him."
"The Gages are all handsome," said Mr. Grey, musing. "George called on me one day last week. I think it must have been the day you went to the Cathedral. He said the ladies were out sight-seeing. I was very glad to see him; and I took it kind, his coming to a dull house like this, to pay a visit to a poor invalid."
"Kind, indeed!" exclaimed Margaret, her beautiful face all in a glow. "I think he ought to feel much pleasure in seeing an old friend again. I recollect Mr. Hubertcame directly to see you, and he often talks of your kindness to him when a boy."
Mr. Grey laughed, and patted her on the head. "Well, you like Hubert the best it seems," he said. "But now tell me how you passed your evenings when you were alone."
"That was the pleasantest time, Sir. After dinner we went into Bessy's sitting-room; and one day, Harriet showed me how to make wreaths and trimmings of natural flowers. Bessy had a large basket gathered for us, and I wore them that evening; and then, Harriet is so clever, she used to give us descriptions of the people who live near Singleton Manor, and make us die of laughing. She can talk like the poor people in Somersetshire. And then Mr. Hubert used to come in before tea-time, and sometimes he would roast chestnuts on the bars of the grate—and we ate them, Harriet and I. Bessy could never persuade him to have themdone by the housekeeper. And after tea, we had always plenty of music, for Captain Gage likes music so much. And one evening Mr. Hubert would have a twelfth cake, because he had not been at home for so many Twelfth Nights; and Bessy was obliged to get one made on purpose at S——. And I was the Queen, uncle! Captain Gage drew the King, and would not give it up to Mr. Hubert. You should have seen Mr. Gage, uncle. He was obliged to join in it all, half against his will; and Harriet laughed at him so much for being grand."
"And so you passed a merry time of it;" said Mr. Grey.
"Very, Sir. But I was very glad to drive up the old avenue again, and see you and Gessina. Do you know, Sir, Mason said that as soon as Gessina heard the carriage she was wild to get down stairs."
"Was she, my love?" said Mr. Grey. There was a pause.
Mr. Grey fell asleep, Margaret caressedher dog, and Mr. Haveloc made a sketch of her attitude in the fly-leaf of his book.
At last Margaret looked up.
"Oh! Mr. Haveloc, you have been to Italy. Do you not allow Gessina to be a beauty? Blanche Somerton said I ought to have had a white greyhound."
"She is a very pretty creature," said Mr. Haveloc, coming over to her side of the fire. "I believe the white ones are more expensive, which is quite sufficient to account for some people's preference."
"Oh! I do not care about that. I like this fawn colour. I declare I never saw such a beautiful head. Bessy says that the next time I go to Chirke Weston, I am to be sure and take her with me."
"Miss Gage is always considerate," said Mr. Haveloc.
"I know you think very highly of her," said Margaret colouring, "because you once advised me to consult her; and I think, in that affair, her opinion was very like yours."
Mr. Haveloc smiled, and remained silent, watching Margaret, whose attitudes rivalled those of her greyhound in beauty.
"Mr. Haveloc," said Margaret, looking up again, and blushing, "what were you drawing just now?"
"So, you have some curiosity," he said, smiling.
"Because," she said timidly, "I should not wonder if you were drawing Gessina—and—I wish you would show it to me—if you were."
"With pleasure. I will just put a few more touches. You will not be satisfied if it is not a very flattering likeness."
"Have you done, Mr. Haveloc?"
"Not quite."
"Will you show it me presently, Mr. Haveloc? Will you show it me now?"
"You do not give me time to do my best," said he, as he handed her a sheet of note paper, on which he had just made a pretty little sketch of the greyhound.
"Oh, how exactly like! How very pretty! May I keep it, Mr. Haveloc?"
"If you please—I shall be too happy."
"I wish my uncle was awake," said Margaret looking towards him. "I should like to show it to him. I wonder if he would know it directly. I dare say he would!"
"Not a doubt of it," said Mr. Haveloc, "all Italian greyhounds are alike. Any picture of an Italian greyhound would do for your dog. Do you wish me to wake Mr. Grey, that he may decide the question?"
"Oh, no! what are you thinking of? People should never be wakened."
"Will you tell me now, why you do not like George Gage?"
"What, have you not forgotten that yet? Well I will tell you one reason. Because he stares so much."
Mr. Haveloc laughed. "I really did not think," he said, "that ladies resented that offence, so strongly. Fortunately I cannot offend in thatway, since I am half blind."
"I wish Mr. Gage was near-sighted," said Margaret laughing, "he is quite mistaken if he thinks ladies like to be stared at; even Harriet, who does not care for many things, told him one evening that it made her quite nervous to have him opposite when she was singing, looking into her mouth like a dentist."
"And when do you mean to ride out?" said Mr. Haveloc.
"Oh! do you know I had quite forgotten my horse," exclaimed Margaret, "Uncle Grey!—There I have waked him at last."
"What is it, my love?" said Mr. Grey looking up.
"Miss Capel is so dismayed at having waked you," said Mr. Haveloc laughing.
"Oh! I was not asleep," said Mr. Grey rubbing his eyes, "I have been listening to all you have been saying."
Mr. Haveloc and Margaret exchanged smiles.
"Will you let me ride out to-morrow, dear uncle?"
"Yes, my love; you are quite sure of the horse, Claude. If somebody would go out first, just to try him; or if you have no engagement to-morrow, Claude, perhaps you would go with Margaret and Evans, just to see that all is right for the first time. Evans is a very steady man; afterwards I could trust him with comfort."
No one could mistake the delight that was visible on Mr. Haveloc's countenance at this proposition. He could not have asked to ride out with her, but here was a reason—a sufficient cause. "Nothing could give him more pleasure," he said, "he begged to know what time would suit Miss Capel, that he might be in the way."
Anybody but Mr. Grey would have noticed the impatience with which Mr. Haveloc looked forward to this ride: any one else would have been aware that it was some strong feeling that could make soordinary an occurrence a matter of so much importance to him.
Margaret never spent the morning in the library with them; and Mr. Haveloc settled to nothing; he neither read nor wrote, but wandered about the room, sometimes watching the weather, and sometimes glancing over the newspaper. But Mr. Grey having provided for Margaret's safety, forgot the subject altogether, and spent his time in puzzling over his steward's accounts, and cutting the leaves of a new review without taking any note of his companion's idleness. And when Margaret did make her appearance, looking beautiful with excitement, and he hastened to meet her, Mr. Grey followed him to the hall door giving him a string of cautions, which any third person could have told him was quite unnecessary in the present instance. He was quite eager enough to examine the girths and the curb, and to prevent her horse from going too fast.
It was a beautiful day; the trees werejust out and the young leaves trembled in the bright sunshine. There was that peculiar fragrance in the air, which results from the opening buds in shrubs and hedges; and in some places, the sweet breath of violets seemed to linger on the soft wind, mingled with the fresh scent of dewy tufts of moss.
Margaret had no fear, and the paces of her horse were so easy, that she felt no fatigue. Mr. Haveloc took the greatest care of her, and exerted himself to amuse her so effectually, that she was really sorry when her ride was concluded. Whether she would have enjoyed it quite as much with the groom, for her sole attendant, is a question that she had no present opportunity of solving; for Mr. Haveloc told Mr. Grey that he thought her horse went best in company, and that while he remained at Ashdale, he was entirely at the service of Miss Capel whenever she chose to ride out.
But who can tell what cause had that fair maidTo use him so that loved her so well?Or who with blame can justly her upbraidFor loving not? For who can love compel?SPENSER.
It was customary with Mr. Grey to pass his mornings in the library unless some very particular business caused him to take refuge in his study. He was fond of desultory reading, and was accomplished in the knowledge of several modern languages. Mr. Haveloc usually employed himself at the other end of the room, without any reference to Mr. Grey's occupations; reading with as much eagerness upon any subject that happened to engage his attention, as if he were still a candidate foracademic honours.
They seldom exchanged a remark during these hours, unless Mr. Grey suddenly became alarmed at the steadfastness of his young friend's application, when he would favour him with some of those cautions, which he was in the habit of addressing to Margaret, regarding the injurious effect of too much study.
One morning a letter was brought to Mr. Grey, which he opened and looked at with some surprise, glanced at the signature, and exclaimed, "From Hubert Gage! How extraordinary! Why could not the silly fellow come and say what he wanted, instead of writing it?"
Mr. Haveloc looked up at the unwonted interruption, and seeing Mr. Grey reading his letter with many sounds of impatience and vexation, he could not avoid "hoping that there was no bad news from Chirke Weston."
"No; not bad news," said Mr. Greylaying down his letter and his reading glasses upon it, and leaning back in his chair, as if quite tired out: "not exactly bad news."
This remark was, perhaps, rather calculated to excite than to gratify his curiosity; but Mr. Haveloc resumed his reading without farther inquiry, and Mr. Grey remained for some time in deep thought.
At last Mr. Grey looked up, and turned round to his companion.
"A very strange thing, Claude," said he. "I am sure, as far as I am concerned, the most unlooked-for occurrence. Here is Hubert Gage proposing for my little niece, Margaret—a mere baby!"
Mr. Haveloc started from his chair, made a step or two towards Mr. Grey, and then returned quietly to his seat, and made a great show of finding the place in his book again.
"Yes, it is very remarkable," said Mr. Grey, who had interpreted Mr. Haveloc's sudden movement into an expression ofsurprise; "I could never have foreseen it. And really, Hubert Gage, a mere boy! Of course the connexion is highly honourable, impossible to be better; but at their age. Not that anything can be more fair and manly than his letter; but if he has Captain Gage's consent to fetter himself by an engagement of this kind before he is one and twenty years old—why his father has not half the sense I gave him credit for."
Mr. Haveloc was silent.
"Yet poor young fellow," said Mr. Grey, taking up his letter, "if he is in love as he says he is, perhaps all this impatience is more natural in him than in an older man. And although this love is very often a source of great inconvenience, yet we all look back to that period, whether successful or not, as to the most spiritual, and the happiest portion of our lives. Faith, I will do all I can for him in the business."
"And Miss Capel," said Mr. Haveloc, speaking with effort.
"Oh! for her, poor little girl, I dare sayshe fancies herself attached to him. For I have often remarked, Claude, that when a handsome and agreeable young man pays a great deal of attention to an inexperienced girl, it generally ends in this way; first impressions are everything. And you heard her telling me the other night that Hubert used to roast chestnuts for her, and all that sort of thing. I dare say it is all for the best."
Mr. Haveloc made no reply. A dark frown settled on his face, and he leaned his head on his hands, seeming to be immersed in the folio volume that stood on a desk before him.
"If," he thought, "the love of a creature like Margaret can hinge upon such wretched trifles, why let it go. If she can love him, why should I regret her?"
Yet he felt that all he was worth would be too little to purchase such affection as hers would be, where it was freely given.
Both parties were silent for some time. Mr. Grey forgot the presence of Mr. Haveloc, so entirely was he engrossed withthe subject on his mind; and he was employing himself in making a mental estimate of the amount of Margaret's and Hubert's property, and the sum he meant to add to it, when he heard her voice and step in the drawing-room, half-dancing, half-singing, as she came near the library. The sounds ceased as she turned the handle of the door, and she entered with the most demure expression in the world.
"Uncle Grey, may I have the carriage after luncheon, if you please, to go to S—," said she advancing to him, "for I have broken my guitar string—this silver one, and I cannot play till I have got another."
"Yes, my love, certainly," said Mr. Grey, drawing her towards him, "are you busy now?"
"No; this is the last piece of business I have done," said Margaret laughing, and showing him the string, which she was twining round her fingers, "a very bad business; you cannot think how it startled me when it snapped."
"Have you learned that song which Hubert Gage gave you?" asked Mr. Grey.
"The Neapolitan one? Oh, yes! it is very easy;" said Margaret, singing one or two bars in a low tone, "Mr. Hubert thinks himself so fine because he can play that air on the guitar. It is the only tune he can play."
"Well, my love," said her uncle, "I have had a letter from Hubert Gage this morning. You may read it, if you will."
As he spoke, he put the letter into her hands. He entirely forgot that Mr. Haveloc was in the room; and even had he recollected it, he would have taken it for granted, that sitting at such a distance, and engaged in reading so closely, his presence would have been no drawback to the conversation he wished to hold with his niece. Margaret, standing with her back to him, never perceived him at all; and for Mr. Haveloc, he never imagined that Mr. Grey would have done more than give Margaret the letter, and recommend her to read it ather leisure. He could not leave the room, except by passing Margaret; and he thought the sight of him would embarrass her while conversing on such a subject, therefore he remained where he was. And an intense curiosity to learn how she would receive such tidings, held him, breathless and motionless, until she left the room.
Margaret read the letter through attentively, and steadily, the crimson deepening every moment all over her face, and then looking up straight to her uncle as she returned it, she said:
"I am glad you will have to answer this letter, uncle, instead of me, since I have no practice in these matters; and it is unpleasant to be obliged to say—no."
"But, my dear child," said Mr. Grey, quite puzzled at receiving a reply so totally different to what he had expected, "what objection have you in the world to such a fine fellow as Hubert Gage?"
"He does not love me, uncle, that is one objection," said Margaret with a slight smile; "and I am sure I do not love him."
"Why, my child," said Mr. Grey, "what, do you suppose can induce a man to make you an offer, if he is not in love with you?"
"A great many reasons, uncle. I will not suppose that all the married people in the world who are so indifferent, or unhappy, have once loved each other. In my case, I can acquit Mr. Hubert of any interested motives. It is a passing fancy of his."
"But, my dear—time—you do not know how attached you might become to him. You would not like to give pain to the poor young man."
"Uncle," said Margaret, looking steadily into his face. "I must love a person a little, before I would suffer pain myself, rather than occasion it to him. I would do so for you, or Elizabeth, but not for Mr. Hubert Gage, I tell you frankly. If I thought he really loved me, I should be grieved and pained at the necessity of wounding his feelings; but, as it is, I am only ashamed, that he should have singled me out as the object of so trifling, so fleeting a regard."
"But, my dear little girl," persisted Mr. Grey, "what on earth can have put it into your head, that he does not love you?"
"Little things, uncle, that it would not be easy to put into words. It may seem vain, Sir, but at one time I was afraid he meant to pay me particular attention. A very little observation set me at rest on that point. I am young, and do not know much; but this is a matter of feeling, and not of knowledge. I am old enough to feel that he has made a mistake."
"Well, my love," said Mr. Grey, "I do not understand it:" he folded and unfolded the letter in his hand for some moments, and at last went on.
"You must reflect a little, my dear. This young man is of good family; highly connected, and, in the event of your marrying him, you would find yourself in as good a circle of connexions and acquaintances as you could possibly desire. He has something, and so have you. I would come forward, and I have no doubt his fatherwould come forward; and you could be able to keep a carriage, and have every comfort about you."
"I am afraid, uncle," said Margaret, smiling, "that I am not old enough to appreciate these advantages."
Her uncle paused again. "He will not be satisfied, my dear, with my reply. What do you say to seeing him yourself?"
"I had rather not, uncle," said Margaret blushing still more deeply. "It is rather embarrassing—it is not agreeable to discuss this subject, even with you, Sir."
"Well, my dear," said Mr. Grey, "we will see about it; but I can tell you the young man will not give it up so quietly, if you have not another attachment."
"I can understand that such a question concerns him," said Margaret, with a faltering in her voice; "and, therefore, if you please, you can tell him I am free in that respect; but if I am free, uncle, I need not choose a person whom I do not like."
"The idea of not liking Hubert Gage!" said Mr. Grey.
"I do like him, uncle, as an acquaintance, and shall do so, if he does not teaze me; but, as a suitor—why, Uncle Grey," said Margaret brightening up, "he will forget all about me now, before I forget him, though he does profess a regard for me that I cannot return."
"Well, my love," said Mr. Grey, "you shall act exactly as your feelings dictate; but it is an awkward business I can tell you, all this proposing and rejecting."
"Thank you, dear uncle," said Margaret leaning forward, and kissing him on the forehead. "But—I may have the carriage all the same, Sir, may I not, to go for my guitar string?"
"Oh! poor Hubert Gage," said Mr. Grey leaning back, as Margaret left theroom, and looking very much exhausted. "If she can think of her guitar string at such a time, I am afraid there is a remarkably small chance for the young gentleman."
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,My will to her consent is but a part;An she agree, within her scope of choiceLies my consent and fair according voice.SHAKESPEARE.
Which when he heard, he inly touched wasWith tender ruth for her unworthy griefe;And having cheered her, thus said; Faire DameIn evils, counsell is the comfort chiefe,Which though I be not wise enough to frame,Yet as I well it meane, vouchsafe it without blame.SPENSER.
As soon as Margaret had closed the door after her, Mr. Haveloc drew a long breath, like one relieved from an oppressive state of suspense; and remained for a short time in hesitation as to what his next step should be. His admiration of Margaret had risenwith every word that she had spoken; and had he followed the impulse of the moment, he would, more than once, have interrupted the even progress of the dialogue by rushing forward and throwing himself at her feet. He was delighted, and penetrated with the clear judgment, and the beautiful simplicity of character which she evinced. He resolved, with all the determination of a sufficiently wilful character, that he would spare no exertion to obtain her affection; and as a preliminary, which her youth rendered a matter of honour and propriety, he determined to demand the sanction of her uncle to his addresses, before he could attempt to engage the regard of Margaret. But just at this moment, that Mr. Grey had been so annoyed by the application of Hubert Gage, he felt a reluctance to enter upon the subject. Still there was no time to be lost. Margaret might receive another offer any day—it was as well to be early in the field. While he was making up his mind to this effect, Mr. Grey turned to thetable, and searched among the papers heaped in confusion around him, for his writing-case, that he might dispatch an answer to Hubert Gage; saying, as he took a sheet of paper for that purpose, "I do not know what to think—I cannot understand it all. I don't believe the child knows her own mind."
"I am sorry to interrupt you, Sir," said Mr. Haveloc, coming hastily forward, "still more sorry to demand your attention on my behalf at a time when you are engrossed by a disagreeable subject."
"Why it is disagreeable, Claude," said Mr. Grey, looking up and laying down his pen, "I never anticipated any objection on her side. Did you, now?"
"I never anticipated such a proposal," said Mr. Haveloc, "I imagined that every one would have considered, as I did, that Miss Capel was too young to receive such addresses."
"So she is," returned Mr. Grey, "but if I say so to Hubert, his answer will naturallybe that he will wait until she is older; now that is an answer that I think would not exactly meet her wishes."
Mr. Haveloc bowed his head.
"And," pursued Mr. Grey, "when there is not a single objection that can be urged against a man; it is rather difficult to give him a reason that shall dissuade him from continuing his suit."
"There is one reason that should content any man," said Mr. Haveloc, "indifference."
"It is the last that does content them, though," said Mr. Grey, taking up his pen and looking earnestly at it, "they think it is so easy to overcome it. They are a very singular race," said he—speaking of lovers as he would of Albinoes, or Cingalese, or other strange beings—"they have a great many troublesome peculiarities; sometimes so pertinacious; at other times so easily discouraged. And here is a match which, a few years hence, would be all I could desire for my niece; and the little romanticcreature absolutely throws the chance away. Not that I would influence her decision one way or other; Heaven forbid. But you were going to say something or other, Claude. Have you heard any thing farther from your tenant at Tynebrook?"
"I was about to trouble you upon a subject far more interesting to myself," said Mr. Haveloc, hesitating.
He had never felt so embarrassed in his life. It seemed to him that in everything but the mere accident of fortune, Hubert Gage was his superior. That he had the advantage in person, in manner, in that gaiety of disposition which is so generally attractive and endearing; that his character was unimpeached, and that he belonged to a profession which of itself would render him an object of interest to an Englishwoman. If Margaret had rejected this suitor, how could he expect to make a deeper impression on her heart?
It need not be said that this condition of feeling is very rare in the nobler sex, andmay be accounted for by the want of confidence which is said ever to accompany an earnest and engrossing passion.
Mr. Grey looked anxiously at his young friend; awaiting his disclosure with much curiosity.
"I feel at this moment," said Mr. Haveloc, endeavouring to speak with great composure, and failing signally in the attempt, "so very unworthy of the favour I am about to ask you, that it is with a painful sense of reluctance I proceed."
"I am sure, Claude, anything in the world that I can do for you," said Mr. Grey, growing still more puzzled as he marked Mr. Haveloc's evident embarrassment; "only," he added with a smile, "I hope you are not in love, because, as you see, in such a case I have no power at all."
"I think, Sir," said Mr. Haveloc quietly, "it would be difficult for any one to avoid that weakness, who had the happiness of being long in Miss Capel's society. I must confess myself entirely engrossed by thehope of one day obtaining her affection; and my present anxiety is to gain your sanction to my pursuit."
Mr. Grey's blank, uplifted look of amazement can hardly be expressed. It was in vain to expect an immediate answer, for at first he could not really comprehend that a second application had been made to him for the hand of his niece: but Mr. Haveloc interpreted his silence into a reluctance to entrust Margaret to his care. His thoughts reverted immediately to his conduct at Florence, and he remained silent, and pale with anger and confusion.
After a pause of a few moments, Mr. Grey reached out his hand to him. "This gives me great pleasure, Claude," he said. "How it will turn out, is another matter. But you have my free consent, if that is of any use. But," he continued, interrupting the thanks which his companion was beginning to pour out, "I consider this quite a subject for the future. There is no hurry."
"Good Heaven, Sir, no hurry!" said Mr. Haveloc, "when every one that sees Miss Capel—"
"My dear Claude," said Mr. Grey smiling, "I am likely to be a little partial to my own niece; but I see plainly how it is. With Hubert Gage—poor fellow, I am very sorry for him—she was the first pretty girl he saw on his return; and sailors are proverbial for falling in love, and out of it, fortunately. There is no danger that she should be more sought in general society than other girls of her age and fortune. In a year's time you will find her just where you left her, depend upon it."
"And am I to leave her now, Sir, in all this uncertainty," exclaimed Mr. Haveloc, "and for a year. Good Heaven! Was there ever such a probation demanded of any one? A year, Sir! In half that time, I may learn she is married to some one else."
"My good friend, your imagination is now rather active," said Mr. Grey. "No.I do not bid you leave her until, whether soon or late, you have ascertained that she returns your regard, or that you become convinced that you cannot obtain it. Then it is my wish that you separate for a year; and if before that time has expired," he continued with a smile, "she is married to some one else, you will be willing to confess, Claude, that your loss has not been very great."
"Good Heaven!" exclaimed Mr. Haveloc again, gazing vacantly forward, as if a year was a period without any known termination.
"Such is my wish, Claude," said Mr. Grey, "you are neither of you common characters; if you were, I might hasten the matter for fear either of you should change your minds, and so ensure to my niece a large property without the least apprehension for her future peace. But although the world rubs off all that is true and beautiful from most characters, it would take a great deal of such collision to destroythe simplicity of her disposition; therefore, I wish that she should have the opportunity which a frequent intercourse with society gives, to make a selection, as freely as if you had not a hundred pounds in the world. Let her acceptance of you be a choice in the true acceptation of the word, a distinction of you from other people. And I have the same feeling with regard to yourself. You may not be altogether satisfied that you have obtained a beautiful child; you may feel, after a time, that you require the companionship of a more mature mind. It is, therefore, absolutely necessary that you should try if the impression will stand the test of absence."
"Impossible, Sir!" exclaimed Mr. Haveloc; "of all torments in the world, to put off—to forego—the uncertainty—you do not consider."
"I think, Claude," said Mr. Grey, looking at his breathless companion with a quiet smile, "that I consider this subject a little more leisurely than you do at this moment."
"I endeavour to regard the subject with all calmness," said Mr. Haveloc, trembling with impatience; "but I cannot make out the necessity for my undergoing so long an interval of misery as you would assign to me. Pardon me, but I cannot think you a competent judge of Miss Capel's perfections."
"Much obliged," said Mr. Grey, quietly.
"You are under no suspense," continued Mr. Haveloc. "No one can break the tie which subsists between you and your niece; and therefore you do not view her with the trembling admiration of one who fears to risk everything in the parting from her."
"She is a very nice little girl," said Mr. Grey, "I see that plainly enough."
"I feel myself very inadequate to pronounce an eulogy upon her exquisite beauty, either of person or mind," said Mr. Haveloc, colouring deeply with indignation at the phrase, 'A nice little girl.' "But no one living rates these perfections higher than I do. And I must confess my extreme reluctanceto leave them unguarded to any man who chooses to enter for the prize: any common fellow, who without sincerity and without tenderness, desires to possess what all must covet."
"Ought you not," said Mr. Grey who seemed quietly to enjoy the discussion, "ought you not to ascribe to your mistress a little discrimination among all her perfections?"
"By no means," said Mr. Haveloc, "it is no merit in a woman."
And here he spoke perfect truth; for of all qualities, it is the one which men dislike most bitterly in the fair sex. It is just possible that the greater number of them imagine that they should fare but badly in the opinion of women if they were not able to deceive them readily.
"Just put the fire together a little, Claude," said Mr. Grey, "I do not find that this talking is warm work."
Mr. Haveloc did as he was desired.
"Well now, I suppose you are contented," said Mr. Grey. "If you willring for a taper, I will write this letter; it is growing very dark. I wonder what o'clock it is in the name of goodness?"
"I am not contented, Sir, by any means," said Mr. Haveloc ringing the bell; "but it is nearly seven, and you will not be able to write till after dinner."
"Bless me, and I am not dressed," said Mr. Grey, who in all his solitude never omitted that ceremony.
"Nor I, Sir," said Mr. Haveloc.
"You a lover," said Mr. Grey laughing. "Why, even Benedict brushed his hat o' mornings."
"If you would spare me another minute," said Mr. Haveloc.
"I am sure, Claude," said Mr. Grey, "I have given you reasons enough. It is not my fault if you will not apply them."
"They are very excellent," said Mr. Haveloc; "but certainly an absence of six months would answer every purpose."
"Or three months," said Mr. Grey.
"Undoubtedly, Sir."
"Six weeks, perhaps."
"Any separation whatever, Sir. I need no trial. I can undergo no change; and you may imagine it is not a very agreeable prospect to me that Miss Capel is to be taken into society during my absence, and invited to select some one whom she may like better than myself."
"Well—well," said Mr. Grey, "you will see the advantage of it one day or other. And now I have no more time to spare; my man will think me dead as it is. Seven o'clock, I declare. Well, thank Heaven, these things do not happen every day!"
"Hello! a cabinet council!" exclaimed the well known voice of Mr. Casement; "let's make it a Council of Three. What is it all about? What not dressed, old gentleman? Then there's something in the wind, as sure as my name is Roger Casement. You had better tell me, for I shall besure to find it out. Has this young fellow been proposing for Miss Peggy?"
Mr. Haveloc flung himself out of the room in great disdain; and Mr. Grey taking up his candlestick, said "that he was really in a hurry, and that Mr. Casement would no doubt find his niece in the drawing-room."
Margaret was there, ready dressed, and in some wonder that her very punctual uncle had not yet appeared.
Mr. Casement entered, took his usual place on the hearth-rug, and nodded to Margaret, who returned his salutation in silence.
"What's the matter, little woman—been crying?" asked Mr. Casement.
"No, Sir," returned Margaret in some surprise.
"What have they been doing all the afternoon, in there—uncle and the young fellow. Eh?"
"I dare say they have been reading, Sir,"said Margaret, "my uncle was alone when I last saw him."
"Reading—bah!" said Mr. Casement; "I say, it is my belief that the young fellow is going to be married; eh?" And Mr. Casement stirred the fire, and watched her countenance by the blaze.
"It may be, Sir," said Margaret, with a quiet smile. "I am not in the secret."
"My old woman has got the rheumatism, so I am come to dine here," said Mr. Casement.
Margaret said she was sorry Mrs. Casement was suffering, and then there was a pause. Margaret played with her greyhound, and Mr. Casement whistled softly, and very much out of tune.
Mr. Haveloc was the first to make his appearance, he came up in a quiet serious manner to Margaret; apologized for being late, and said, that he had also to answer for Mr. Grey's delay, since he had detained him in the library talking of his affairs.
"I should not wonder if he had been gambling," said Mr. Casement in a soliloquy.
Mr. Haveloc never vouchsafed an answer to Mr. Casement's flattering remarks. He drew a chair near Margaret, and began to converse with her.
"What is he talking about, little woman?" asked Mr. Casement, after they had exchanged a few sentences in rather a low tone.
"Nothing, Sir," returned Margaret hastily.
"Faith! you are about right there," said Mr. Casement; "nothingis pretty much the amount of all the young fellows' speeches now a'days."
Mr. Haveloc started from his chair, and began to walk up and down the room. Mr. Casement followed his movements with a look of quiet satisfaction. He was never more entirely happy than when he had exasperated any one. As soon as tea was over, Mr. Grey said that he had aletter to write, which he could not put off, and that Mr. Casement must excuse him for half an hour.
"Some of your business, I suppose, Master Claude;" said that amiable gentleman nodding his head in the direction of the library.
"I write my own letters of business," said Mr. Haveloc shortly.
"What is come to you all I can't think," pursued Mr. Casement. "But I'll worm it out of Master Grey, that's my comfort. And what are you about little woman? Why don't you give us some music?"
"I am working a bag, Sir," said Margaret rising and laying it down "but I will play if you wish it."
"Do," said Mr. Casement, taking up the bag and examining it. "Mercy, how smart! Who is this for—eh?"
"For Miss Gage," said Margaret with a faultering voice; and as she spoke, she pressed her hand on her side, and sat down suddenly.
Mr. Haveloc, who was standing at the piano arranging her books, now hurried up to her.
"I am afraid you are ill," he said, "do not think of playing. You are quite unequal to the exertion. Do you find the room too hot?"
"It is hot," said Margaret, who seemed on the verge of bursting into tears. "I think, I will go to my uncle, or, perhaps, I shall interrupt him. I—"
"Poor little soul, she has no mother!" said Mr. Casement, whose sagacity had discerned that something unusual occupied the minds of the party; and whose coarse nature was not so destitute of feeling, but that he saw how distressing must be the situation of a young girl, at any important crisis of her life, without the guidance of an experienced female friend.
This remark which Mr. Haveloc feared would entirely destroy her composure, had a contrary effect. After a struggle of afew moments, she forced back her tears, and rose quietly up.
"I cannot play to you to-night," said she to Mr. Casement with a smile, "for I have a head-ache, and I am afraid my hand would not be very steady. Perhaps, Mr. Haveloc, you will be so kind as to wish my uncle good night for me."
She bowed her head, and was about to leave the room, but Mr. Haveloc hastened after her.
"Let me beg you not to leave us," he said, "if you take a few turns in the conservatory where the air is cooler you will find yourself better."
He led her as he spoke into the conservatory, which opened from the drawing-room; and Margaret finding it easier to say nothing, than to trust her voice with a reply, suffered him to do as he pleased. He drew her hand through his arm, and led her slowly up and down.
"You must permit me to prescribe foryou," said he gently, "for I think if there is anything that vexes you, you will feel less depressed in company than if you were to go up stairs and sit alone in your own room. For you have no companion—no—"
"No mother;" said Margaret, looking up into his face, with an expression of quiet sorrow that nearly upset all his plans; for had he then said all that he felt and hoped, he might have set out upon his travels the next morning.
"Are these your azalias?" said he, stopping before one of the stands, "they look very gay. Do you remember when you asked Mr. Grey for them; the first evening I came."
"Oh! do you recollect that, Mr. Haveloc!" said Margaret.
"I remember every particular of those few minutes you chose not to speak to me."
"Oh, Mr. Haveloc, you did not speak tome!" said Margaret, smiling, "and, ofcourse, strangers could not have any thing to say to each other."
"Have you read the book upon Etruria?" said Mr. Haveloc.
"Yes—long ago."
"And you were interested by it?"
"Oh! very much. It seems to me so strange that people should almost have forgotten the existence of such a nation, until lately; when these discoveries were made."
"Have you seen any account of the ruined cities in Central America?"
"No; what cities? Who built them?"
"There seems to be some doubt on that subject; but it is generally believed that these are the cities of the Mexicans which were actually depopulated by the Spaniards; and which now lie, temples, altars, and palaces, overrun with vegetation, and buried in forests."
"And are they in any state of preservation?"
"Almost as they were left by their owners;buildings of vast extent and elaborate workmanship. The work which has lately come out on this subject, is crowded with drawings, which give a perfect idea of these remains."
"I should like to see that book;" said Margaret.
"I shall have great pleasure in showing it to you. I have just been reading it," said Mr. Haveloc.
"And these Mexicans were then as civilized a people as the Etruscans?"
"More luxurious; but perhaps less artistical. There is a great deal of elegance in the Etruscan decorations."
"That is true. What a number of new things I have to learn. I did not know that any traces of those cities remained; and I believed there was a great deal of fiction in the accounts of the Spaniards."
"So did Robertson. He had been assured that there were no ruins in that part of the world; and the accounts of the Spanishinvaders were too magnificent to be believed without some confirmation."
"And who wrote this work?"
"An American named Stevens, who had displayed a great deal of enterprise and research. A singular occupation for one of that nation, for it was not a very likely means of earning dollars."
"Oh! there is a little prejudice in that remark, Mr. Haveloc," said Margaret. "PerhapsallAmericans do not love money better than anything in the world."
"I will attend to all the good advice you give me;" said Mr. Haveloc, smiling, "you warn me, in the present instance, not to indulge in national prejudices."
"Ah! you may well stare at finding me alone," said Mr. Casement; "the young ones—philandering in the green-house yonder."
"Oh! I forgot Mr. Casement," said Margaret, blushing.
"So did I, utterly," returned Mr.Haveloc, as he led Margaret back to the drawing-room.
Now Margaret's emotion had arisen from the idea which suddenly occurred to her, that Miss Gage might withdraw her friendship from her, on account of her rejection of Hubert Gage. But she found that she had greatly undervalued the calm and judicious mind of Elizabeth in attributing to her an injustice, which, however natural, no dispassionate person could consider reasonable.
She called on Margaret the next day, and the first words she spoke were, to assure her that she was not come to plead her brother's cause; but to insist that what had passed, should prove no interruption to their friendship. Most gladly did Margaret, with many tears, give her this promise.
Elizabeth was too considerate to question her upon the cause of her rejection; but Margaret was glad to talk the matter overwith her—to hope, and to be assured that she had done nothing wrong throughout the business.
Elizabeth could not charge Margaret with having ever given Hubert any more encouragement than circumstances had almost demanded: but to Margaret's repeated declarations, that Hubert felt no real attachment to her—though she smiled—she shook her head. She knew, that occasionally, a great deal of strong feeling exists beneath a gay and careless temperament. But she said, that her father was exerting himself to get Hubert a ship, and as soon as he was afloat again, she hoped that Margaret would be as much at Chirke Weston as before.
This conversation, which Margaret, full of joy and gratitude, repeated to Mr. Grey, was by him very speedily retailed to Mr. Haveloc; which relieved him of some apprehensions, that Margaret's agitation on the preceding evening had caused him,namely, that she had begun to repent the decision she had given her uncle on the subject of Hubert Gage.
This interview removed from Margaret, the only source of regret, which remained to her on that subject. Her uncle was all kindness, and never referred to her decision; and to crown her content, Mr. Casement, about this time followed the example of his "old woman," and was laid up for several weeks with an attack of rheumatism.
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON:Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.