CHAPTER I.
‘Once for all,’ exclaimed Mr Crampton, bringing down his broad fist heavily upon the table, ‘once for all, I tell you,I will not have it.’
At this terrible assertion, Mrs Crampton shivered as if she had been struck, and Aunt Clem silently dissolved into tears. Henry Hindes, of all the party, alone preserved his composure. He leaned back in his chair, carefully trimming his filbert nails with a penknife, as if the affair under discussion were not of the slightest moment.
‘Of course you will not have it,’ he said after a pause to Mr Crampton, ‘no man in his senses would. Mr Frederick Walcheren has money and good looks, but there his claims to admiration end. The first you do not require for your daughter, and the second would have no weight with anyone but a woman. To place against these supposed advantages, Mr Walcheren is a young man of dissolute habits, and lavish expenditure. You should hear what his cousin, Philip Walcheren, says of him.’
‘I want no one’s opinion but my own,’ replied Mr Crampton vehemently. ‘Jenny will have all my money by-and-by, and she shall marry no man that will make ducks and drakes of it. Besides, he isn’t good enough for her in any way. He thinks, I suppose, because his family have been a set of idle scoundrels for centuries past, while my progenitors have been working to support their children, that his is the better of the two, but I don’t see it. Besides, if he were the heir to the Crown, he shouldn’t have my daughter. He’s aRoman, that’s more than enough for me. I’ll have no Papists in my family. I hate the whole crew, with their cunning, underhand ways. If Jenny won’t give this Walcheren fellow over, I’ll lock her up on bread and water till she comes to her senses again.’
As neither of the ladies made any answer to this threat, Mr Hindes interfered again.
‘Surely,’ he said with an incredulous smile, ‘Miss Crampton will not dream of opposing your wishes in this particular, when so much depends upon her obedience. What can she see in this young man to attract her, above others of his kind; she who has a crowd of admirers wherever she goes, and is the acknowledged beauty of Hampstead? I believe, Crampton, that you are alarming yourself without cause. Miss Crampton means nothing serious. She is merely amusing herself with the sight of young Walcheren’s infatuation for her.’
‘It’s more than that,’ returned the older man; ‘I’ve forbidden the girl to dance withhim when she meets him out, or to receive him here during my absence. And now, her mother tells me, she met them riding together yesterday afternoon, and has intercepted a letter from him to Jenny, in which he writes as though they were promised to each other. What am I to do? I can’t be always at my daughter’s elbow, and her mother can’t go galloping all over the country after her. It is disgraceful to think that a young lady of twenty can’t be trusted to behave herself properly as soon as she is out of her parents’ sight!’
‘Don’t you think you are making rather a mountain out of a molehill?’ inquired Henry Hindes, in the same calm way. ‘Doubtless, Miss Crampton is young and thoughtless, and, if I may venture to say so—perhaps just a wee bit spoilt; but is that any reason that you should suspect her of impropriety? And, after all, is there anything wrong or unusual in a lovely girl being followed and persecuted by her admirers? Perhaps, if the truth were known,Miss Crampton might be as well pleased to get rid of Mr Walcheren as you would be.’
At this juncture, Mrs Crampton took heart of grace to put in her oar.
‘Oh, thank you, dear Mr Hindes!’ she exclaimed. ‘I am sure you are right. That is, I feel certain that Jenny cares no more for Mr Walcheren than for anyone else. She is a trifle wilful and does not brook contradiction well—I acknowledge that—and perhaps papa and I have spoilt her a little; she is such a darling, you know, that it is very difficult not to spoil her—but she would never really oppose our wishes. Papa has only to speak to her—’
‘Nonsense!’ interposed Mr Crampton gruffly. ‘I have spoken to her a dozen times already, and she laughs in my face and disobeys me as soon as my back is turned. But this business has gone far enough, and I mean to put a stop to it. Where is the girl?’ he continued, turning to his wife; ‘go and tell her I wish to speak to her at once!’
‘My dear, she has not risen yet. I do not suppose she is awake!’
‘And it is past eleven,’ said her husband.
‘Yes; but remember how late she was up last night. I don’t think we were home till past two o’clock.’
‘Whilst she was dancing with this young jackanapes, I conclude, and letting him make eyes at her! Well! it is for the last time, I can tell Miss Jenny that! If she disobeys me again, I’ll take her right away from Hampstead, and she shall never see it till the fellow’s dead, or married. No Papistical grandchildren for me! I can tell her that!’
‘Oh, Mr Crampton!’ cried his wife, with affected horror.
‘Yes, it is “Oh! Mr Crampton,”’ repeated the old man angrily, mimicking her thin tones, ‘and it’ll be “Oh! Mrs Crampton,” if you don’t take care. It’s more than half your fault! You should look better after your daughter, and then these unpleasantries wouldn’t happen. But you let her have her own way in everything. Shejust rules you and Miss Bostock, and then you leave me to rectify your errors. It isn’t fair on either me or the child!’
Mrs Crampton and her sister, Miss Bostock, familiarly known as Aunt Clem, were now weeping in concert.
‘I am sure,’ sobbed the mother, ‘I’ve done everything in my power, short of turning Mr Walcheren out of doors, to prevent his calling here so often, because I knew you didn’t wish it, John. Last time he came I would not order up tea, until Jenny made such a point of it that I could not refuse. And when the dear child rides, or drives, you know it is impossible for me to supervise her actions.’
‘You should go with her,’ grumbled her husband.
‘Oh! dear! I wouldn’t sit behind those cobs of hers for all the world! It frightens me to see her drive them. And she won’t come out in the barouche with Aunt Clem and me. She laughs at the very idea. She is so very high-spirited,you see. She must have her own way in everything!’
‘Well, go and fetch her here,’ said Mr Crampton shortly; ‘I must speak to her before I go to town.’
‘But if she is not dressed, my dear,’ remonstrated his wife.
‘Tell her to dress at once and come to me! Now, no nonsense, or I’ll pull her out of bed myself.’
The two women flew from the room to prevent so awful a contingency, and the men were left alone. They were partners in the well-known firm of Messrs Hindes & Crampton, wool-staplers in the city.
Henry Hindes, although much the younger of the two, was head of the business, having inherited his share through the death of his father. He was a man of about five or seven and thirty, smooth and solid looking, but much more polished in manners and appearance than his partner. His fair, thin hair was parted in the middle, and combed close to his head. He possessed a powerful brain and a good knowledgeof business. His blue eyes, straight thick nose, and smiling mouth, gave him a benevolent and cordial look, which made him a favourite in society. He was always perfectly dressed, and was proud of his white hands and filbert nails.
People who wished to do business with the firm, always preferred to see the senior partner to the junior, because the former was sosuaveand courteous, and the latter so rough and curt.
But Mr Crampton was the tenderer-hearted man of the two, though he did not show it so much. His private purse-strings were always open to help a disabled workman, or to head a subscription for the widows and orphans of those who were removed by death. He was a man of strong views, however, and a somewhat obstinate temperament, and this business of his daughter and Mr Frederick Walcheren had disturbed him very much. A Scotchman by birth, and brought up as a Nonconformist, he had a righteous horror of Popery, and everything connected withit. On this account alone he had, from the first, discountenanced the acquaintanceship of Mr Walcheren with his family; and to find that his daughter had, in express opposition to his wishes, made an intimate friend of the young man, wounded him in his tenderest point. He sat very gloomy and silent after his wife and sister-in-law had left the room, and Mr Hindes tried his utmost to make him regard the matter in a more hopeful light. For years he had been as intimate in the domestic circle of the Crampton family, as he was with his partner in the city, and was regarded as their nearest friend by them all.
‘This is a matter that only requires a few words of explanation to set it right, Crampton,’ he remarked, ‘so it’s no use looking so black about it. You must allow that you and your wife have rather given Miss Jenny her own way, and naturally she clings to it. But she loves you both too much to wilfully oppose you.’
‘I hope so, I hope so!’ replied the old man. ‘But spoilt children are not always the most grateful, Hindes. I trust that Jenny may listen, as you say, to reason, but I would rather appeal to the young man himself. Perhaps, if he knew that we will never give our consent to her marrying a Papist, he might see the advisability of giving up the pursuit.’
‘I will speak to him, if you empower me to do so,’ said Hindes, eagerly. ‘He is sure to be at the Bouchers’ dance to-night. I did not intend to go, but I believe Hannah wishes to do so, and the opportunity will be an excellent one, particularly if Miss Crampton is to be there, and carries out your prohibition with respect to dancing with him. He will sulk and sit out, and I shall be able to give him a hint as to your disapproval of his suit.’
‘Do so, Hindes, and I shall be exceedingly obliged to you,’ replied Mr Crampton. ‘And, if that fails, we must take Jenny away, for, by hook or by crook, I am determined to shake that young fellow off.’
‘Hannah is going with the little ones to Broadstairs next week. What do you say to Miss Crampton accompanying her? You know how fond my wife is of your daughter, and she would watch over her like a mother. At all events, it is worth thinking of.’
‘It would be a capital plan,’ said Mr Crampton; ‘but why are you going?’
‘Because it is time one of us was at the office, my dear fellow; and, since you are about to speak to your daughter on this subject, it is just as well I should be out of the way. I shall see you later in the afternoon, but don’t hurry on my account. And I shall not forget to speak to Mr Walcheren this evening. I shall not spare him, I promise you, but lay it on as thick as I know how, and, if he doesn’t like it, he must do the other thing. By the way, I know the cousin, Philip Walcheren, as well as their mutual director, Father Tasker, so, if the young man won’t hear reason, I will appeal to them. There is one convenience about these Papists, you can generally wield them through their directors.’
‘Yes, the silly fools!’ said Crampton contemptuously. ‘They’re afraid to say their lives are their own if the priests say they’re not. Pooh! call themmen. They’re more like a flock of silly sheep, who run baa-ing after their shepherd.’
‘In that case,’ replied Mr Hindes, smiling, ‘I’m afraid Mr Frederick Walcheren must be one of the lost sheep, for, from all I hear, he does not trouble the church, nor the director of his conscience much. But I’ll do my level best to bring him to hear reason in this instance.Au revoir.’
And, with a nod and a smile, he was gone.
‘He’s a true friend,’ thought Mr Crampton to himself, as he took up theTimes, and tried to possess his soul in patience until the appearance of his daughter.
Meanwhile, Mrs Crampton and Miss Bostock were making their way, timidly, towards the young lady’s bedroom. In the ante-chamber they encountered her maid, employed in sewing.
‘Is Miss Crampton awake yet, Ellen?’ demanded her mother.
‘Oh! no, ma’am, I haven’t heard a sound of her, and she begged me particularly not to call her till she rung. She was terrible tired, she said, and didn’t wish to be disturbed.’
‘I’m sorry, Ellen, but I’m afraid I must wake her now. It’s past eleven, and her papa particularly wishes to see her before he leaves for the city,’ replied Mrs Crampton.
‘Oh, dear! I’m sure I don’t know what she’ll say,’ remarked the maid, as she re-applied herself to her work, and looked as if she was glad the task had not fallen to her.
The two ladies entered the adjoining bedroom on tip-toe, and as if they feared the result of the least noise. It was one of the most perfectly-arranged chambers a young girl could desire, and it was pre-evident that its furnishings had been selected with the greatest care, and for someone who was much loved and treasured. The walls and chintzes were all of palest pink, the woodwork of white enamel, and the hangings oflace. On the walls were hung a selection of photographs, chiefly of dogs and horses, for Miss Crampton’s tastes ran in that line, and the low, walnut-wood bookcase was filled with the best authors. Everywhere were signs of profusion and luxury, for the Cramptons were rich and spared no expense for this one beloved child, who made all the joy of their lives. The toilet table was covered with silver and cut glass, and on the mantelpiece stood a handsome clock and candelabras of Sevres china; but the fairest sight in all the room was Jenny Crampton herself, as she lay, flushed, dishevelled and palpitating on her bed, one of the most beautiful specimens of work that ever proceeded from the Creator’s hand. It was difficult to believe that the two plain women who stood gazing at her from the foot of the bed, could be her nearest blood relations. The questions of hereditary resemblances and non-resemblances are amongst the most anomalous in Nature. Whence did Jenny Crampton inherit her perfect features and colouring? Her father was atype of the average middle-class Englishman. He had a broad-set, muscular figure, with legs too short for his size, a florid complexion, with thick bushy eyebrows, a heavy nose, and a long upper lip. His small grey eyes were shrewd, but honest and benevolent-looking, and his hands and feet were large and coarse. His wife and her sister might have stood, with a little caricaturing, for the Frenchman’s notion of an ‘English Mees.’
Mrs Crampton had the shapelier and more matured figure of the two, and her soft brown eyes, attenuated nose, and weak drooping mouth, might once have been styled pretty, but they both possessed the same tall, flat frames, with sloping shoulders, long hands and feet, and limp, lustreless hair. In what enchanted moment, then, had such progenitors given life to such a lovely creature, as lay asleep upon the bed before them? Her rounded dimpled arms were thrown restlessly above her head (for it was summer weather), and were half hidden by the mass of light chestnut hair, thatstrayed over her pillow. Her tints were those of a maiden-blush rose. From her neck and shoulders to her flushed cheeks, her skin was of one uniform texture, of a pale cream, just touched with pink. Her lips were slightly parted as she slept and showed the row of white teeth within. The lashes of her eyes lay thick and long upon her cheeks; and those eyes, when open, formed, perhaps, the very chief of her attractions. They were long, limpid eyes, of a light hazel colour, and with the startled expression in them of a deer or a child; eyes which made strangers think that Jenny Crampton was one of the most innocent of God’s creatures upon earth, but which changed considerably in expression when Jenny’s wishes were in any way crossed, or her requests disregarded. From the time when she was a lovely little child (the only one they had ever kept since its earliest infancy) Mr and Mrs Crampton had learned to dread the clouding over of those beautiful orbs, and the pouting of those pretty lips. It was in their power to gratify every wishof their child, and so they gratified themselves at the same time by avoiding anything so distressing to them as her tears. Everyone had combined to spoil Jenny Crampton from her babyhood, and by this time the young lady was pretty well beyond all control. The father acceded to her every request, however unreasonable or extravagant; and the mother and aunt only lived to worship her. Even poor Aunt Clem, who was the standing butt for Jenny’s ridicule, or the mark for her ill-humour, considered herself well repaid for all her patience and endurance if the spoilt beauty gave her an occasional hasty kiss (or rather peck) on her cheek, or her cap, or wherever it might chance to fall, or honoured her by a request to tie her sash, or do a commission for her. This was the sort of education the poor girl had received to enable her to face the rebuffs of the world. But, though her bringing-up had been very faulty, there was no mistake about her beauty. Far or near, all round Hampstead and its environs, there was nota girl who could vie in good looks with old Crampton’s daughter, and, as her father was known to be a very wealthy man, Jenny had more admirers than she could count on her ten fingers. But, of them all, none had really appealed to her senses but Frederick Walcheren. The Cramptons and Aunt Clem had a tough time before them.
‘How lovely she is!’ sighed Miss Bostock, as an intuition of their presence, even through her dreams, made Jenny turn restlessly and throw herself into another becoming attitude on the other side of the bed.
‘Yes! indeed, Clem; but I’m afraid I must rouse her,’ whispered Mrs Crampton. ‘Papa is really vexed about this business, and, if she doesn’t see him at once, I fear he may be more so. Jenny, my darling!’ she continued, going round to the girl’s side and laying her hand gently on her shoulder, ‘Jenny, dear love, wake up; there’s a dear! Papa wants to see you before he goes into the city.’
‘Eh! what?’ said the girl drowsily, asshe turned away, ‘it’s not time to get up yet. I’m so sleepy.’
‘But, Jenny, love, try and rouse yourself,’ repeated her mother, rather tremblingly, ‘your father wants you, dear. He won’t keep you long. You need only put on a tea-gown and can come back and finish your toilet afterwards. Come Jenny, make an effort, love, for papa won’t be denied.’
The girl opened her big hazel eyes then, and stared stupidly at her aunt and mother.
‘You here, mamma!’ she ejaculated, ‘and Aunt Clem! What on earth is the matter? Is the house on fire?’
‘No! no! dear, of course not, but papa wants to speak to you for a minute before he leaves home.’
‘Then he must wait till he comes back,’ replied Jenny, as she closed her eyes again, ‘for I’m a great deal too sleepy to see anyone. Go away, do! mamma, and leave me alone. It’s a shame to go waking me in this way, when you know I was dancing up to three o’clock this morning.’
‘I know, darling, I know!’ said MrsCrampton, almost weeping, ‘and I wouldn’t have done it for the world, only papa insisted on it, and you know what he is when he’s set on having his way. Jenny, my dear; do try and rouse yourself a little, for papa says if you don’t go down and see him, he will come up here and pull you out of bed himself.’
At this intelligence, Miss Crampton did see fit to open her eyes a little wider, and sit up in bed. Perhaps her conscience warned her what this unusual severity on the part of her father might portend, but she looked exceedingly cross as she did so.
‘I never heard such nonsense in all my life,’ she exclaimed, ‘what can he have to say to me, that will not keep till dinner time? I can’t be down for half an hour, at anyrate, so papa must wait my pleasure. Where’s Ellen? She must come and help me dress! My goodness me, Aunt Clem,’ she broke off suddenly, as she caught sight of that lady’s sympathetic features regarding her wistfully from the foot of the bed,‘don’t stand there goggling at me like a stork on one leg, or you’ll drive me out of my senses. Go and call Ellen, do! If I’m to see papa, someone must dress me. I don’t suppose he wants me to walk downstairs in my night-dress, though he is in such a hurry.’
‘No! no! love, of course not!’ returned her mother, hastily. ‘Clem! call Ellen, and tell her Jenny is going to get up. Now, darling! what can I do to help you?’
‘Nothing,’ replied her daughter peevishly, ‘unless you will give papa a dose of morphia to keep him quiet till I can dress myself. Whatisall this mystery about? Why can’t you say why the old gentleman is so desirous of my company this morning. He is not in the habit of dragging me out of bed, after a ball, at this unearthly hour.’
‘It is nearly twelve o’clock, my dear!’ said Mrs Crampton evasively.
‘What of that? I ordered my trap to be round at four this afternoon, and told Ellen particularly that she was not to comenear me till I rang. You know the Bouchers’ dance is on to-night, and a nice figure I shall look at it if I do not have my sleep out first.’
‘Well, dear,’ replied her mother, soothingly, ‘you can come to bed again, if you think fit, in the afternoon. You knowIwouldn’t have disturbed you for all the world, but gentlemen are not always so considerate. And your father insisted upon my doing so, so what could I say?’
‘What’s the row about?’ repeated Jenny, as her maid began to brush out and twist up her superabundant hair.
But Mrs Crampton was too discreet to say all she knew before a servant.
‘Oh! it’s nothing particular, my love, and your father had best tell you himself. You needn’t be afraid, he loves you too dearly ever to scold you, whatever you may do or say.’
‘Oh! I’m not afraid of the old man!’ rejoined the young lady; ‘only he’d better not go too far with me. I can guess what all the fuss is about, mamma, and I’vegot a will of my own, as well as he has. If papa is going to lecture me about Mr—’
‘Now, dear, don’t mention any names,’ interposed Mrs Crampton quickly, ‘for it may only lead to mischief. Your papa must tell you his own business, and I’m sure you’ll do all in your power to fall in with his wishes.’
‘I’m not so sure of that,’ replied the young lady, with amoue. ‘Here, Ellen, give me my blue tea-gown! My hair will do very well, for I shall most likely be in bed again in half an hour. Go down, whilst I’m with Mr Crampton, and fetch me some chocolate and a piece of toast, and let it be ready when I come back. Now! mamma, we’ll go and beard the old lion in his den.’