Beechcroft at Rockstone

C >> Charlotte M. Yonge >> Beechcroft at Rockstone

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'I am sure I hope he will not do anything so ridiculous!'

'Oh no, of course not!' But it was plain that the secret
consciousness of being Countess of Rocca Marina was an offset against
being plain Mrs. White, and Adeline continued: 'There is another
thing---I do not quite see how it can be managed about Kalliope
otherwise, poor girl!'

It was quite true that the care of Kalliope would be greatly
facilitated by Mr. White's marriage; but what was absurd was to
suppose that Ada would have made any sacrifice for her sake, or any
one else's, and there was something comical as well as provoking in
this pose of devotion to the public good.

'You are decided, then?'

'Oh no! I am only showing you what inducements there are to give up
so much as I should do here---if I make up my mind to it.'

'There's only one inducement, I should think, valid for a moment.'

'Yes'---bridling a little. 'But, Lily, you always had your romance.
We don't all meet with a Jasper at the right moment, and---and'---the
Maid of Athens drooped her eyelids, and ingenuously curved her lips.
'I do think the poor man has it very much at heart.'

'Then you ought not to keep him in suspense.'

'And you---you really are not against it, Lily?' (rather in a
disappointed tone), as if she expected to have her own value
enhanced.

'I think you ought to do whatever is most right and just by him, and
everybody else. If you really care for the man enough to overlook
his origin, and his occasional betrayals of it, and think he will
make you better and happier, take him at once; but don't pretend to
call it a sacrifice, or for anybody's sake but for your own; and, any
way, don't trifle with him and his suspense.'

Lady Merrifield spoke with unwonted severity, for she was really
provoked.

'But, Lily, I must see what the others say---William and Emily. I
told him that William was the head of our family.'

'If you mean to be guided by them, well and good; if not, I see no
sense in asking them.'

After all, the family commotion fell short of what was expected by
either of the sisters. The eldest brother, Mr. Mohun, of Beechcroft
Court, wrote to the lady herself that she was quite old enough to
know what was for her own happiness, and he had no desire to
interfere with her choice if she preferred wealth to station. To
Lady Merrifield his letter began: 'It is very well it is no worse,
and as Jasper vouches for this being a worthy man, and of substantial
means, there is no valid objection. I shall take care to overhaul
the settlements, and, if possible, I must make up poor Jane's
income.'

The sister, Lady Henry Grey, in her dowager seclusion at Brighton,
contented herself with a general moan on the decadence of society,
and the levelling up that made such an affair possible. She had been
meditating a visit to Rockquay, to see her dear Lilias (who, by the
bye, had run down to her at Brighton for a day out of the stay in
London), but now she would defer it till this matter was over. It
would be too trying to have to accept this stonemason as one of the
family.

As to Colonel Mohun, being one of the younger division of the family,
there was no idea of consulting him, and he wrote a fairly civil
little note to Adeline, hoping that she had decided for the best, and
would be happy; while to the elder of the pair of sisters he said:
'So Ada has found her crooked stick at last. I always thought it
inevitable. Keep up heart, old Jenny, and hold on till Her Majesty
turns me off, and then we will see what is to be done.'

Perhaps this cool acquiescence was less pleasing to Adeline Mohun
than a contest that would have proved her value and importance, and
her brother William's observation that she was old enough to know her
own mind was the cruellest cut of all. On the other hand, there was
no doubt of her swain's devotion. If he had been influenced in his
decision by convenience or calculation, he was certainly by this time
heartily in love. Not only was Adeline a handsome, graceful woman,
whose airs and affectations seemed far more absurd to those who had
made merry over them from childhood than to a stranger of an inferior
grade; but there was a great charm to a man, able to appreciate
refinement, in his first familiar intercourse with thorough ladies.
Jane began to be touched by the sight of his devotion, and convinced
of his attachment, and sometimes wondered with Lady Merrifield
whether Adeline would rise to her opportunities and responsibilities,
or be satisfied to be a petted idol.

One difficulty in this time of suspense was, that the sisters had no
right to take into their confidence the young folks, who were quite
sharp-eyed enough to know that something was going on, and, not being
put on honour, were not withheld from communicating their discoveries
to one another in no measured words, though fortunately they had
sense enough, especially under the awe of their father, not to let
them go any further than Mysie, who was entertaining because she was
shocked at their audacious jokes and speculations, all at first on
the false scent of their elder aunt, who certainly was in a state of
excitement and uncertainty enough to throw her off the even tenor of
her way and excite some suspicion. When she actually brought down a
number of the Contemporary Review instead of Friendly Work for the
edification of her G.F.S., Gillian tried not to look too conscious
when some of the girls actually tittered in the rear; and she
absolutely blushed when Aunt Jane deliberately stated that Ascension
Day would fall on a Tuesday. So Gillian averred as she walked up the
hill with Jasper and Mysie. It seemed a climax to the diversion she
and Jasper had extracted from it in private, both wearing Punch's
spectacles for the nonce, and holding such aberrations as proof
positive. Mysie, on the other hand, was much exercised.

'Do you think she is in love, then?'

'Oh yes! People always do those things in love. Besides, the Sofi
hasn't got a single white hair in her, and you know what that always
means!'

'I can't make it out! I can't think how Aunt Jane can be in love
with a great man like that. His voice isn't nice, you know---'

'Not even as sweet as Bully Bottom's,' suggested Gillian.

'You're a chit,' said Jasper, 'or you'd be superior to the notion of
love being indispensable.'

'When people are so _very_ old,' said Mysie in a meditative voice,
'perhaps they can't; but Aunt Jane is very good---and I thought it was
only horrid worldly people that married without love.'

'Trust your good woman for looking to the main chance,' said Jasper,
who was better read in Trollope and Mrs. Oliphant than his sisters.

''Tis not main chance,' said Gillian. 'Think of the lots of good she
would do! What a recreation room for the girls, and what schools she
would set up at Rocca Marina! Depend upon it, it's for that!'

'I suppose it is right if Aunt Jane does it,' said Mysie.

'Well done, Mysie! So, Aunt Jane is your Pope!'

'No; she's the King that can do no wrong,' said Gillian, laughing.

'Wrong---I didn't say wrong---but things aren't always real wrong that
aren't somehow quite right, said Mysie, with the bewildered reasoning
of perceptions that outran her powers of expression.

'Mysie's speeches, for instance,' said Jasper.

'Oh, Japs, what did I say wrong?'

'Don't tease her, Japs. He didn't mean morally, but correctly.'

The three were on their way up the hill when they met Primrose, who
had accompanied Mrs. Halfpenny to see Kalliope, and who was evidently
in a state of such great discomposure that they all stood round to
ask what was the matter; but she hung down her head and would not
say.

'Hoots! toots! I tell her she need not make such a work about it,'
said Mrs. Halfpenny. 'The honest man did but kiss her, and no harm
for her uncle that is to be.'

'He's a nasty man! And he snatched me up! And he is all scrubby and
tobacco-ey, and I won't have him for an uncle,' cried Primrose.

'I hope he is not going to proceed in that way,' said Gillian sotto
voce to Mysie.

'People always do snatch up primroses,' said Jasper.

'Don't, Japs! I don't like marble men. I wish they would stay
marble.'

'You don't approve of the transformation?'

'Oh, Japs, is it true? Mysie, you know the statue at Rotherwood,
where Pig-my-lion made a stone figure and it turned into a woman.'

'Yes; but it was a woman and this is a man.'

Mysie began an exposition of classic fable to her little sister,
while Mrs. Halfpenny explained that this came of Christian folk
setting up heathen idols in their houses as 'twas a shame for decent
folk to look at, let alone puir bairnies; while Jasper and Gillian
gasped in convulsions of laughter, and bandied queries whether their
aunt were the statue 'Pig-my-lion' had animated, as nothing could be
less statuesque than she, whether the reverse had taken place, as
Primrose observed, and she had been the Pygmalion to awaken the soul
in the man of marble. Here, however, Mrs. Halfpenny became
scandalised at such laughter in the open street; and, perceiving some
one in the distance, she carried off Primrose, and enjoined the
others to walk on doucely and wiselike.

Gillian was on her way to visit Kalliope and make an appointment for
her mother to take her out for a drive; but as they passed the gate
at Beechcroft out burst Valetta and Fergus, quite breathless.

'Oh, Gill, Gill! Mr. White is in the drawing-room, and he has
brought Aunt Ada the most beautiful box you ever saw, with all the
stoppers made of gold !'

'And he says I may get all the specimens I like at Rocca Marina,'
shouted Fergus.

'Ivory brushes, and such a ring---sparkling up to the ceiling!' added
Valetta.

'But, Val, Ferg, whom did you say?' demanded the elders, coming
within the shadow of the copper beeches.

'Aunt Ada,' said Valetta; 'there's a great A engraved on all those
dear, lovely bottles, and---oh, they smell!'

'Aunt Ada! Oh, I thought----'

'What did you think, Gill?' said Aunt Jane, coming from the grass-
plat suddenly on them.

'Oh, Aunt Jane, I am so glad!' cried Gillian. 'I thought'---and she
blushed furiously.

'They made asses of themselves,' said Jasper.

'They said it was you,' added Mysie. 'Miss Mellon told Miss Elbury,'
she added in excuse.

'Me? No, I thank you! So you are glad, Gillian?'

'Oh yes, aunt! I couldn't have borne for you to do anything---queer'-
--and there was a look in Gillian's face that went to Jane's heart,
and under other circumstances would have produced a kiss, but she
rallied to her line of defence.

'My dear, you must not call this queer. Mr. White is very much
attached to your aunt Ada, and I think he will make her very happy,
and give her great opportunities of doing good.'

'That's just what Gillian said when she was afraid it was you,' said
Mysie. 'I suppose that's it? And that makes it real right.'

'And the golden stoppers!' said Valetta innocently, but almost
choking Jasper with laughter, which must be suppressed before his
aunt.

'May one know it now?' asked Gillian, sensible of the perilous
ground.

'Yes, my dears; you must have been on tenter-hooks all this time,
for, of course, you saw there was a crisis, and you behaved much
better than I should have done at your age; but it was only a fait
accompli this very day, and we couldn't tell you before.'

'When he brought down the golden stoppers,' Jasper could not help
saying.

'No, no, you naughty boy! He would not have dared to bring it in
before; he came before luncheon---all that came after. Oh, my dear,
that dressing-case is perfectly awful! I wouldn't have such a
burthen on my mind---for---for all the orphans in London! I hope there
are no banditti at Rocca Marina.'

'Only accepted to-day! How did he get all his great A's engraved?'
said Jasper practically.

'He could not have had many doubts,' said Gillian. 'Does Kalliope
know?'

'I cannot tell; I think he has probably told her.'

'He must have met Primrose there,' said Jasper. 'Poor Prim!' And
the offence and the Pig-my-lion story were duly related, much to Aunt
Jane's amusement.

'But,' she said, 'I think that the soul in the marble man is very
real, and very warm; and, dear children, don't get into the habit of
contemning him. Laugh, I suppose you must; I am afraid it must look
ridiculous at our age; but please don't despise. I am going down to
your mother.

'May I come with you! said Gillian. 'I don't think I can go to Kally
till I have digested this a little; and, if you are going to mamma,
she won't drive her out.'

Jane was much gratified by this volunteer, though Jasper did suggest
that Gill was afraid of Primrose's treatment. He went on with the
other three to Clipston, while Gillian exclaimed---

'Oh, Aunt Jane, shall not you be very lonely?'

'Not nearly so much so as if you were not all here,' said her aunt
cheerfully. 'When you bemoaned your sisters last year we did not
think the same thing was coming on me.'

'Phyllis and Alethea! It was a very different thing,' said Gillian.
'Besides, though I hated it so much, I had got used to being without
them.'

'And to tell you the truth, Gill, nothing in that way ever was so bad
to me as your own mother going and marrying; and now, you see, I have
got her back again---and more too.'

Aunt Jane's smile and softened eyes told that the young niece was
included in the 'more too'; and Gillian felt a thrill of pleasure and
affection in this proof that after all she was something to the aunt,
towards whom her feelings had so entirely changed. She proceeded,
however, to ask with considerable anxiety what would be done about
the Whites, Kalliope especially; and in return she was told about the
present plan of Kalliope's being taken to Italy to recover first, and
then to pursue her studies at Florence, so as to return to her work
more capable, and in a higher position.

'Oh, how exquisite!' cried Gillian. 'But how about all the others?'

'The very thing I want to see about, and talk over with your mother.
I am sure she ought to go; and it will not even be wasting time, for
she cannot earn anything.'

Talking over things with Lady Merrifield was, however, impeded, for,
behold, there was a visitor in the drawing-room. Aunt and niece
exchanged glances of consternation as they detected a stranger's
voice through the open window, and Gillian uttered a vituperative
whisper.

'I do believe it is that dreadful Fangs;' then, hoping her aunt had
not heard---'Captain Henderson, I mean. He threatened to come down
after us, and now he will always be in and out; and we shall have no
peace. He has got nothing on earth to do '

Gillian's guess was right. The neat, trim, soldierly figure, with a
long fair moustache and pleasant gray eyes, was introduced to Miss
Mohun as 'Captain Henderson, one of my brother officers,' by Sir
Jasper, who stood on the rug talking to him. Looks and signs among
the ladies were token enough that the crisis had come; and Lady
Merrifield soon secured freedom of speech by proposing to drive her
sister to Clipston, while Sir Jasper asked his visitor to walk with
him.

'You will be in haste to sketch the place,' he said, 'before the
workmen have done their best to demolish its beauty.'

As for Gillian, she saw her aunt hesitating on account of a parochial
engagement for that afternoon; and, as it was happily not beyond her
powers, she offered herself as a substitute, and was thankfully
accepted. She felt quite glad to do anything obliging towards her
aunt Jane, and in a mood very unlike last year's grudging service; it
was only reading to the 'mothers' meeting,' since among the good
ladies there prevailed such a strange incapacity of reading aloud,
that this part of the business was left to so few that for one to
fail, either in presence or in voice, was very inconvenient. All
were settled down to their needlework, with their babies disposed of
as best they might be. Mr. Hablot had finished his little lecture,
and the one lady with a voice had nearly exhausted it, and there was
a slight sensation at the absence of the unfailing Miss Mohun, when
Gillian came in with the apologies about going to drive with her
mother.

'And,' as she described it afterwards 'didn't those wretched beings
all grin and titter, even the ladies, who ought to have had more
manners, and that old Miss Mellon, who is a real growth of the hotbed
of gossip, simpered and supposed we must look for such things now;
and, though I pretended not to hear, my cheeks would go and flame up
as red as---that tasconia, just with longing to tell them Aunt Jane
was not so ridiculous; and so I took hold of For Half a Crown, and
began to read it as if I could bite them all!'

She read herself into a state of pacification, but did not attempt to
see Kalliope that day, being rather shy of all that might be
encountered in that house, especially after working hours. The next
day, however, Lady Merrifield's services were required to chaperon
the coy betrothed in an inspection of Cliff House and furniture,
which was to be renovated according to her taste, and Gillian was to
take that time for a visit to Kalliope, whom she expected to find in
the garden. The usual corner was, however, vacant; and Mr. White was
heard making a growl of 'Foolish girl! Doesn't know which way her
bread is buttered.'

Maura, however, came running up, and said to Gillian, 'Please come
this way. She is here.'

'What has she hidden herself for?' demanded Mr. White. 'I thought
she might have been here to welcome this---Miss Adeline.'

'She is not very well to-day,' faltered Maura.

'Oh! ay, fretting. Well, I thought she had more sense.'

Gillian followed Maura, who was no sooner out of hearing than she
began: 'It is too bad of him to be so cross. Kally really is so
upset! She did not sleep all night, and I thought she would have
fainted quite away this morning!'

'Oh dear! has he been worrying her?'

'She is very glad and happy, of course, about Miss Ada! and he won't
believe it, because he wants her to go out to Italy with them for all
next winter.'

'And won't she? Oh, what a pity!'

'She said she really could not because of us; she could not leave us,
Petros and all, without a home. She thought it her duty to stay and
look after us. And then he got cross, and said that she was
presuming on the hope of living in idleness here, and making him keep
us all, but she would find herself mistaken, and went off very
angry.'

'Oh, horrid! how could he?'

'I believe, if Kally could have walked so far, she would have gone
down straight to Mr. Lee's. She wanted to, but she was all in a
tremble, and I persuaded her not, though she did send me down to ask
Mrs. Lee when she can be ready. Then when Alexis came home, Mr.
White told him that he didn't in the least mean all that, and would
not hear of her going away, though he was angry at her being so
foolish, but he would give her another chance of not throwing away
such advantages. And Alexis says she ought not. He wants her to go,
and declares that he and I can very well manage with Mrs. Lee, and
look after Petros, and that she must not think of rushing off in a
huff for a few words said in a passion. So, between the two, she was
quite upset and couldn't sleep, and, oh, if she were to be ill
again!'

By this time they were in sight of Kalliope lying back in a basket-
chair, shaded by the fence of the kitchen-garden, and her weary face
and trembling hand showed how much this had shaken her in her
weakness. She sent Maura away, and spoke out her troubles freely to
Gillian. 'I thought at first my duty was quite clear, and that I
ought not to go away and enjoy myself and leave the others to get on
without me. Alec would find it so dreary; and though Mr. and Mrs.
Lee are very good and kind, they are not quite companions to him.
Then Maura has come to think so much about people being ladies that I
don't feel sure that she would attend to Mrs. Lee; and the same with
Petros in the holidays. If I can't work at first, still I can make a
home and look after them.'

'But it is only one winter, and Alexis thinks you ought; and, oh,
what it would be, and how you would get on!'

'That is what puzzles me. Alexis thinks Mr. White has a right to
expect me to improve myself, and not go on for ever making white
jessamines with malachite leaves, and that he can look after Maura
and Petros. I see, too, that I ought to try to recover, or I might
be a burthen on Alexis for ever, and hinder all his better hopes.
Then, there's the not liking to accept a favour after Mr. White said
such things, though I ought not to think about it since he made that
apology; but it is a horrid feeling that I ought not to affront him
for the sake of the others. Altogether I do feel so tossed. I can't
get back the feeling I had when I was ill that I need not worry, for
that God will decide.'

And there were tears in her eyes.

'Can't you ask some one's advice?' said Gillian.

'If I were sure they quite understood! My head is quite tired with
thinking about it.'

Not many moments had passed before there were steps that made
Kalliope start painfully, and Maura appeared, piloting another
visitor. It was Miss Mohun, who had escaped from the survey of the
rooms,---so far uneasy at what she had gathered from Mr. White, that
she was the more anxious to make the offer previously agreed to.

'My dear,' she said, 'I am afraid you look tired.'

'They have worried her and knocked her up,' said Gillian indignantly.

'I see! Kally, my dear, we are connections now, you know, and I have
heard of Mr. White's plan. It made me think whether you would find
the matter easier if you let me have Maura while you are away to
cheer my solitude. Then I could see that she did her lessons, and,
between all Gillian's brothers, we could see that Petros was happy in
the holidays.'

'Oh, Miss Mohun! how can I be grateful enough? There is an end of
all difficulties.'

And when the inspecting party came round, and Adeline bent to kiss
the white, weary, but no longer distressed face, and kindly said, 'We
shall see a great deal of each other, I hope,' she replied, with an
earnest 'thank you,' and added to Mr. White, 'Miss Mohun has made it
all easy to me, sir, and I am very grateful!'

'Ay, ay! You're a good girl at the bottom, and have some sense!'

CHAPTER XXIII. FANGS

Events came on rapidly that spring. Mr. White was anxious that his
marriage should take place quickly---afraid, perhaps, that his prize
would escape him, and be daunted by the passive disapproval of her
family, though this was only manifested to him in a want of
cordiality. This, being sincere people, they could not help; and
that outbreak to Kalliope had made the sisters so uneasy, that they
would have willingly endured the ridicule of a broken engagement to
secure Adeline from the risks of a rough temper where gentlemanly
instincts were not inbred.

Adeline, however, knew she had gone too far to recede, though she
would willingly have delayed, in enjoyment of the present homage and
shrinking from the future plunge away from all her protectors.
Though the strong, manly will overpowered hers, and made her submit
to the necessities of the case and fix a day early in July, she clung
the more closely to her sisters, and insisted on being accompanied by
Jane on going to London to purchase the outfit that she had often
seen in visions before. So Miss Mohun's affairs were put in
commission, Gillian taking care of them, and the two sisters were to
go to Mrs. Craydon, once, as Marianne Weston, their first friend out
of their own family, and now a widow with a house in London, well
pleased at any recall of old times, though inclined, like all the
rest, to speak of 'poor Ada.'

Lord Rotherwood was, as his cousins had predicted, less disgusted
than the rest, as in matters of business he had been able to test the
true worth that lay beneath the blemishes of tone and of temper; and
his wife thought the Italian residence and foreign tincture made the
affair much more endurable than could have been expected. She chose
an exquisite tea-service for their joint wedding present; but she
would not consent to let Lady Phyllis be a bridesmaid; though the
Marquis, discovering that her eldest brother hated the idea of giving
her away to the stonemason, offered 'not to put too fine a point on
it, but to act the part of Cousin Phoenix.'

Bridesmaids would have been rather a difficulty; but then the deep
mourning of Kalliope and Maura made a decided reason for excluding
them; and Miss Adeline, who knew that a quiet wedding would be in
much the best taste, resolved to content herself with two tiny
maidens, Primrose and the contemporary Hablot, her own goddaughter,
who, being commonly known as Belle, made a reason for equipping each
in the colour and with the flowers of her name, and the idea was
carried out with great taste.

Valetta thought it hard that an outsider should be chosen. The young
Merrifields had the failing of large families in clannish
exclusiveness up to the point of hating and despising more or less
all who interfered with their enjoyment of one another, and of their
own ways. The absence of society at Silverfold had intensified this
farouche tone, and the dispersion, instead of curing it, had rendered
them more bent on being alone together. Worst of all was Wilfred,
who had been kept at home very inconveniently by some recurring
delicacy of brain and eyes, and who, at twelve years old, was enough
of an imp to be no small torment to his sisters. Valetta was
unmercifully teased about her affection for Kitty Varley and Maura
White, and, whenever he durst, there were attempts at stings about
Alexis, until new game offered itself on whom no one had any mercy.

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