A Charming Fellow Volume Ii Part 14

With the rest of the Whitford society, the bride did not enter into intimate, or even amicable, relations. She offended most of the worthy matrons who called on her by merely returning her card, and not even asking to be admitted to see them. As to offering any entertainment in return for the hospitalities that were offered to her during the first weeks that she dwelt in Whitford, that, Castalia said, was out of the question. How could more than two persons sit at table in her little dining-room? And how was it possible to receive company in Ivy Lodge?

But Whitford was not quite of her opinion in this matter. It was true her rooms were small; but were they smaller than Mrs. Jones's, who gave three tea-parties every year, and received her friends in detachments?

Why was Ivy Lodge less adapted for festive purposes than Dr. Smith's house in the High Street?--a queer, ancient, crooked nook of a dwelling, squeezed in between two larger neighbours, with a number of tiny dark rooms like closets; in which, nevertheless, some of the best crumpets and tea-cakes known to that community, not to mention little lobster suppers in the season, had been consumed by the Smiths' friends with much satisfaction. As Mrs. Dockett observed, it was not so much what you gave as the spirit you gave it in that mattered! And she was not ashamed, not she, to recall the time, in the beginning of Mr. Dockett's career, when she had with her own hands prepared a welsh rabbit and a jorum of spiced ale for a little party of friends, having nothing better to offer them for supper. In a word, it was Whitford's creed that even the most indigestible food, freely bestowed, might bless him that gave and him that received; and that if the Algernon Erringtons did not offer anyone so much as a cup of tea in their house, the real reason was to be sought in the lady's proud reserve and a general state of feeling which Mrs. Dockett described as "stuck-upishness."

Castalia was unaccustomed to walking, and disliked that exercise. Riding was out of her power, no saddle-horse that would carry a lady being kept for hire in Whitford, and the jingling old fly from the "Blue Bell" inn was employed to carry her to such houses as she deigned to visit at. Her mother-in-law's lodging was not very frequently honoured by her presence. The stairs frightened her, she said; they were like a ladder.

Mrs. Thimbleby's oblong drawing-room was a horrible little den. She had had no idea that ladies and gentlemen ever lived in such places. In truth, Castalia's antic.i.p.ations of the Erringtons' domestic life at Whitford had by no means prepared her for the reality. Ancram had told her he was poor, certainly. Poor! Yes, but Jack Price was poor also. And Jack Price's valet was far better lodged than her mother-in-law.

However, occasionally the jingling fly did draw up before the widow Thimbleby's door, and Castalia was seen to alight from it with a discontented expression of countenance, and to pick her way with raised skirts over the cleanly sanded doorstep.

One day, when she entered the oblong drawing-room, Castalia perceived that Mrs. Errington was not there; but, instead of her, there was a young lady, sitting at work by the window, who lifted a lovely, blushing face as Castalia entered the room, and stammered out, in evident embarra.s.sment, that Mrs. Errington would be there in a few minutes, and, meanwhile, would not the lady take a seat?

"I am Mrs. Ancram Errington," said Castalia, looking curiously at the girl.

"Yes; I know. I--I saw you at Dr. Bodkin's. I am spending the day with Mrs. Errington. She is very kind to me."

Algernon's wife seated herself in the easy-chair, and leisurely surveyed the young woman before her. Her first thought was, "How well she's dressed!" her second, "She seems very bashful and timid; quite afraid of me!" And this second thought was not displeasing to Mrs. Algernon; for, in general, she had not been treated by the "provincial b.u.mpkins," as she called them, with all the deference and submission due to her rank.

The girl's hands were nervously occupied with some needlework. The flush had faded from her face, and left it delicately pale, except a faint rose-tint in the cheeks. Her shining brown hair waved in soft curls on to her neck. Mrs. Algernon sat looking at her, and critically observing the becoming hue of her green silk gown, the taste and richness of a gold brooch at her throat, the whiteness of the shapely hand that was tremulously plying the needle. All at once a guess came into her mind, and she asked, suddenly:

"Is your name Maxfield?"

"Yes; Rhoda Maxfield," returned the girl, blushing more deeply and painfully than before.

"Why, I have heard of you!" exclaimed Mrs. Algernon. "You must come and see me."

Rhoda was so alarmed at the pitch of agitation to which she was brought by this speech, that she made a violent effort to control it, and answered with, more calmness than she had hitherto displayed:

"Mrs. Errington has spoken once or twice of bringing me to your house; but--I did not like to intrude. And, besides----"

"Oh, Mrs. Errington brings all sorts of tiresome people to see me; she may as well bring a nice person for once in a way."

Castalia was meaning to be very gracious.

"Yes; I mean--but then--my father might not like me to come and see you," blurted out Rhoda, with a sort of quiet desperation.

Mrs. Algernon opened her eyes very wide.

"Why, for goodness' sake? Oh, he had some quarrel or other with Mrs.

Errington, hadn't he? Never mind, that must be all forgotten, or he wouldn't let you come here. I believe the truth is, that Mrs. Errington meant slyly to keep you to herself, and I shan't stand that."

Indeed, Castalia more than half believed this to be the case. And, partly from a sheer spirit of opposition to her mother-in-law--partly from the suspicious jealousy of her nature, that led her to do those things which she fancied others cunningly wished to prevent her from doing--she began to think she would patronise Rhoda and enlist her into her own faction. Besides, Rhoda was sweet-voiced, submissive, humble.

Certainly, she would be a pleasanter sort of pet and tame animal to encourage about the house than Rose McDougall, who, with all her devotion, claimed a _quid pro quo_ for her services, and dwelt on her kinship with the daughter of Lord Kauldkail, and talked of their "mutual ancestry" to an extent that Castalia had begun to consider a bore.

At this moment Mrs. Errington bustled into the room, holding a small roll of yellow lace in her hand. "I have found it, Rhoda," she cried.

"This little bit is nearly the same pattern as the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g on the cap, and, if we join the frilling----" Here she perceived Mrs. Algernon's presence, and stopped her speech with an exclamation of surprise: "Good gracious! is that you, Castalia? How long have you been here? This is an unexpected pleasure. Now you can give us your advice about the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g of my cap, which Rhoda has undertaken for me."

Castalia did not rise from the easy-chair, but turned her cheek to receive the elder lady's kiss. Rhoda gathered up her work, and moved to go away.

"Don't run away, Rhoda!" cried Mrs. Errington. "We have no secrets to talk, have we, Castalia? You know my little friend Rhoda, do you not?

She is a great pet of mine?"

"Oh, I will go and sit in your bedroom, if I may," muttered Rhoda, hurriedly. "I--I don't like to be in your way." And with a little confused courtesy to Mrs. Algernon, she slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

"She is such a shy little thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Errington.

"Well," returned Castalia, "it is a comfort to meet with any Whitford person that knows her place! They are the most presumptuous set of creatures, in general, that I ever came across."

"Oh, Rhoda Maxfield's manners are never at fault, I a.s.sure you; I formed her myself, with considerable care and pains."

"She seems to make herself useful, too!" observed Castalia with a languid sneer.

"That she does, indeed, my dear! Most useful. Her taste and skill in any little matter of needlework are quite extraordinary. Poor child! she is so delighted to do anything for me. She is devotedly attached to me, and very grateful. Her father really did behave abominably, and she feels it very much, and wishes to make up for it. No doubt the old man repents of his folly and ill-humour now; but, of course, I can have nothing more to say to him. However, I willingly allow the girl to do any little thing she can. She has just been tr.i.m.m.i.n.g this cap for me most exquisitely!"

Castalia thought, more and more, that it would be worth her while to patronise Rhoda.

"I shall go to old Maxfield myself, and get him to let her come to my house," said she, as she took leave of her mother-in-law, and slowly made her way down Mrs. Thimbleby's ladder-like staircase, holding fast to the banisters with one hand, and not lifting one of her feet from a step until the other was firmly planted beside it.

On returning home that evening, Rhoda was greatly startled by her father's words, "Well, Miss Maxfield, here's a honourable missis been begging for the pleasure of your company!"

Rhoda turned pale and red, and said something in too low a tone to meet her father's ear.

"Oh yes," the old man went on; "the Honourable Mrs. Algernon Ancram Errington has been here, if you please! Well, I wish that young man joy of his bargain! Our little Sally is ten times as well-favoured. Your Aunt Betty saw her first; and, says she, 'Is Mr. Maxfield at home?'"

"I answered that your father was engaged in business," said Betty Grimshaw, taking up the narration.

"You should ha' said I was serving in the shop," observed old Max, doggedly, "and would sell her fine ladyship a penn'orth of gingerbread if she'd a mind, and could find the penny!"

"Nay, Jonathan, how could I have said that to the lady? Says she, 'I wish to say a word to him.' So I showed her into your drawing-room, Rhoda, and called your father, and----"

"And there she sat," interrupted the old man, with unwonted eagerness in his face and his voice, "in a far better place than any she has of her own, if all accounts are true, looking about her as curious as a ferret.

I walked in, in my calico sleeves and my ap.r.o.n----"

("He wouldn't take them off," put in Betty, parenthetically.)

"No; I wouldn't. And she told me she was come to ask my leave to have my daughter Rhoda at her house. 'Of course you'll let her come,' she says, 'for you let her go to Mrs. Errington's and to Mrs. Bodkin's?' 'Why, as to that,' says I, 'I'm rather partic'lar where Miss Maxfield visits.'

You should have seen her stare. She looked fairly astounded."

"Oh, father!"

"Did I not speak the truth? I _am_ partic'lar where you visit. I told her plainly that you was in a very different position from the rest of the family. 'I am a plain tradesman,' said I. 'I have my own place and my own influence, and I have been marvellously upholden in my walk of light. But my daughter Rhoda is a lady of the Lord's own making, and must be treated as such. And she has plenty of this world's gear, for my endeavours have been abundantly blessed.'"

"Oh, father!"

"'Oh, father!'" repeated the old man, impatiently. "What did I say amiss? I tell you the woman was cowed by me. I am in subjection to none of their princ.i.p.alities and powers. The upshot was that I promised you should go and take tea with her to-morrow evening."

Rhoda was greatly surprised by this announcement, which was totally unexpected. "Oh, father!" she exclaimed in a trembling voice, "why did you say I should go?"

"Why? For various sufficient reasons. Let that be enough for you."

The truth was, that Castalia had more than hinted her suspicion that her mother-in-law selfishly endeavoured to keep Rhoda under her own influence, and to prevent her visiting elsewhere. And to thwart Mrs.