Bluebell Part 23

CHAPTER XVII.

DID YOU PROPOSE THEN?

A lover came riding by a while; A wealthy lover was he, whose smile Some maids would value greatly.

--More Bad Ballads.

The summer had not been a very gay one. The heat was so intense as to throw languour on the garden and croquet-parties, which replaced the winter b.a.l.l.s and sleigh drives. Thunder was in the air, and growled and muttered around; but the joyfully-hailed clouds floated away without affording a drop of rain; or if one black flying monster poured itself like a water-spout on the parched city, laying the flowers with its violence, the thirsty earth licked it up, scarce leaving a trace. Summer lightning quaked in long sheets over the horizon; the geese were lying dead on the common from drought; and the restless night was haunted by the tramp of straying horses on the wooden side-walks.

"Round trips" were advertised in all the papers, and brackish bathing-places on the St. Lawrence were already crowded. The Saguenay and Marguerite rivers had carried off their fishing votaries, the black fly worked its wicked will at Tadousac, where the "property" whale of the ---- hotel had already been seen spouting, according to the waiter, as he attended at the mat.i.tudinal _table-d'hote_. At any rate, seals might be seen with the naked eye, and shot, too, by a wary seal-slayer in a boat. Two such trophies were already in the hotel, affording unlimited excitement to the visitors, who, indeed, were somewhat in need of extraneous amus.e.m.e.nt, for the only resource the place could boast was pulling a boat against the strong tide of the two rivers meeting, with the alternative of a garment-rending scramble in the woods, a prey to the nipping fly, and coming sometimes in undesired proximity to a wild cat.

Twice a week the Quebec boats, with Saguenay trippers, chiefly Americans, halted at the hotel for an hour or two, and turned in their freight, who invariably commenced dancing to the more amiable than tuneful strains of an amateur performer in the public drawing-room.

This pleasure was partaken of quite as "sadly" as if they were our own unfrisky compatriots; but it pa.s.sed the time, and the males still further diversified it by "smiling" at the bar.

The Rollestons, vacillating between Tadousac, the Falls, a trip in the "Algoma," and a journey to Boston, their large party being an objection to each and all, were finally attracted by an advertis.e.m.e.nt of a fishing-lodge to be let or sold on Rice Lake.

This would be a _pied a terre_ for disposing of the impedimenta of the family--governess and children--during the hot months, leaving the others at liberty for flying excursions. The price was so ridiculous that Colonel Rolleston bought it outright, jestingly saying to Lola that it should be her marriage portion.

There had been a croquet party at "The Maples," but nearly every one was gone except two or three who were remaining for dinner. Among these, with a movement of vexation, Cecil observed Major Fane, her father's persistent encouragement of whom began to cause her serious uneasiness.

Why, this was the second time within four days he had been asked to dine!

"Can he possibly have spoken to papa first?" thought she. "It is just the sort of matter-of-fact thing he would do." Revolving it over, she walked slowly towards her step-mother, who was revelling in a packet of English letters just received, and began reading out portions to Cecil, who listened absently at first, till a pa.s.sage in one of them, from circ.u.mstances, arrested her attention.

It was from a cousin of Mrs. Rolleston's, and chiefly related to her only daughter, who was heiress to a considerable property. This child had always been backward and excitable, and apparently incapable of the fatigue of study. The letter went on to say that Evelyn was developing a pa.s.sion for music, even attempting to compose, and that the writer desired to find a good musician to reside with them, who should be also young and cheerful, and likely to tempt her on in other branches of education as well.

"Mrs. Leighton is exactly describing Bluebell," said Cecil, quietly.

"Oh! and she would suit them so perfectly. I _wonder_ if it would do!

Bluebell will be crazy with delight, she has such a wish to see England; but I doubt if her mother would part with her to such a distance."

Cecil despised herself for saying,--"If you were to put it very strongly to Mrs. Leigh, and show her the advantages to her daughter,--for they are rich as Croesus, and would pay anything for a fancy,--surely she would not stand in her way."

Mrs. Rolleston was meditating, and answered, rather inconsequently,--"I feel greatly interested in Bluebell. I think she is very conscientious and right-minded. Mr. Vavasour never comes here now; and I am sure she has never encouraged him since I gave her a hint on the subject."

Cecil remembered the scene in the Humber, and Bluebell's suggestively-conscious face that evening, so did not rate so highly the heroism of her friend. But the stragglers now drew round them, and they went in to prepare for dinner.

Cecil had also kept Lilla Tremaine, for latterly she had shrunk from a _tete-a-tete_ with Bluebell, who, sensible of their estrangement, yet sadly acquiesced in it, as her new-born suspicions had been strengthened by seeing Cecil receive a letter in Bertie's handwriting.

Lilla, who could not forget the _tableau vivant_ she had witnessed, was continually persecuting her hapless victim with inuendoes and allusions, whose anger and powerlessness to exculpate herself gave an additional zest to the amus.e.m.e.nt. Therefore, finding this young lady was to remain the evening, Bluebell took refuge in the school-room tea, and did not appear at dinner.

Conversation fell on the new purchase, and their approaching departure for Rice Lake; and, observing this did not appear to have a very exhilarating effect on the Major, Colonel Rolleston continued,--"When will you come down and see us, Fane? We shall get very tired of our recluse life, and want some one to bring us the news."

The Major's face brightened, but, stealing a glance at Cecil's, which only expressed consternation, it was speedily overcast, and he returned an evasive answer. Looking gloomily for the relief he expected to discern in her countenance, he received a swift glance of grat.i.tude, which uncomplimentary graciousness completed his discomfiture.

Soon after dinner some garrison duty summoned away Colonel Rolleston, and the others returned to the garden, where daylight struggled with the newly-risen moon. A soft breeze came up from the lake, reviving after the glaring day. Cecil was _distraite_ and silent, so Lilla's vivacious tongue attracted around her the gentlemen of the group, and, without any effort of his, Major Fane found himself somewhat apart with Miss Rolleston.

Though heart-whole when we first introduced him, he was now really in love with Cecil,--that is to say, he approved of and wished to marry her.

As an eligible, many determined efforts had been made for his capture, and the absence of any desire on her part to attract him gave first the feeling of security which soon led to a stronger one. If not pretty, she was graceful, especially so just now, he thought, in that unconscious, reflective att.i.tude.

Fane became nervous: it wasn't often he got the chance of being alone with her, and she might immediately rejoin the others; but just then Cecil, coming out of her reverie, looked up, and said,--"Don't you want to smoke? Not here, but come over to the summer-house where the children do their lessons."

This proposal from the reserved Cecil, who had lately been so conspicuously repellent? He thought the change too good so be believed, and, without another asking, accompanied her to the arbour; but she insisted on the ostensible motive of their going there being carried out.

"Do you think, Cecil," said he, darting on his opportunity, "I want anything else when I am alone with you?"

Fane had, as he thought, broken the ice; but the next instant he was uncertain if she had heard or understood. A moonbeam showed him her face,--it was very pale with a look of determination on it, and her eyes were bright and steady.

"Yes," said she, after a pause, "I am glad we are alone. Major Fane, I have known you such a long time, I want to ask a favour of you, and tell you a secret."

The most confident lover might have found something ominous in these words. Fane felt as if he had made a false step; but he answered, stiffly, perhaps,--"You must have known me to very little purpose, Miss Rolleston, if you are not a.s.sured how gladly I would help or be of use to you in any way."

"Don't think me mad," cried the girl, impulsively; "but could you stay away--I mean, not come here quite so often."

Fane was too much astonished to speak, and Cecil plunged desperately on. "You have been so kind to me," she faltered, "I am afraid of its misleading papa, and his thinking that you have wishes and intentions--"

"That I might wish to marry you, Cecil? Is that the misconception you are afraid of?"

"Pray don't imagine _I_ think so, but _he_, might; and, oh! Major Fane, I care most deeply for some one whom I know would not be acceptable to papa. You, on the contrary, would be everything he could wish--don't you see? the disappointment would make the other all the more objectionable to him."

"I do see my unenviable position," said Fane, shortly, for it was bad enough to be thrown over himself without being expected to be interested in a rival. "What do you wish me to do, Miss Rolleston?"

"To forget, if you can, every word I have said," cried Cecil, in an _acces_ of embarra.s.sment now that she had done it, and the excitement was over. "What _must_ you think of me!"

Fane was silent for some time, for he was struggling with mortification.

Fortunately for Cecil, he was a gentleman, or he might have revenged himself by a.s.suring her she had totally mistaken his intentions.

"I can't under-value the sacrifice you ask of me," said he, presently. "I do not blame you, for you have never pretended to spare me any affection from the lover you are so true to. I hope he is worthy of it."

A pang seized her, as the doubt whether she was not throwing away true gold for counterfeit obtruded itself. "We are good enough for each other," said she, simply, "but, at present, his prospects are so discouraging, that we are not even engaged." A curious expression pa.s.sed over Fane's face. "But I have money enough for both," pursued Cecil, "and if papa is not dazzled and attracted by more brilliant--by you, in short, he must see there is sufficient, and, if I remain firm, eventually consent."

Her extreme eagerness infected Fane too, and relieved the awkwardness of her strange appeal.

"Still afraid of me!" said he, sadly. "My poor child! I fear there is trouble before you. Will it satisfy you if I get six months' leave, and go to England? By that time, perhaps, your complications may have arranged themselves."

Cecil's dark eyes beamed on him with the most speaking grat.i.tude. "You _are_ a true friend," cried she, warmly, "but how selfish and exacting of me to banish you!"

"Oh, as to that," said he, with a short laugh, "I shall not dislike it.

I should have got away long ago if I had known what I do now."

Nothing a woman detests so much as friendship from the man she cares for, and yet she always offers it to the suitor she rejects.

"I never thought you would care really," said she softly "I hope I have not lost my friend by putting too much confidence in him."

"I ought to thank you for your honesty," said he, with a reaction to bitterness, and they rose and returned to the others, met by many a significant look and shrug. Fane observed it, and determined to go. He was in no humour to be watched and commented on as a suitor of Cecil's.

His dog-cart hadn't come, but he lit a cigar, and walked to meet it. "So that's settled," thought he. "And now the sooner I get out of this horrid country the better. I wish I hadn't refused a share of that moor; I should have been just in time for it. Well, she is a nice girl--far too good for that scamp, Du Meresq. I might have suspected what was going on there. Poor child! what a life he will lead her if it comes off, but most likely it won't. It _must_ be Du Meresq; for, though I was evidently meant by the Colonel, I remember that Madame never seemed especially pleased to see me."