By Veldt and Kopje Part 10

"Supposing someone had helped us long ago, don't you think it would have saved Providence a great deal of trouble?"

"How so, my dear?"

"Well, you see, two people had to die before we could be happy, and even then we had lost four years of our life. Joe, I am determined that Bloxam shall not get Stella, even if I have to come into the church and forbid the marriage when you ask whether anyone knows of any just cause, so you had better help me."

"Well, my dear, I have given my word not to interfere; I don't see how I can help in any way. Surely you don't want me to speak to Bloxam?"

"Not I. Fancy trying to get Bloxam to disobey the finger of Providence when it points to a pretty girl like Stella, just ready, as he thinks, to drop into his big mouth like a ripe plum. No, I _may_ want your help, but I shall try and do without it. But if I _do_ ask you to do anything, you had better just do it."

_Three_.

Next day an air of hushed expectancy seemed to envelop the Parsonage.

Stella complained of a headache; she certainly looked rather pale, and her eyes had an unnatural brightness. Lavinia and Matilda appeared in garb which, although still severely simple, was more in accordance with current fashions than had hitherto been their rule. At breakfast they thawed just a little towards their hostess, and the glances they shot from time to time in Stella's direction was rather less acid than usual.

Breakfast over, they retired to the drawing-room, after each had selected a book of most portentously moral tone from the well-stocked shelves of the Reverend Josiah. Here they sat together on the sofa like a statued group of the cardinal virtues, with Charity left out.

It was early in the afternoon when a whisper to the effect that the three suitors had arrived thrilled through the house. The wagons were outspanned in an open s.p.a.ce about three hundred yards away, and thither the Reverend Josiah hastened with a hearty welcome. The Parsonage was not equal to accommodating the three gentlemen, but they were expected to take their meals there although sleeping at the waggons, alongside which a tent was pitched.

The varied emotions swaying the three men were apparent in their faces and their demeanour as they accompanied Mr Wiseman to the Parsonage. Mr Bloxam's delighted antic.i.p.ations shone out of his face, and his feet seemed to tread upon air. Mr Winterton appeared to be more impressed by the gravity of the situation than by its other aspects. His mouth was set in a hard line, his face was pale, and the pupils of his eyes were contracted to the size of pinpoints. Mr Wardley looked haggard, his feet shuffled as he walked, and the throbbing of his heart filled his ears with thunder. Mr Wiseman tried to be friendly, and made one or two attempts in the direction of jocularity, but his wife weighed heavily on him, and he felt crushed as though with the weight of an impending catastrophe.

The three brides-elect were sitting in the drawing-room with Mrs Wiseman when the party arrived. Stella had retired into a corner, where she sat in the shadow. When the door opened she saw the unmistakable face of Mr Bloxam radiant in the fore, and the pale, dejected visage of Mr Wardley, who was taller than either of his companions, bringing up the rear.

After the formal introduction, some attempts were made at conversation, in the middle of which Mr and Mrs Wiseman, as was expected of them, left the room. Then Mr Bloxam came to the front in his _role_ of man of the world. His self-confidence had for the moment given way under the stress of his emotions, but now he was his own Bloxam again, and skilfully piloted the company over the troubled sea of restraint in which they had been drifting to a haven of disembarra.s.sment. His conversation was mainly directed towards the two elder ladies, but he now and then addressed a remark to Stella, who maintained her seat in the corner. She and Mr Wardley exchanged one or two fleeting glances, each of which was followed by a painful blush. Mr Winterton, from the first, directed furtive attentions towards Matilda, and once, when the discreet cheek of that damsel flushed faintly under a glance of more than usually intent scrutiny, he turned a fiery red, coughed nervously, and looked away in confusion.

At the tea-table, afterwards, Mr Bloxam still took the conversational lead. Mrs Wiseman was sweetness personified, and ably seconded Mr Bloxam's efforts to keep the ball rolling. Stella sat silent and demure, and both Lavinia and Matilda gave evidence of the superiority of their minds by making discreet comments from time to time. Mr Wardley complained of a headache, and looked really ill. He and Stella had been placed at opposite corners, with the whole length of the table between them, and they now and then exchanged glances--brief as lightning-flashes, and as destructive to their peace of mind. When the ladies retired to the drawing-room, Wardley followed Mrs Wiseman to the pa.s.sage, and begged her to excuse him for the rest of the evening, as he felt too ill to remain. She accompanied him to the door, bade him good-night with a friendly pressure of the hand, and told him to keep up his spirits, as things might not be so bad as they appeared.

Mr Wardley returned to the wagons, and flung himself upon his bed in bitter agony of mind. Stella transcended all he had dreamt of her; and the first glance from her clear brown eyes had been to his heart like a match set to an inflammable pile. He loved her utterly and suddenly, and he at the same time realised how hopeless was his chance of winning her.

The counterpart of Wardley's love for Stella was an utter loathing of the idea of marriage with either of the others. His mind was made up; he would refuse to carry out the compact. He knew that this would cost him his position in the ministry, and the thought caused him acute and remorseful pain, for he believed thoroughly in the genuineness of his calling; but he felt that marriage with one of these women would, under his present dispositions, be a crime more deadly than any other he could commit. He was quite clear as to the course which he had to pursue; he would wait until Stella had been formally appropriated by Mr Bloxam, and then steal quietly away to some spot where he could hide his shame and grief, leaving a brief letter for Mr Wiseman, with some sort of an explanation of his conduct.

In the meantime the course of events at the Parsonage ran smoothly. Mr Bloxam was not very successful in his efforts to become confidential with Stella, who clung to Mrs Wiseman like a frightened child, and could not be enticed from her side. He was very gallant with Miss Lavinia, but guardedly so; and he carefully abstained from giving her any grounds for inferring that his attentions were based on anything more than mere civility. Mr Winterton and Miss Matilda made great strides in their intimacy; they got into a corner quite early in the evening, and remained there playing solitaire. Towards the end they had quite a gamesome little scuffle over the last marble but one, when the chaste Matilda archly attempted to cheat in the most barefaced and obvious manner. The rest of the company left them quite undisturbed, and, in fact, rather ostentatiously ignored them. The only one who took the least notice of their sedate flirtation was Stella, who shot glances of fearful curiosity into their corner now and then, and thought with dismay that she and Mr Bloxam would most probably soon be similarly situated.

At length the hour for prayers struck, and all moved into the dining-room. As the senior stranger, Mr Bloxam was called upon to give an exhortation, and, in complying, he did justice to the occasion. He had all the texts of Scripture that deal with marriage at his tongue's tip, and he painted the moral advantages of that holy estate with such fervour and fluency that the thought crossed Stella's mind that he must be a widower in disguise, and she wondered whether this would not be a valid excuse for her refusing to marry him, as the three had been represented as bachelors in the first instance. Then she smiled to herself at the foolishness of her imaginings, and again surrendered to the feeling of numbing despair which had been creeping over her.

After the discourse came a short, fervent, and very explicit prayer for the special interposition of Providence at the present very important juncture, at the end of which Mrs Wiseman's enunciation of the "Amen"

was heard so loudly and distinctly above the other voices, that her husband started violently and looked round at her in obvious alarm.

In bidding Stella "good-night," Mr Bloxam put so much expression into his voice, and so much unction into the pressure of his hand, that the girl had to clench her teeth hard to keep from screaming. Mr Winterton and Matilda developed their idyll over the solitaire board to the very end of the evening. After prayers she fetched the board from the drawing-room for the purpose of showing him a puzzle she had learnt from a lady friend who was champion solitaire player of the village she lived in, and this engrossed them until the moment of departure. It was then that Mr Bloxam indulged in his first piece of badinage. He said to Stella, with something which looked atrociously like a wink, and in a voice that all could hear, that he supposed Brother Winterton was making the most of what remained of his "solitaire" condition, and he added with an inflection of tenderness in his voice, that this condition was now nearly at an end for all of them. Brother Winterton hung his head shamefacedly, Matilda was covered with becoming confusion, and Stella winced as though struck with a whip.

On the way back to the wagons the two ardent swains paused for a few minutes' conversation beneath the glowing stars. "Would it be amiss if I were to ask whether you feel your inclinations being guided in any particular direction?" asked Mr Bloxam.

"Since you inquire, I will tell you that Miss Whitmore is the one towards whom I feel attracted," replied Mr Winterton, without hesitation.

After a pause, which gave the idea that he waited to be questioned, Mr Bloxam said in a nervous tone:--

"Since you have given me your confidence, Winterton, I will tell you that some influence, such as I have never before experienced, seems to draw me towards Miss Mason. In these matters we must believe that we are guided through our inclinations, and I have determined not to be disobedient to the pleasing monition. I shall propose for Miss Mason's hand to-morrow."

"What a pity Wardley is indisposed," said Mr Winterton, after a moment's pause. "I hope he recognises his fore-ordained helpmeet in Miss Simpson, as we do in the ladies of our choice."

"I think Miss Simpson will suit Wardley admirably," said Mr Bloxam, quickly; "he is just the man who ought to marry one older than himself.

You see how delicate he is, and it is meet that his wife be one whose age and experience fits her to take care of him."

"Ye-e-s," replied Mr Winterton.

"I think," rejoined Mr Bloxam, "that as Wardley is unwell to-night we had better not excite him by discussing these important subjects in his hearing."

"I quite agree with you," replied Mr Winterton.

When Mrs Wiseman went to bid Stella "good-night" she found the girl sobbing on her pillow as if her heart were breaking.

"Cheer up, my deary," said the kind woman; "things may not be as bad as you think. Look here, I want you to-morrow to do exactly as I tell you to, and ask no questions. Will you promise to do so?"

"Yes," whispered Stella through her sobs.

"Very well, then. To-morrow morning, first thing, you are to write a note to that young man you made friends with on board ship asking him to come up and take lunch with us."

Stella nodded.

"When the reply comes you are to look hurriedly at the letter, put it into your pocket without opening it, and leave the room."

Stella again nodded.

"You are to return in a few minutes, and sit down again without saying a word about the letter."

Stella again nodded. She was now drying her tears, and the look on her face was decidedly less woebegone than it had been a few moments previously.

"Now, look here," said Mrs Wiseman, "keep up your spirits; I will get you and young Wardley out of this if I possibly can. You have just got to do exactly what I tell you. I am very glad that he is sick and out of the way just now. Good-night, my deary; keep your spirits up, and all will come right, or else my name isn't Louisa Wiseman."

_Four_.

Next morning Mrs Wiseman rose very early and went downstairs to her husband's study, where she locked herself in for about half an hour.

She then went and sought for Stella, whom she found sitting in her room dressed. She sent her down to the study, telling her to write the letter inviting young Ramsay to lunch, warning her at the same time not to mention the fact of the invitation to anyone. The invitation Mrs Wiseman enclosed to the local agent for the _Silver Linings_ who happened to be a friend of hers, asking him as a particular favour to send it out by a special messenger to the vessel, and to transmit any reply that might come under cover to herself personally.

At breakfast-time Mr Wardley was reported to be still very unwell; however, as he distinctly refused to see a doctor, no alarm was felt on his account. It was, of course, felt that his absence caused a hitch in the otherwise harmonious proceedings. After breakfast Mrs Wiseman went up to the wagons to see him, and returned with the report that, although he was undoubtedly ill and quite unable to appear at present, he would most probably be sufficiently recovered to put in an appearance in the course of the afternoon. When Mrs Wiseman made this announcement, her husband looked extremely uneasy, and after a few moments got up and hurriedly left the room. Both Mr Bloxam and Mr Winterton looked at Lavinia with expressions of commiseration, whilst she maintained a demeanour which suggested subdued tenderness and resignation.

The Parsonage grounds were rich with trees, and thus afforded suitable localities for amatory dalliance. In its bosky recesses many a clerical swain had sported with his Amaryllis in the shade, and thither the ardent Winterton led his coy Matilda soon after breakfast, and elicited, after becoming hesitancy, her blushing acceptance of his hand and heart.

When he attempted to seal the compact with an embrace, she disengaged herself with a twittering little scream from his unaccustomed arms and fled. Her confusion, however, was such that she did not run towards the house, but into a thick shrubbery which lay in quite another direction.

Thither Mr Winterton followed without a moment's hesitation, and the twittering scream was repeated, but in a rather fainter tone. However, Matilda must have forgiven her lover whatever liberties he may have taken, for when they returned together to the house not very long afterwards they both looked extremely happy, and were apparently the best of friends.

Stella kept close to Mrs Wiseman, and a great deal of unsuccessful diplomacy was exercised by Mr Bloxam with the object of obtaining a _tete-a-tete_ with the object of his growing pa.s.sion. At length a reply to Stella's letter arrived from Mr Ramsay. It had been, as arranged, sent in a cover addressed to Mrs Wiseman. She at once took it to her husband, who was sitting, a prey to great nervousness, in his study.

"Joe," she said in a tone that admitted of neither contradiction nor argument, "in five minutes exactly you are to send the servant with that letter to Miss Mason in the drawing-room."

She then hurried from the room, without giving him time to reply, and went to where poor Stella was awaiting her in a fever of trembling suspense. She took the girl's arm and hurried her to the drawing-room, where the enamoured Bloxam was sitting, apparently absorbed in the perusal of a book which he was holding upside down. When close to the door, she whispered hurriedly to the girl--