Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall Part 42

CHAPTER XIII

PROUD DAYS FOR THE OLD HALL

Of course the queen's approaching visit threw Haddon Hall into a frenzy of scrubbing and furbishing. Aunt Dorothy was the busiest woman in England.

Floors were newly polished. Draperies were taken down and were carefully washed with mysterious concoctions warranted to remove dirt without injury to color. Superfine wax was bought in great boxes, and candles were made for all the chandeliers and candelabra in the house. Perfumed oil was purchased for the lamp in the state bedroom. Elizabeth, by the way, when she came, did not like the odor of the oil, and with an oath tossed both the oil and the lamp out of the window. The fattest sheep, kine, and hogs were chosen from the flocks and were brought in to be stall-fed in such numbers that one might have supposed we were expecting an ogress who could eat an ox at a meal. Pipers and dancers were engaged, and a merry fool was brought down from London. At last the eventful day came and with it came our queen. She brought with her a hundred yeomen of her guard and a score of ladies and gentlemen. Among the latter was the Earl of Leicester, who was the queen's prime favorite.

Prior to the queen's announcement of her intention to visit Haddon Sir George had, with Dorothy's tacit consent, fixed a day upon which the Earl of Derby and his son, Lord James, should be received at the Hall for the purpose of signing the marriage contract. Dorothy, of course, had no intention of signing the contract, but she put off the evil hour of refusal as far as possible, hoping something might occur in the meantime to help her out of the dilemma. Something did occur at the last moment. I am eager to tell you about it, but it must wait its turn. Truly would the story of this ingenious girl's life make a romance if it were written by a poet. In her Guinevere and Elaine were moulded into one person with the tenderness, purity, and fierceness of each.

To postpone further the time of the Stanley visit, Dorothy suggested that the betrothal should take place in the presence of the queen. Sir George acquiesced, and in his heart grew less eager for the Stanley match as Dorothy apparently became more tractable. He was, however, engaged with the earl to an extent that forbade withdrawal, even had he been sure that he wished to withdraw.

At the time of which I speak the Earl of Leicester was the most exalted subject of the realm. He was ardently devoted to the cause of the ladies, and, although he had fixed his hope on Elizabeth and longed for a seat beside her on the throne, his inflammable heart was constantly catching fire from other eyes. He, of course, made desperate efforts to conceal these manifold conflagrations from the queen, but the inflammable tow of his heart was always bringing him into trouble with his fiery mistress.

The earl's first glance toward Dorothy was full of admiration. The second glance was full of conflagration. The second day of the queen's residence in Haddon I was astonished, grieved, and angered to see that our girl had turned her powerful batteries upon the earl with the evident purpose of conquest. At times her long lashes would fall before him, and again her great luminous eyes would open wide, shedding a soft radiance which no man could withstand. Once I saw her walking alone with him upon the terrace.

Her head was drooped shamelessly, and the earl was ardent though restless, being fearful of the queen. I boiled with rage against Dorothy, but by a strong effort I did not boil over until I had better cause. The better cause came later.

I failed to tell you of a brief conversation which occurred between Sir George and me after my cousin first saw the Earl of Leicester. Sir George had gallantly led the queen to her apartments, and I had conducted Leicester and several of the gentlemen to their various rooms. Sir George and I met at the staircase after we had quitted our guests.

He said: "Malcolm, that fellow Thomas whom I knocked in the head looked no more like Leicester than I do. Why did you tell me there was resemblance?"

"I do not know," I answered. "Perhaps your words suggested the thought of a resemblance. Perhaps I had lost all memory of Leicester's features. I cannot answer your question."

Then an expression of anger came to Sir George's face, and he said:--

"I believe Dorothy lied to me when she said that the fellow Thomas was of n.o.ble blood."

The next day a servant reported that Thomas had been seen loitering near Bowling Green Gate, and Sir George ordered Dorothy not to leave the Hall without his permission.

Dorothy replied to her father's command, "I shall obey you, father."

To me there was a note of danger in her voice. Such docile submissiveness was not natural to the girl. Of course all appearance of harshness toward Dorothy was suppressed by Sir George during the queen's visit to the Hall.

In truth, he had no reason to be harsh, for Dorothy was a meek, submissive, and obedient daughter. Her meekness, however, as you may well surmise, was but the forerunner of dire rebellion.

The fourth day of the queen's presence at Haddon Hall was the one appointed for the visit of the Stanleys, and Sir George thought to make a great event of the betrothal by having the queen act as a witness to the marriage contract. As the day approached Sir George became thoughtful, while Dorothy grew gleeful. The girl was frequently seen with Leicester, and Sir George could not help noticing that n.o.bleman's p.r.o.nounced admiration for his daughter. These exhibitions of gallantry were never made in the presence of the queen. The morning of the day when the Stanleys were expected Sir George called me to his room for a private consultation. The old gentleman was in a state of excitement, not unmixed with perplexity and trouble.

He said, "I have great and good news to impart to you, Malcolm; yet I am in a dilemma growing out of it."

"Tell me the good news first, Sir George," I replied. "The dilemma may wait."

"Is Doll a very beautiful girl?" he asked eagerly.

"I believe she is the most beautiful woman in the world," I answered.

"Good, good," he replied, rubbing his hands. "Is she so fascinating, brilliant, and attractive, think you--of course I speak in jest--but think you she might vie with the court ladies for beauty, and think you she might attract--for the sake of ill.u.s.tration I will say--might she attract a man like Leicester?"

"Unless I am much mistaken," I answered, "Leicester is over his ears in love with the girl now."

"Ah, do you believe so, Malcolm?" replied Sir George, laughing and slapping his thigh, as he walked to and fro across the room. "You have seen so much of that sort of thing that you should know it when it comes under your nose. Eh, Malcolm, eh?"

"I should suppose that any one, however inexperienced in such matters, could easily see Leicester's infatuation for Dorothy. If you wish me to tell you what I really believe--"

"I do, I do," interrupted Sir George.

"I should say," I continued, "that Dorothy has deliberately gone in for conquest. Leave the girl to herself, Sir George. She can conduct the campaign without help from any one. She understands the art of such warfare as well as if she were a veteran."

"Gad, but she does, but she does. I believe she could give Venus herself some good points in the matter. But let me tell you, Malcolm,"--the old man dropped his voice to a whisper,--"I questioned Doll this morning, and she confessed that Leicester had spoken words of love to her. Would it not be a great match for our house?"

He said "our house," mind you, not "our Doll." I might call his condition of mind patrimonial selfishness. Simple old man! He did not know that words of love are not necessarily words of marriage.

"Has Leicester spoken to you?" I asked in alarm for John's sake.

"No, no, he has not spoken," returned my cousin; "for that, of course, he must have the queen's consent. But he will speak, I am sure, all in good time, Malcolm, all in good time."

"How about the Stanleys?" I asked. "They will be here this afternoon."

"That's the devil's finger in the matter," cried Sir George. "That's where my dilemma lies. How shall I put them off, and still retain them in case nothing should come from Leicester? Besides, I am in honor bound to the earl."

"I have a plan," I replied. "You carry out your part of the agreement with the earl, but let Dorothy, at the last moment, refuse to give her consent. Let her ask for more time, on the plea that she does not know her mind. I will suggest to her, if you wish, the part she is to play; but I will conceal from her the fact that you are a party to it."

"No," said the old man, "that would be bad faith toward the earl." After a pause he continued doubtingly: "No, do not speak to Doll. I believe she needs no suggestions in the matter. I fear that mischief is in her mind already. Her easy acquiescence in my wishes have of late had a suspicious appearance. No, don't speak to her, Malcolm. If ever there lived a girl who could be perverse and wilful on her own account, without help from any one, it is my girl Doll. G.o.d bless you, man, if she but knew that I wanted her to reject Stanley, she would have him in spite of h.e.l.l itself. I wonder what she means by her docility and obedience? No, don't speak a word to her on the subject. Let her believe I am serious regarding this marriage, and she will have some plan of her own to raise the devil. I have been expecting signs of it every day. I had determined not to bear with her perversity, but now that the Leicester possibility has come up we'll leave Doll to work out her own salvation, Malcolm. Don't interfere.

No man living can teach that girl a new trick in deviltry. G.o.ds, Malcolm!

I am curious to know what she will be doing, for she certainly will be doing something rather than sign that contract of betrothal."

"But suppose out of obedience to you she should sign the contract?" I asked.

"Malcolm, you don't know Doll," he replied. Then, after a pause, "Neither do I. I wish she were well married."

When I left Sir George, I found Dorothy in close consultation with the queen and two of her ladies. I heard the name of Lord James Stanley spoken amid suppressed laughter, and I suspected Dorothy had on foot some prank touching that young man, to which her Majesty was a party.

After dinner the Stanleys came a-wooing. The party consisted of father, son, and four retainers, who looked as if they had been preserved in alcohol for the occasion, so red were their faces.

The Earl of Derby was a fine old gentleman of the rural type. His n.o.ble son was an uncouth rustic, who had no thought above a stable boy or tavern maid, nor any ambition above horse trading. His attire was a wonder to behold. He wore a ruff of stupendous proportions. His trunks were so puffed out and preposterous in size that they looked like a great painted knot on a tree; and the many-colored splendors of his sleeves, his hat, his hose, and his shoes were dazzling to the eye. Add to this wondrous raiment feet and hands that could not be satisfactorily disposed of, and an unrest of manner painful to behold, and you may possibly conceive the grandiose absurdity of Dorothy's wooer. The sight of him almost made Sir George ill; and his entrance into the long gallery, where the queen was seated with her ladies and gentlemen, and Sir George and his friends standing about her, was a signal for laughter in which her Majesty openly joined.

I shall not lead you through the tedious ceremony of presentation and introduction, nor shall I tell you of the pompous manner in which one of the earl's retinue, a lawyer, read the marriage contract. The fact that the contract was read without the presence of Dorothy, whom it so nearly concerned, was significant of the small consideration which at that time was given to a girl's consent. When all was ready for the signing, Dorothy was summoned.

Sir George stood beside the Stanleys, and his nervousness was painfully apparent. Two servants opened the great doors at the end of the long gallery, and Dorothy, holding up the skirt of her gown, bounded into the room. She kneeled to the queen, and turned toward her uncle Stanley and her lover-cousin with a low bow. Then she courtesied and said--

"Good even, uncle, and how do you do, cousin. Have you come to inspect me, and, perchance, to buy?"

Sir George's face bore an expression of mingled shame, wonder, and alarm, and the queen and her suite laughed behind their fans.

"It is well," continued Dorothy. "Here am I, ready for inspection."

Thereupon she began to disrobe herself before the entire company.

Leicester laughed outright, and the queen and her ladies suppressed their merriment for a moment, and then sent forth peals of laughter without restraint. Sir George stepped toward the girl and raised his hand warningly, but the queen interposed:--

"Silence, Sir George, I command you;" and Sir George retreated to his former place beside the Earl of Derby. Dorothy first removed her bodice, showing her shoulders and a part of her arms, clothed in the fashion of a tavern maid.