Heartsease; Or, The Brother's Wife Part 41

said John, smiling, 'who would marry Theodora.'

'Oh! how can you say so? She is so like Arthur.'

John laughed. 'No, I give up the hope of a Petruchio.'

'But Mr. Wingfield, I thought--'

'Wingfield!' said John, starting. 'No, no, that's not likely.'

'Nor Lord St. Erme!'

'I hope not. He is fancy-bit, I suppose, but he is not her superior.

Life with him would harden rather than tame her. No. After all, strangely as she has behaved about him, when she has him in sight, I suspect there is one person among us more likely to soften her than any other.'

'Arthur?'

'Arthur's son.'

'Oh! of course, and if she will but love my Johnnie I don't much care about his mamma.'

CHAPTER 8

In glowing health, with boundless wealth, But sickening of a vague disease, You know so ill to deal with time, You needs must play such pranks as these.

--TENNYSON

In spite of herself, Theodora's heart bounded at the prospect of having Arthur's child in the house. She visited the babies in the village, and multiplying their charms by the superior beauty of Arthur and his wife, proportionably raised her expectations, but, of course, she betrayed none of her eagerness, and would not give up one iota of her course of village occupations for the sake of being at home for the arrival.

Nevertheless, she returned across the park, through burning sunshine, at double-quick pace, only slackened on seeing a carriage, but it proved to be her aunt, who was being a.s.sisted out of it, and tottering up the steps with the help of Lady Martindale's arm, while Miss Piper, coming down to give her a.s.sistance, informed them that the party had arrived about an hour before. The two gentlemen had gone out, and Mrs. Arthur Martindale was in her own room.

Trembling with eagerness, Theodora followed the tardy steps of her mother and aunt as they mounted the stairs. As they entered the gallery, a slender figure advanced to meet them, her apple-blossom face all smiles, and carrying a thing like a middle-sized doll, if doll had ever been as bald, or as pinched, or as skinny, or flourished such spare arms, or clenched such claw-like fingers. Was this the best she could give Arthur by way of son and heir? Yet she looked as proud and exulting as if he had been the loveliest of children, and the little wretch himself had a pert, lively air of speculation, as if he partook her complacency.

Lady Martindale gave her stately greeting, and Mrs. Nesbit coldly touched her hand; then Theodora, with some difficulty, p.r.o.nounced the words, 'How are you?' and brought herself to kiss Violet's cheek, but took no apparent notice of the child, and stood apart while her mother made all hospitable speeches, moving on, so as not to keep Mrs. Nesbit standing.

Theodora followed her aunt and mother, and as soon as the baize door was shut on them, Violet hugged her baby closely, whispering, 'No welcome for the poor little boy! n.o.body cares for him but his own mamma! Never mind, my Johnnie, we are not too grand to love each other.'

Theodora in the meantime could not help exclaiming, 'Poor child! It is just like a changeling!'

'Don't talk of it, my dear,' said Lady Martindale, with a shudder and look of suffering. 'Poor little dear! He looks exactly as your poor little brother did!' and she left the room with a movement far unlike her usually slow dignified steps.

'Ah!' said her aunt, in a tone between grief and displeasure; 'here's a pretty business! we must keep him out of her way! Don't you ever bring him forward, Theodora, to revive all that.'

'What is the meaning of it?' said Theodora. 'I did not know I ever had another brother.'

'It was long before your time, my dear, but your mamma has never entirely got over it, though he only lived nine weeks. I would not have had the recollection recalled on any account. And now John has brought this child here! If he was to die here I don't know what the effect on your mamma would be.'

'He is not going to die!' said Theodora, hastily; 'but let me hear of my other brother, aunt.'

'There is nothing to hear, my dear,' said Mrs. Nesbit. 'How could the girl think of bringing him on us without preparation? An effect of John's spoiling her, of course. She expects him to be made much of; but she must be taught to perceive this is no house of which she can make all parts a nursery.'

'Let me hear about my brother,' repeated Theodora. 'How old would he be?

What was his name?'

'His name was Theodore. He never could have lived,' said Mrs. Nesbit: 'it was much as it was with this child of Arthur's. He was born unexpectedly at Vienna. Your mamma had a dreadful illness, brought on by your father's blundering sudden way of telling her of the death of poor little Dora and Anna. He has not a notion of self-command or concealment; so, instead of letting me prepare her, he allowed her to come home from the drive, and find him completely overcome.'

Theodora better understood her mother's stifled sympathy for Violet, and her father's more openly shown feeling for Arthur.

'We were in great alarm for her,' continued Mrs. Nesbit, 'and the poor child was a miserable little thing, and pined away till we thought it best to send him home to be under English treatment; and your father chose to go with him to see John, who was in a very unsatisfactory state.'

'And mamma did not go?'

'She was unfit for the journey, and I remained with her. It was a fortunate arrangement of mine, for I knew he could not survive, and anxiety for him r.e.t.a.r.ded her recovery, though we had hardly ever let her see him.'

'Then he died?--how soon?'

'At Frankfort, a fortnight after we parted with him. It was a dreadful shock to her; and if it had happened in the house, I do not think she would ever have recovered it. Was it a fortnight? Yes, I know it was; for it was on the 3rd of September that I had your papa's letter.

We were going to a party at Prince K--'s, where there was to be a celebrated Italian improvisatrice, and I would not give her the letter till the next morning.'

Theodora stared at her in incredulous horror.

'It threw her back sadly; but I did my utmost to rally her spirits, and her health did not suffer so materially as I feared; but she has strong feelings, and the impression has never been entirely removed. She scarcely ventured to look at Arthur or at you. How could your papa have let this child come here?'

'Is he like poor little Theodore?' said the sister.

'Only as one wretched-looking baby is like another. This one is not a bit like the Martindales; it is exactly his mother's face.'

'Is he buried here?'

'Who--Theodore? Yes; your papa came home, and managed matters his own way, sent off all the governesses, put John under that ignorant old nurse, and began the precious intimacy with the Fotheringhams, that led to such results. I could have told him how it would be; but I believe he did repent of that!'

'Did John know about Theodore?'

'No; his sisters' death had such an effect on him that they kept the knowledge from him. You had better never mention it, my dear; and especially,' she added, somewhat pleadingly, 'I would not have the party at the Prince's transpire to your papa.'

Theodora felt her indignation would not endure concealment much longer.

She called Miss Piper, and hastened away, the next moment finding herself vis-a-vis with John.

'Are you just come in?' said he, greeting her.

'No, I have been with my aunt. How are you now?'

'Quite well, thank you. I wish you could have come to Ventnor. You would have enjoyed it very much.'

'Thank you.'