Heartsease; Or, The Brother's Wife Part 45

'John! You might as well be called Man! It is no name at all. That Arthur should have gone and married a wife called Violet!!'

Meanwhile Violet was wondering over the honour she had received, caressing the gift, and thinking of the hopes that had faded over it till patience had done her perfect work. She did not remember her other present till she heard sounds betokening the return of the riders. She placed it on her head, and behold! the cheeks had no more than their own roseate tinting, and she was beginning to hope Arthur would be pleased, when she became aware of certain dark eyes and a handsome face set in jet-black hair, presenting itself over her shoulder in the long gla.s.s.

'You little piece of vanity! studying yourself in the gla.s.s, so that you never heard me come in? Well, you have done it to some purpose. Where did you get that thing?'

'John brought it from Madeira.'

'I did not think he had so much taste. Where have you bottled it up all this time!'

'He forgot it till there was an opportunity for wearing it. Is it not pretty? And this is your silk, do you see?'

'Very pretty, that's the real thing. I am glad to find you in good trim.

I was afraid Theodora had taken you too far, and the heat would knock you up, and the boy would roar till you were all manner of colours.'

'I was hot and tired, but John invited me into his nice cool room, and only think! he showed me Helen's picture.'

'He has one, has he? She was nothing to look at; just like Percy--you know he is come?'

'Yes, he came while I was in John's room. He is not at all like what I expected.'

'No, ladies always expect a man to look like a hero or a brigand. She had just that round face, till the last when I saw her in London, and then she looked a dozen years older than John--enough to scare one.'

'See what he gave me.'

'Ha! was that hers? I remember, it was that my aunt kicked up such a dust about. So he has given you that.'

'Helen said she should like some one to have it who would find as much comfort in it as she did.'

'Comfort! What comfort do you want?'

'Only when I am foolish.'

'I should think so; and pray what is to be the comfort of a bit of coral like that?'

'Not the coral, but the thoughts, dear Arthur,' said Violet, colouring, and restoring the cross to its place within her dress.

'Well! you and John understand your own fancies, but I am glad you can enter into them with him, poor fellow! It cheers him up to have some one to mope with.'

CHAPTER 9

P. Henry.--But do you use me thus, Ned; must I marry your sister?

Poins.--May the wench have no worse fortune, but I never said so.

--K. Henry IV

Arthur met the new-comer, exclaiming, 'Ha! Fotheringham, you have not brought me the amber mouth-piece I desired John to tell you of.'

'Not I. I don't bring Turks' fashion into Christian countries. You ought to learn better manners now you are head of a family.'

Theodora entered, holding her head somewhat high, but there was a decided heightening of the glow on her cheek as Mr. Fotheringham shook hands with her. Lord Martindale gave him an affectionate welcome, and Lady Martindale, though frigid at first, grew interested as she asked about his journey.

The arriving guests met him with exclamations of gladness, as if he was an honour to the neighbourhood; and John had seldom looked more cheerful and more gratified than in watching his reception.

At length came the names for which Violet was watching; and the presence of Lady Elizabeth gave her a sense of motherly protection, as she was greeted with as much warmth as was possible for shy people in the midst of a large party. Emma eagerly presented her two friends to each other, and certainly they were a great contrast. Miss Marstone was sallow, with thin sharply-cut features, her eyes peered out from spectacles, her hair was disposed in the plainest manner, as well as her dress, which was anything but suited to a large dinner-party. Violet's first impulse was to be afraid of her, but to admire Emma for being attracted by worth through so much formidable singularity.

'And the dear little G.o.dson is grown to be a fine fellow,' began Emma.

'Not exactly that,' said Violet, 'but he is much improved, and so bright and clever.'

'You will let us see him after dinner?'

'I have been looking forward to it very much, but he will be asleep, and you won't see his pretty ways and his earnest dark eyes.'

'I long to see the sweet child,' said Miss Marstone. 'I dote on such darlings. I always see so much in their countenances. There is the germ of so much to be drawn out hereafter in those deep looks of thought.'

'My baby often looks very intent.'

'Intent on thoughts beyond our power to trace!' said Miss Marstone.

'Ah! I have often thought that we cannot fathom what may be pa.s.sing in a baby's mind,' said Emma.

'With its fixed eyes unravelling its whole future destiny!' said Miss Marstone.

'Poor little creature!' murmured Violet.

'I am convinced that the whole course of life takes its colouring from some circ.u.mstance at the time unmarked.'

'It would frighten me to think so,' said Violet.

'For instance, I am convinced that a peculiar bias was given to my own disposition in consequence of not being understood by the nurse and aunt who petted my brother, while they neglected me. Perhaps I was not a prepossessing child, but I had deeper qualities which might have been drawn out, though, on the whole, I do not regret what threw me early on my own resources. It has made me what I am.'

Violet was rather surprised, but took it for granted that this was something admirable.

'Your dear little boy, no doubt, occupies much of your attention.

Training and instruction are so important.'

'He is not five months old,' said Violet.

'You cannot begin too early to lead forward his mind. Well chosen engravings, properly selected toys, the habit of at once obeying, the choice of nursery songs, all are of much importance in forming these dear little lambs to the stern discipline of life.'

'You must have had a great deal to do with little children,' said Violet, impressed.

'Why, not much personally; but I believe Emma has sent you my little allegory of the "Folded Lambs", where you will find my theories ill.u.s.trated.'