Heartsease; Or, The Brother's Wife Part 48

'Delicately put!' said Arthur, laughing heartily. 'Why, she had even begun lecturing my father on the n.i.g.g.e.rs!'

'I would not be Lady Elizabeth!' said Mr. Fotheringham.

'Those romantic exaggerations of friendship are not satisfactory,'

said John. 'Emma is too timid to be eccentric herself at present; but a governing spirit might soon lead her on.'

'That it might,' said Theodora, 'as easily as I used to drag her, in spite of her terrors, through all the cows in the park. I could be worse to her than any cow; and this Ursula--or what is her outlandish name, Violet?'

'Theresa; Sarah Theresa.'

'Well, really,' said John, 'it is not for the present company to criticize outlandish names.'

'No,' said Arthur, 'it was a happy instinct that made us give my boy a good rational working-day name, fit to go to school in, and no choice either to give him the opportunity of gainsaying it, like Emma's friend, and some others--Sir Percival that is to be! A hero of the Minerva press!'

'No, indeed--if I was to be Sir Anything, which probably I never shall be, I would hold, like my forefathers, to my good old Antony, which it was not my doing to disregard.'

'Which earned him the t.i.tle of Lumpkin, by which only he was known to his schoolfellow!' said Arthur. 'If you ask after Fotheringham, they invariably say, "Oh, you mean old Lumpkin!" So much for romantic names!'

'Or imperial ones,' said Percy. 'Did not you tell me Theodora came straight from the Palaeologos who died in the West Indies? I always considered that to account for certain idiosyncrasies.'

Theodora was called away to a.s.sist Mrs. Nesbit up-stairs; and as Violet followed, she heard the aunt observing that Percival Fotheringham was more bearish than ever; and that it was intolerable to see him encouraged in his free-and-easy manner when he had thrown away all his prospects.

'For poor John's sake,' began Lady Martindale.

'For his own,' interrupted Theodora. 'He has every right to be at home here, and it is an honour to the place that he should be so.'

'Oh, yes, I know; and he will be expecting your father to exert himself again in his behalf.'

'No, he will be beholden to no one,' said Theodora.

'I do wish his manners were less rough and eccentric,' said Lady Martindale.

'Presuming,' said Mrs. Nesbit; 'in extremely bad taste. I never was more sensible of our good fortune in having missed that connection. There was nothing but their being of a good old family that made it by any means endurable.'

At this. .h.i.t at her brother's wife, Theodora was going to speak, but she forbore, and only wished her aunt good night. It would not be repressed, however; she stood in the gallery, after parting with the elder ladies, and said, loud enough for them to hear,

'I hate good old family, and all such humbug! She was a n.o.ble, self-devoted creature; as much above the comprehension of the rest of the world as her brother!'

'Did you know her well?' said Violet.

Theodora's tone instantly changed. She was not going to gratify childish curiosity. 'I never had the opportunity,' she said, coolly. 'Good night.'

Violet was disappointed; for the tone of enthusiasm had given her a moment's hope that they had at last found a subject on which they could grow warm together, but it was evident that Theodora would never so have spoken had she been conscious of her presence.

The next morning as Arthur and his wife were going down to breakfast, he said, 'We shall see some rare fun now Theodora and Fotheringham have got together.'

Theodora, with her bonnet on, was, according to her usual Sunday fashion, breakfasting before the rest of the party, so as to be in time for school. John and his friend made their appearance together, and the greetings had scarcely pa.s.sed, before John, looking out of window, exclaimed, 'Ah! there's the boy! Pray come and see my G.o.dson. Come, Violet, we want you to exhibit him.'

Arthur looked up with a smile intended to be disdainful, but which was gratified, and moved across, with the newspaper in his hand, to lean against the window-shutter.

'There's John without his hat--he is growing quite adventurous. Very pretty Violet always is with the boy in her arms--she is the show one of the two. Hollo, if Percy has not taken the monkey himself; that's a pa.s.s beyond me. How she colours and smiles--just look, Theodora, is it not a picture?'

If he had called her to look at Johnnie, she must have come; but she was annoyed at his perpetual admiration, and would not abet his making himself ridiculous.

'I must not wait,' she said, 'I am late.'

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, and turned to his paper.

She put on her gloves, and took up her books. Percy meeting her, as she came down the steps, said, 'I have been introduced to your nephew.'

'I hope you are gratified.'

'He has almost too much countenance,' said Percy. 'There is something melancholy in such wistful looks from a creature that cannot speak, just as one feels with a dog.'

'I am afraid he is very weakly,' said Theodora.

'I am sorry to hear it; it seems like a new life to John, and that pretty young mother looks so anxious. Do you see much of her?'

'Not much; I have not time to join in the general Violet worship.'

'They are not spoiling her, I hope. It does one good to see such a choice specimen of womankind.'

'There, don't come any further; I must make haste.'

'Like all the rest,' she thought; 'not a man but is more attracted by feminine airs and graces than by sterling qualities.'

On coming out of church, in the afternoon, John, looking at the beautiful green shady bank of the river, proposed a walk along it; all the party gladly acceded, except Theodora, who, not without a certain pleasure in separating herself from them, declared that there was a child who must be made to say her hymn before going home.

'Can't you excuse her for once?' said Lord Martindale.

'No, papa.'

'Not if I beg her off publicly?'

'No, thank you. There is a temper that must be overcome.'

'Then flog her well, and have done with it,' said Arthur. Deigning no reply, she pounced upon her victim as the procession of scholars came out of church, 'Come, I am waiting to hear you say it. "How doth the little--"'

The child stood like a post.

'That is a Benson, I am sure,' said Mr. Fotheringham. Theodora told him he was right, and went on exhorting the child; 'Come, I know you can say it. Try to be good.

'"How doth--"'

'You know I always keep my word, and I have said I will hear you before either of us goes home.'

'"How doth--"'

'If you please, papa, would you go on? I shall never make her do it with you all looking on.'