Heartsease; Or, The Brother's Wife Part 91

'Violet,' said Annette, with her face averted, 'don't be sorry, for I could not have been glad of it now; though for their sakes I might have tried to work myself into the feeling. I cannot help telling you, though you will think it more wrong in me, for I shall never see HIM again, and he never said anything.'

'I know whom you mean,' whispered Violet, rightly divining it was Mr.

Fanshawe.

'Don't call it anything,' said Annette, with her head drooping. 'I would not have told even you, but to console you about this. Nothing ever pa.s.sed, and I was silly to dwell on the little things they laughed at me about, but I cannot help thinking that if he had seen any prospect--'

'I wonder if John could--' Violet checked herself.

'O, don't say anything about it!' cried Annette, frightened. 'It may be only my foolish fancy--but I cannot get it out of my mind. You see I have no one to talk over things with now you are gone. I have lost my pair in you, so I am solitary among them, and perhaps that has made me think of it the more.'

'Dearest! But still I think you ought to try to draw away your mind from it.'

'You do not think I ought to try to like Mr. Fotheringham?'

'Indeed, under present circ.u.mstances, I could not wish that.'

'But do you think me very wrong for considering whether I could? I hope not, dear Violet,' said Annette, who shared her sister's scrupulous, self-distrustful character, and had not, like her, been taught, by stern necessity, to judge for herself.

'No, indeed,' said Violet; 'but, since that is settled, he ought to know it at once, and not to be kept in suspense.'

It was not until after much affectionate exhortation that Violet could rouse her sister from talking rather piteously over the perplexity it would have been if his case or hers had been otherwise, arguing to excuse herself in her own eyes for the notion of the marriage for expediency, and describing the displeasure that the knowledge of the rejection would produce at home. It was the first time she had had to act for herself, and either she could not resolve to begin, or liked to feel its importance. Perhaps she was right in saying that Mr.

Fotheringham would be disappointed if he supposed her Violet's equal, for though alike in lowliness, amiability, and good sense, she had not the same energy and decision.

At last the letter was begun, in the style of Matilda and the "Polite Letter Writer" combined, though the meek-spirited Annette peeped through in the connecting links of the set phrases. Violet, who was appealed to at every stage, would fain have subst.i.tuted the simple words in which Annette spoke her meaning; but her sister was shocked. Such ordinary language did not befit the dignity of the occasion nor Matilda's pupil; and Violet, as much overruled as ever by respect for her elder sisters, thought it an admirable composition.

'May I see yours?' asked Annette, resting before making her fair copy.

'And welcome, but it is not worthy of yours.'

'My Dear Mr. Fotheringham,--I wish with all my heart it could be--I am very sorry it must not. Pray say nothing to my father: it would only put her to needless pain. I beg your pardon for not being able to do anything for you. You know how glad I should have been if I had not been obliged to perceive that it would not be really right or kind to either.

Only do let me thank you for liking my dear sister, and forgive us if you are grieved. I am very, very sorry.

'Yours, very sincerely,

'V. H. MARTINDALE.'

Annette raised her eyes in surprise. 'Ah!' said Violet, 'it is of no use for me to try to write like Matilda. I did once, but I am not clever enough; it looked so silly and affected, that I have been ashamed to remember it ever since. I must write in the only way I can.'

Her sister wanted to tear up her letter as a piece of affectation, but this she would not allow. It made her feel despairing to think of spending two hours more over it, and she hoped that she would be satisfied with the argument that the familiar style employed by Mrs.

Martindale towards an old friend might not be suited to Annette Moss when rejecting his suit.

Each sentence underwent a revision, till Violet, growing as impatient as was in her nature, told her at last that he would think more of the substance than of the form.

Next, she had to contend against Annette's longing to flee home at once, by Theodora's own saying, 'London was wide enough for both;' and more effectually by suggesting that a sudden departure would be the best means of proclaiming the adventure. It was true enough that Mr.

Fotheringham was not likely to molest her. No more was heard of him till, two days after, the owl's provider brought a parcel with a message, that Mr. Fotheringham had given up his lodging and was going to Paris. It contained some books and papers of John's, poor little Pallas Athene herself, stuffed, and directed to Master J. Martindale, and a book in which, under his sister's name, he had written that of little Helen. Violet knew he had intended making some residence at Paris, to be near the public libraries, and she understood this as a kind, forgiving farewell. She could understand his mortification, that he, after casting off the magnificent Miss Martindale, should be rejected by this little humble country girl; and she could not help thinking herself ungrateful, so that the owl, which she kept in the drawing-room, as the object of Johnnie's tender strokings, always seemed to have a reproachful expression in its round gla.s.s eyes.

The hope of seeing the expediency of her decision waxed fainter, when she received the unexpected honour of a letter from Lord Martindale, who, writing to intrust her with some commission for John, added some news. 'I have had the great pleasure of meeting with my cousin, Hugh Martindale,' he said; 'who, since the death of his wife, has so overworked himself in his large town parish, as to injure his eyesight, and has been ordered abroad for his health. It does not appear that he will ever be fit to return to his work at Fieldingsby, and I am in hopes of effecting an exchange which may fix him at Brogden in the stead of Mr. Wingfield. When you are of my age, you will understand the pleasure I have in returning to old times. Theodora has likewise been much with him, and I trust may be benefited by his advice. At present she has not made up her mind to give any definite answer to Lord St. Erme, and since I believe she hesitates from conscientious motives, I am the less inclined to press her, as I think the result will be in his favour.

I find him improve on acquaintance. I am fully satisfied with his principles and temper, he has extensive information, and might easily become a valuable member of society. His sister, Lady Lucy, spends much of her time with us, and appears to be an amiable pleasing girl.'

Lord Martindale evidently wished it to be forgotten that he had called Lord St. Erme absurd-looking.

Violet sighed, and tried to counterbalance her regrets by hopes that John would have it in his power to patronize his chaplain. However, these second-hand cares did not hinder her from thriving and prospering so that she triumphed in the hopes of confuting the threat that she would not recover in London, and she gloried in the looks with which she should meet Arthur. A dozen times a day she told her little ones that papa was coming home, till Johnnie learnt to repeat it; and then she listened in ecstasy as the news took a fresh charm from his lips.

She went to meet Arthur at the station; but instead of complimenting her on the renewed carnation of her cheeks, as perhaps, in her pretty conjugal vanity, she had expected, when she had taken such pains with her pink ribbons, he gazed straight before him, and presently said, abruptly, 'Is your sister here?'

Had she been displeasing him the whole time? She only breathed a faint 'Yes.'

'Is Fotheringham in town?'

'No; he is gone to Paris.'

'Then it is humbug, as I thought. I met that precious Miss Gardner in the train going to Worthbourne, and she would have me believe you were getting up a match between those two! A fine story,--not a year since he proposed to Theodora! There was she congratulating me on the satisfaction it must be to Mrs. Martindale!'

'So she wanted to make mischief between us,' said Violet, much hurt.

'Mischief is meat and drink to her. But not a jot did I believe, I tell you, silly child. You are not wasting tears on that crocodile tongue!

I had a mind to tell her to her face that Percy is made of different stuff; and for my own Violet blossom--'

The tears dropped bright and happy. 'Though, dear Arthur, it was true, as far as Percy was concerned. Annette has had to refuse him.'

'A wise girl!' exclaimed Arthur, in indignant surprise. 'But Percy! I could not have believed it. Why would she not have him?'

'Chiefly from thinking it not right to accept him. I hope I did not do wrong in telling her all about it. I thought it only fair, and she did not care enough for him to make the refusal an effort.'

'I should think not! The fickle dog. To go and take up with--No disrespect to Annette,--but after Theodora! So soon, too!'

'I fancied it more pique than inconstancy. There is so much anger about him that I suspect there is more affection than he knows.'

'And you think that mends matters,' said Arthur, laughing. 'Well, I hope Theodora will marry St. Erme at once, so as to serve him right. I am sure she will if she hears of this.'

'And I am afraid Miss Gardner will write to her.'

'That she will, with nice histories of you and me and Annette. And she will tell them at Worthbourne till old Sir Antony disinherits Percy. No more than he deserves!'

She might well be glad of the part she had taken, now that she found her husband so much more alive to the affront to his sister than she had expected. He was in high good-humour, and talked merrily of his expedition, proceeding even to such a stretch of solicitude as to say he supposed 'the brats were all right, as he had heard nothing of them.'

His greeting to Annette was warm and cordial, he complimented her on her sister's recovered looks, and tried to extort a declaration that she looked just like what she had been when he took her from Wrangerton.

Annette peeped out under her eyelashes, smiled, and shook her head timidly.

'Ha! What's your treason, Miss Annette? Does not she look as well as ever?'

'Better, in some ways,' said Annette, looking at Violet, glowing and smiling, with her husband's hand on her shoulder.

'And what in others!'

'I like to look at her better than ever, but I cannot say she is not paler and thinner.'