Her Season in Bath Part 14

"He is my foe already," Leslie said. "As to danger, sweet one, I do not recognise danger where honour is concerned. Do not talk more about this now, nor mar these first sweet hours of happiness. Say it is not a dream, those blessed words you spoke in the church, Griselda?"

She gave him a look which was more eloquent than any words, and then said, in a low voice:

"I feel as if I had found my rest."

"Dear white-winged dove," was the reply, "if you have been wandering over stormy waters tempest-tossed, let me love to think you have found your rest with me."

They were now at the door of Mrs. Travers's house; Leslie knocked, and it was opened by the old servant, who followed his young master wherever he went--a faithful retainer of the old type of servant, who, through every change and chance, would as soon think of cutting off a right hand as forsake his master's son.

Giles had a most comical face--a ma.s.s of furrows and wrinkles, a mouth which had very few teeth left, and small twinkling eyes. He wore a scratch yellow wig, and a long coat with huge b.u.t.tons, on which was the crest of the Travers--a heron with a fish in its beak--a crest suggestive of the land of swamps and marshes, where herons had a good time, and swooped over their prey with but small fear of the aim of the sportsman--so few were the sportsmen who ever invaded those desolate wild tracks of water and peat-moss.

"Aye, Master Leslie," Giles said, "ye're late, and there's company at dinner."

"It is scarcely one o'clock, Giles. Where is my mother?"

"Up above with the company; and not well pleased you are not there, either."

"Oh!" Griselda said; "I do not wish to stay. Please take me back to the Parade! Let me see Mrs. Travers another day, _please_. I ask it as a favour."

She pleaded so earnestly, that old Giles interposed:

"There's room at my mistress's board for all that care to come. There never yet was a guest sent away for lack of room."

"It is not that--not that," Griselda said.

"Whatever it is," Leslie said, "I cannot let you leave us thus"--for Griselda had moved to the door. "Nay--now, nay--do not be so cruel!"

Here voices were heard on the stairs, and the next moment Mrs. Travers appeared, leaning on the arm of a man who wore a clerical dress, a black coat and bands, and a bag-wig tied with a black bow.

"My son, Mr. Relly," Mrs. Travers said; and then she looked with dismay at the figure by Leslie's side.

It was no time for explanation, and Leslie merely said:

"Miss Mainwaring will dine with us, mother."

"You are late, Leslie," Mrs. Travers replied, in a low, constrained voice; and she did not do more than bow to Griselda, adding: "Our mid-day meal has been waiting for some time. Shall we go to the dining-parlour at once?"

Surely no position could be more embarra.s.sing for poor Griselda. All her dignity and gentle stateliness of manner seemed, under this new condition of things, to desert her. Her large hat scarcely concealed the distress which was so plainly marked on her face, and tears were in her eyes as she said, in a low, trembling voice to Mrs. Travers:

"I fear I intrude, madam?"

But Mrs. Travers was anxious to avoid what she called the hollow courtesies of the world of fashion, and thus she only replied:

"Will you be pleased to remove your warm pelisse? The air is very cold.

Abigail," she said to a maid-servant who had appeared, "conduct this lady to the inner parlour, and a.s.sist her to lay aside her pelisse. Now, Mr. Relly, we will take our seats, and my son will do the honours."

Griselda hastily unfastened her pelisse, but instead of following the maid to the room, she held it towards her; and then, with a gesture which implied her trust in Leslie, she put her hand into his arm, and he led her to the dinner-table, where Giles had taken up his position behind his mistress's chair.

The meal was, as Giles had intimated it would be, very bountiful. Mr.

Relly said a long grace, which was really a prayer, and which Griselda thought would never end.

During dinner the conversation lay between Mr. Relly and Mrs. Travers, if conversation it could be called. It was rather an exchange of religious sentiments, quotations of texts of Scripture, seasoned with denouncements of the vanities of the world, as Bath spread them out for the unwary. Griselda felt that many of Mr. Relly's shafts were directed at her, and she felt increasingly ill at ease and uncomfortable. It was only when she could summon courage to look at Leslie that her spirits rose to the occasion, and she answered him in low, sweet tones when he addressed her.

To the great relief of everyone except Mrs. Travers Mr. Relly took leave before the cloth was drawn, excusing himself on the plea of having to attend upon that aged servant of G.o.d, the Countess, who expected him to consult on important business.

"If I may be so bold, may I beg you to convey my dutiful remembrances to her ladyship?" Mrs. Travers said.

Mr. Relly a.s.sented, but in a manner which implied it was a very bold request to make, and then departed.

As soon as they were alone and Giles had left the room, Leslie rose, and going to his mother's chair, he said:

"I have brought you a daughter to-day, mother. You have often longed for her appearance, and it is with joy and pride that I tell you Miss Griselda Mainwaring has done me the honour to promise to be my wife and your dear daughter."

Mrs. Travers's face displayed varying emotion as her son went on.

Surprise and disapproval were at first prominent; then the certainty that Leslie was in earnest, and that to turn him from his purpose was at all times hopeless, when his mind was set on any particular course of action, brought tears to her eyes.

"Oh, my son!" she began; but Griselda left her chair, and, coming to her side, she said:

"Madam, I pray you to receive me as your daughter. I will try to be a loving and true wife. Madam, I am alone in the world, and as I have been so happy as to win the love of your son, you must needs think kindly of me. I will strive to be worthy of him."

This avowal was so entirely unexpected that Mrs. Travers could not at first speak. This simple confession of love, this sad reference to her lonely condition, this promise to be a true and loyal wife--how unlike the coquettish and half-reluctant, half-triumphant manner which Mrs.

Travers thought a Bath belle would a.s.sume under these circ.u.mstances!

"My dear," she said, after a pause, during which Leslie had thrown his arm protectingly round Griselda--"my dear, may I do my duty to you as my only son's wife? I pray that you may be kept safe in this evil world, and that we may mutually encourage each other to tread the narrow way leading to everlasting happiness."

Griselda bent, and said simply:

"Kiss me, dear madam, in token of your approval;" and Mrs. Travers rose, and very solemnly putting her arm round Griselda, and holding the hand which was locked in her son's, pressed a kiss on the fair forehead of her future daughter-in-law, and uttered a prayer for G.o.d's blessing on her. Then Griselda said, "I must return now to Lady Betty. Will you come, sir?"

"Give me my name," he said. "Let me hear you give me my name."

"There is time enough for that," she said, rallying with an arch smile.

"We will come to that by-and-by."

And soon they were retracing their steps to the North Parade, joy in their hearts, and that sweet sense of mutual love and confidence, which in all times, whenever it is given, comes near to the bliss of the first love-story rehea.r.s.ed in Paradise. Alas! that too often it should pa.s.s like a dream, and that the trail of the serpent should be ready to mar the beauty of the flowers of an Eden like Leslie Travers's, and Griselda Mainwaring's.

CHAPTER X.

A PROPOSAL.

The door of the house in North Parade was opened by Graves.

"Where have you been?" she said anxiously. "Dinner is not only served, but just finished. There have been tantrums about it, I can tell you.

You may prepare for a fuss. Her ladyship----"