Luttrell Of Arran Part 43

"She whisked about this way"--here Mr. Rickards made a bold pirouette--"and said something in high Dutch that I feel sure wasn't a blessing."

"Tell me one thing, Rickards," said the lawyer, in a lower tone, and with the air of a complete confidant. "What's this little game she's playing about that Irish girl, writing to my lady that she's a genius, that she can do this, that, and t'other, and that you've only to show her a book, and she knows it from cover to cover?"

"And don't you see what it is, Sir?" said Rickards, with one eye knowingly closed; "don't you see it, Sir?"

"No, Rickards, I do not."

"It's all the way that little sarpent has of comin' round her. Of all the creatures ever I seen, I never knew her equal for cunning. It ain't any use knowing she's a fox--not a bit of it, Sir--she'll get round you all the same. It's not an easy thing to get to the blind side of Mrs.

Byles, I promise you. She's a very knowledgeable woman, lived eleven years under a man-cook at Lord Wandsford's, and knows jellies, and made French dishes as well as Monsieur Honore himself. Well, Sir, that imp there winds her round her finger like a piece of packthread. She goes and says, 'Byles'--she doesn't as much as Mrs. Byles her, the way my lady would--but 'Byles,' says she, 'if ever I come to be a great lady and very rich, I'll have you to keep my house, and you shall have your own nice sittin'-room, and your own maid to wait on you, and a hundred a year settled on you for your life.' I vow it's a fact, Sir, wherever she heard of such a thing, but she said 'settled on you for life;' and then, Sir, she'll sit down and help her with the strawberry-jam, or the brandy-peaches, or whatever it is, and Mrs. Byles says there wouldn't be her equal in all England, if she only took to be a still-room maid."

"And can she humbug Mr. Rickards? Tell me that," asked the lawyer, with the leer of an old cross-examiner.

"Well, I do think, Sir, she can't do that. It's not every one as could."

"No, Rickards; you and I know how to sleep with one eye open. But what does she mean by all this cunning--what does she intend by it?"

"There's what I can't come at, nohow, Sir; for, as I say, what's the good of plotting when you have everything at your hand? She hasn't no need for it, Mr. M'Kinlay. She has the same treatment here as Miss Ada herself--it was the master's orders."

"It puzzles me, Rickards: I own it puzzles me," said the lawyer, as, with his hands deep! in his pockets, he took a turn or two in the room.

"They say, Sir, it's the way of them Irish," said Rickards, with the air of a man enunciating a profound sentiment; but M'Kinlay either did not hear, or did not value the remark, for, after a pause, he said, "Its just possible, after all, Rickards, that it's only a way she has. Don't you think so?"

"I do not, Sir," replied he, stoutly. "If there wasn't more than that in it, she wouldn't go on as I have seen her do, when she thought she was all alone."

"How so? What do you mean?"

"Well, you see, Sir, there's a laurel hedge in the garden, that goes along by the wall where the peach-trees are, and that's her favourite walk, and I've watched her when she was there by herself, and it was as good as any play to see her."

"In what respect?"

"She'd be making believe all sorts of things to herself--how that she was a fine lady showing the grounds to a party of visitors, telling them how she intended to build something here and throw down something there, what trees she'd plant in one place, and what an opening for a view she'd made in another. You'd not believe your ears if you heard how glibly she'd run on about plants and shrubs and flowers. And then suddenly she'd change, and pretend to call her maid, and tell her to fetch her another shawl or her gloves; or she'd say, 'Tell George I shall not ride to-day, perhaps I'll drive out in the evening.' And that's the way she'd go on till she heard the governess coming, and then, just as quick as lightning, you'd hear her in her own voice again, as artless as any young creature you ever listened to."

"I see--I see," said M'Kinlay, with a sententious air and look, as though he read the whole case, and saw her entire disposition revealed before him like a plan. "A shrewd minx in her own way, but a very small way it is. Now, Rickards, perhaps you'd tell Miss Heinzleman that I'm here--of course, not a word about what we've been talking over."

"You couldn't think it, Sir."

"Not for a moment, Rickards. I could trust to your discretion like my own."

When Mr. M'Kinlay was left alone, he drew forth some letters from his pocket, and sought out one in a small envelope, the address of which was in a lady's writing. It was a yery brief note from Miss Courtenay to himself, expressing her wish that he could find it convenient to run down, if only for a day, to Wales, and counsel Mademoiselle Heinzleman on a point of some difficulty respecting one of her pupils. The letter was evidently written in terms to be shown to a third party, and implied a case in which the writer's interest was deep and strong, but wherein she implicitly trusted to the good judgment of her friend, Mr. M'Kinlay, for the result.

"You will hear," wrote she, "from Mademoiselle Heinzleman the scruples she has communicated to myself and learn from her that all the advantages derivable from my brother-in-law's project have been already realised, but that henceforth difficulties alone may be apprehended, so that your consideration will be drawn at once to the question whether this companionship is further necessary, or indeed advisable." She went on to state that if Sir Gervais had not told her Mr. M'Kinlay would be obliged to go down to the cottage for certain law papers he required, she would have scarcely ventured on imposing the present charge upon him, but that she felt a.s.sured, in the great regard he had always expressed for the family, of his ready forgiveness.

A small loose slip, marked "Strictly private and confidential," was enclosed within the note, the words of which ran thus: "You will see that you must imply to Mademoiselle H. that she has written to me, in the terms and the spirit of _my_ letter to _her_, and in this way pledge her to whatever course you mean to adopt. This will be easy, for she is a fool.

"I cannot believe that all the interest she a.s.sumes to take in K.

is prompted by the girl's qualities, or her apt.i.tude to learn, and I gravely suspect she has my brother-in-law's instructions on this head.

This plot, for plot it is, I am determined to thwart, and at any cost.

The girl must be got rid of, sent to a school, or if no better way offer, sent home again. See that you manage this in such a way as will not compromise yourself, nor endanger you in the esteem of

"G. C."

This last line he re-read before he enclosed the slip in his pocket-book, muttered to himself the words, "endanger you in the esteem of Georgina Courtenay."

"I wonder what she means by all this?" muttered he, as he folded the loose slip and placed it within the recess of his pocket-book. "The whole scheme of educating this girl was never a very wise one, but it need not have called up such formidable animosity as this. Ah, Mademoiselle, I am charmed to see you looking so well; this mountain air agrees with you," said he, as the governess entered. "I have come down to search for some doc.u.ments Sir Gervais tells me I shall find in his desk, here, and will ask you to let me be your guest for twenty-four hours."

Mademoiselle professed the pleasure his visit would confer, and in an interchange of compliments some time was pa.s.sed; at length, Mr.

M'Kinlay, as if suddenly remembering himself, said, "By the way here is a note I have just received from Miss Courtenay; I think you may as well read it yourself."

The lawyer watched her face keenly as she read over the letter, and saw clearly enough, in the puzzled expression of her features, that she was trying to recal what she could have written in her last letter to Rome.

"Sonderbar, es ist sonderbar: it is strange, very strange," muttered she, evidently lost in doubt, "for in my letter of this morning from Lady Vyner, she says that we shall probably soon be sent for to Italy, for that her mother has a great longing to see Ada; and yet there is no hint whatever about Kate."

"Does she mention that she expects Miss O'Hara to accompany you?" asked he.

"She does not say so; her words are, 'Do not feel startled if my next letter will call you to us, for her grandmother is most anxious to see Ada;' and then she goes on to say what different routes there are, and where Sir Gervais could meet us."

"I think I understand the reserve," said Mr. M'Kinlay, with an air of much wisdom; "her Ladyship addresses herself to one question solely, and leaves all outside of it to be dealt with by others. It is for us--for you, Mademoiselle, and I, to think of what is to be done with Miss O'Hara."

"What is there to be done but take her with us?--without, indeed, you were to send her home again," said she, with some agitation in her voice.

"That is the whole question, Mademoiselle; we must think over it carefully, and, first of all, I must examine certain papers here, which will explain what are the legal claims of this young lady, and who are her guardians; for I remember, though Mr. Grenfell was to have acted, and, indeed, his name was written in pencil, Sir Gervais changed his mind, and thought of another trustee. For all these matters I shall want a little time, and perhaps it will not be asking too great a favour if I were to beg, to let me have my whole day to myself in the library, and the churlish privilege of being alone."

The governess acceded politely to his proposal, not sorry, perhaps, to have a short interval to herself for consideration over the question before her, and still better pleased, too, that the girls were not destined to lose the long wished-for delight of a day at Dalradern.

CHAPTER XXVIII. SIR WITHIN "AT HOME."

If the two young girls whose visit Sir Within Wardle was expecting had been Princesses of a Royal House, he could scarcely have made more preparations for their reception. Who knows if he did not, indeed, feign to himself that his castle was on that morning to be honoured by the presence of those who move among lesser humanities, as suns do among inferior orbs? It would have certainly been one of those illusions natural to such a man; he loved that great world, and he loved all that revived it in his memory; and so when he gave orders that all the state furniture of the castle should be uncovered, the handsomest rooms thrown open, and the servants in their dress liveries, the probability is, that the fete he was giving was an offering secretly dedicated to himself.

In the old court-yard, beautiful plants, magnolias, camellias, and rare geraniums were arranged, regardless that the nipping cold of a sharp winter's day was to consign so many of them to an early death; and over the fountain and the statues around it, beautiful orchids were draped--delicate tendrils torn from the genial air of the conservatory, to waste a few hours of beauty ere they drooped for ever.

Sir Within heard the remonstrances of his afflicted gardener with the bland dignity he would have listened to a diplomatic "reclamation;"

and then instantly a.s.sured him that his representations should have due weight on the next similar occasion, but, for the present, his commands were absolute. The comments of a household disturbed on a pretext so humble may be easily imagined. The vested interests of major-domo, and butler, and housekeeper, are not inst.i.tutions to be lightly dealt with, and many indeed were the unflattering commentaries bestowed on the intelligence and understanding of him who had turned the house out of the windows for a couple of "school-girls." But guesses that actually rose to the impertinence of impeachment of his sanity were uttered, when the old Baronet came down stairs, wearing his ribbon and his star.

And it was thus attired that he received them as they drove into the court, and alighted at the foot of the grand staircase.

"You see, young ladies," said he, with a courtly smile, "that I deem the honour of your visit no small distinction. That old river-G.o.d yonder and myself have put on our smartest coats; and it is only to be hoped neither of us will be the worse for our 'Bath.'"

Ada smiled graciously and bowed her thanks; but Kate, with a sparkle in her eye, muttered, in his hearing too, "How neatly said!" a little compliment that fluttered the old man, bringing back days when a happy _mot_ was a success only second to a victory.

"As you have never been here before, you must allow me to be your 'Cicerone;' and I'll be a more merciful one than Mrs. Simc.o.x, my housekeeper, who really would not spare you one of my ancestors since the Conquest. These grim people, then, at either side of us are Withins or Wardles; nine generations of excellent mortals are gazing on us; that dark one yonder, Sir Hugh, was standard-bearer to Henry the Second; and that fair-faced damsel yonder, was maid of honour to Queen Elizabeth, and betrothed to her cousin, Sir Walter Raleigh, whom she threw off in a fit of jealousy; the ma.s.sive ring that she wears on her finger is described in the chronicle, as 'an auncient seale of Sir Walter with his armes."

"So that," said Kate, "we may infer that at the time of the portrait she was yet betrothed."

Sir Within was pleased at a remark that seemed to show interest in his description; and henceforth, unconsciously indeed, directed most of his attention to her.

"We had not many warriors amongst us," continued he. "Most of my ancestors were statesmen or penmen. The thin, hard-visaged man yonder, however, was killed at Dettingen; that sweet-faced girl--she looks a mere girl--was his wife."