Mabel Volume Iii Part 7

"I did; but he deserved that, and more."

"I have heard," said Lucy, meekly, "that we have no light to judge, and that nothing but mercy and forgiveness suits us fallen creatures. But more; did you never think that when those prison horrors were over, prosperity and wealth succeeded. Did you not know that you were supremely loved still? Did you not know the power your intellect gave you to direct his aright? You did; and yet you left him to the flattery of such foolish admiration as mine."

"Spare me, oh, spare me," said Millie; wringing her hands, "why do you torment me so?"

"Oh, Millie," Lucy replied, hurrying to her, and kneeling by her side, taking her hand in hers, and looking up entreatingly. "I don't know how I have had the courage to talk as I have done, but it was to make you forgive him. Oh, do Millie. You know he never admired me, he only wished to make me his friend, to reconcile you, for you would not even take in his letters, and what was he to do, unless he forced you back, as you know he has a right, but he wants you to come willingly."

At this moment the clock struck, and Lucy continued even more earnestly.

"For my sake, for his, for yours; for, look how pale and ill you are, and I know you love him, and he is so unhappy."

All this was hurriedly spoken, almost in a breath, for she heard a footstep upon the stair--it came nearer, they both looked to the door, it opened, and Beauclerc entered. Another moment, and he had lifted his weeping wife in his arms, blessing Lucy as he did so.

She waited but one minute longer--to see them together, and then she left them, and ran down stairs. The old butler was waiting anxiously.

"All is well," she said, as she flitted past him. He was going to ask further, but she was gone down the hill, and across the streets, and home, before she stopped to think, and then she went to the garret chamber to seek for Mabel. She found her sitting on her travelling trunk--with her habit on, but her hat laid at her side--thinking sadly, and seriously; but when she saw her, she looked up with ready interest.

"I have said all you told me, and something more," said Lucy, flinging her bonnet down, seating herself on the floor, and laying her head by her side, upon the box.

"Well, and what success did you meet with, my sweet Lucy?"

"Oh, it is all right between them now, for I met him going there, and told him to meet me when I had been with her one hour. He did, and so I am sure I left them happy."

"And are you not more happy yourself, dear Lucy?"

"Yes, I think I am--I hardly know--yes, I believe I am; but I am a new traveller in your track," she said, looking up with a smile.

"And every step is hard to take--I know it, darling, I know it," Mabel said, fondly smoothing the entangled ringlets of her light brown hair; "but you will go on--I know you will, for it leads to happiness at last."

CHAPTER V

O, envy! hide thy bosom, hide it deep: A thousand snakes, with black envenomed mouths, Rest there, and hiss, and feed through all thy heart!

POLLOK.

Caroline had no sooner returned from the ride, which had been to her full of disappointment, than she went to her mother, and begged her to find a remedy for, what she termed, their dependent's insolence. Mrs.

Villars attempted, but in vain, to parry her angry threats--for Caroline was a stranger to the early discipline, which makes a person submit to what is right, for right's sake--and her mother's doctrine of expediency was too deeply engrafted in her disposition, to allow of her adopting any other rule of conduct. Why she imagined that her cousin stood in her way, she scarcely knew herself, except that she felt by instinct, that there was a superiority about her, which placed herself in a lower position. She had never, either, forgiven her resistance of her first attempts to humble her to what she deemed her fit position in the family--and though she had since abstained from any such open attack, her anger had not been the less strong, because it smouldered in silence.

She was conscious that she appeared to less advantage in contrast to Mabel, and she now resolved to remove her. This she boldly declared to her mother, in violent terms, refusing to listen to any excuses, for, what she termed, her bold behaviour--and the latter saw, with horror, that she had raised, in her own family, by careful culture, a power of evil, which was urging her still further in the path of sin and fraud.

To do her justice, she never began with the intention of doing wrong--she always believed herself led on by circ.u.mstances, and compelled by expediency. The remembrance of purer thoughts, shared with her more romantic sister, rose to check her at every step, though seldom strong enough to restrain her altogether.

But it was not so with her daughter--she had no such hallowed nursery recollections--she had often heard her mother's praises of her beauty, but never her prayers for her purity--and, with strong, unrelenting terms, she demanded, what her mother wished, but feared to do?

Mrs. Villars was afraid to refuse, and yet did not know how to gratify her--for how could she send Mabel away without repaying her money? She felt she could not dare to tell her husband, that she had spent such a sum in trifles, which she had now forgotten, or, in the purchase of fashions, which had long grown old; she did not even dare to tell Caroline, that she had been guilty of such meanness. It was impossible to decide; and anxious to gain time, she dismissed her daughter with promises and caresses, hoping to discover some method of evading the annoyances which menaced her.

But as time pa.s.sed on, they only thickened round her--while Caroline became daily more impatient of delay.

From the first day of his introduction to Mabel, Mr. Stokes never appeared to lose sight of her--the slightest chance of meeting was sufficient to bring him to the most unlikely places; and Maria was too shrewd to be ignorant of the nature of his attentions--for there was too much seriousness about them to be easily mistaken, and she watched his movements with bitterness.

Caroline no sooner perceived this, than she hastened to sympathise with her, with more warmth than she had ever before displayed; while she still further fired her jealousy, by artful remarks upon Mabel's beauty and prudery, two qualities which Maria had never possessed, and led her, with little difficulty, to join in begging their mother to get rid of her as soon as possible.

Indeed, with some shew of reason, for spite of every drawback, furnished by circ.u.mstances, they, little knowing the one sorrow of her heart, imagined her at the height of her triumph, and secretly rejoicing over them.

Clair still continued to seek her society--and she, perceiving, at once, from the frankness of his manner, that they met on different terms, rather encouraged his visits--for, in her close attendance upon Lucy, she believed that she perceived a secret regard for him, mingling with all her actions and feelings, forming a part even of her very errors.

Much then as she had lately learnt to esteem Clair, she could not help cherishing the hope, that the altered girl might find in him a supporter in her new ideas of life, while she, with all the grace which had charmed his laughing hours, might, in his graver moments, become now a fit companion.

With these thoughts, though she felt the indelicacy of forwarding such a scheme by any direct means, she encouraged his intimacy with the family, that he might have an opportunity of judging for himself of the alteration which had taken place in Lucy's character.

This required but very little coloring, to be set down as coquetry; but when accused of it, she only laughed, and told them to wait, and see.

Nor was this all. Mr. Morley, who seemed to haunt his nephew, like his shadow, sometimes condescended to bestow some marks of high favor on Mabel, and as Mrs. Villars seldom acted herself without some covert motive, she easily believed that the pleasure with which Mabel received those transitory attentions, was rather caused by her hopes of eventual advantage; for as Hargrave had said, that a large landed property still remained, and as he had no children, the question of what was to become of it at his death, might be one which she was answering to her own satisfaction.

Still the money difficulty remained strong as ever, and made her evade all the schemes of her two daughters, till she perceived that her niece was gaining ground in the favor of all around her; and, though unaware of it herself, was becoming the great attraction of the house. This was an evil which must be checked, and she thought again and again, till, at length, an idea occurred to her, which, though she, at first, rejected, she finally adopted, reasoning with herself, that the interests of her dear children required every sacrifice.

One other difficulty also remained in the affection of Mr. Villars, which rendered him deaf to every insinuation against her--indeed, on the contrary, he remarked, with pleasure, her returning animation of spirits, and took every opportunity of introducing her--thus helping her popularity, to his wife's great annoyance.

To gain her husband, therefore, became a point of importance, as she wished to remove Mabel, at least, with an appearance of kindness; and after many a struggle with her better-self, she resolved to make a bolder attempt, and, choosing one wet afternoon, she went down to the library, to settle some money matters. Mr Villars, too glad to bring his wife to anything so steady as accounts, which she generally avoided, willingly gave her his attention, though to do so, he had to lay down a page of his book, and forget a brilliant idea.

She did not, however, give very much time to figures, and soon managed to enter upon her real business; and when she closed the book, over which they had been looking, she said, with one of her sweetest looks, and she really did look well when she liked--

"My dear, I wish to talk to you about something which is very much on my mind."

"Well, my dear, say anything you like, I have plenty of time."

"You know, then, how kind and good you have been to me in allowing me to bring my niece here--I do a.s.sure you I have felt it deeply, though I have never said anything about it before, it was so like you. Well, now I think it is time to carry out my original intention, and relieve you of the burden, by providing for her in some way. Now, I was thinking if I could get her a place as companion or governess, what an excellent thing it would be for her."

"My love," said her husband, "make yourself perfectly easy; your niece is no burden to me; she is perfectly welcome here, as long as she needs a home--and with regard to her pocket-money, let her fare as the other girls do."

Here, thinking he had settled the matter to the perfect satisfaction of all parties, he took up his book.

"But, my dear," began his wife, and he laid it down again, "consider how unjustly this would be acting; to lead her on with false hopes, when, eventually, she must be unprovided for. How much better to inure her to work when she is young. Indeed, her dear mother entreated me to see to it, and how can I neglect her wishes?"

"Depend upon it, Caroline, your sister would, when thinking of her orphan child, gladly have exchanged a life of hardships, for one of comfort and repose. Why did you not a.s.sure her that I would take care of her?--you know I am neither parsimonious nor poor."

"Ah! but, indeed, I should be more satisfied if I did as I promised."

"You would wrong yourself and me--do not think of it."

"But you must see what a drawback she is to our daughters settling; and, really, for their sakes, poor things, it is to be thought of. I am getting quite anxious about them, having all four out together, and she makes a fifth. Not that I mean, for an instant, to say that she is more beautiful, or has a better figure, or does anything better than they do; for her voice wants a good deal of tuition--but she has an artful way of doing things, which makes her get on, and persuades every one to like her; why, the very servants would rather do anything for her, than any one else. And, only think of her mock modesty, pretending not to care how she looked, and attracting more attention all the time, when she went out riding with that old hat, which hung so long in the pa.s.sage. Really, her airs require a little pulling down."

"Caroline," said Mr. Villars, much vexed at the altered tone of her argument. "I never approved of the plan of depreciating others when they stand in our way, and I once hoped that our daughters--possessing every natural endowment--would not need such a false elevation. Surely they can be admired on their own account, and not simply because there is no one else to admire. Johnson says, 'Every man ought to aim at eminence, not by pulling others down, but by raising himself; and enjoy the pleasure of superiority, whether imaginary or real, without interrupting others in the same felicity.'"

"I am afraid," replied Mrs. Villars, who had listened with some impatience to this quotation, "such moralizing will not get us on in life--the world requires management, at least, I have always found so, and, therefore, I do think that we are not doing our duty by our children, in letting this girl always outshine them. I am sure no parent would be further from such a wish than yourself."