Margaret Capel Volume I Part 7

"I shall like it very much--it is very kind of her," said Margaret. "I may, Sir?"

"With all my heart, my child," said Mr. Grey.

"Ay, I should first have asked your uncle, should not I?" said Hubert laughing. "Have you been out to-day?"

"No--not yet."

"Oh! bless me, of course it is too early," said he, taking out a diminutive watch, which looked more striking on him than on a person of ordinary dimensions. "I wonder you are up at this hour."

"You are keeping Miss Gage in the cold all this time," said Margaret.

"So I am, but I cannot get away," he returned, looking archly at her.

She wished she could help colouring, but the beautiful crimson stole over her cheeks at the implied compliment.

"Don't you think us half mad to ride in such weather?" asked Hubert.

"The truth is, I wished to see Bessy in her habit again."

"I think it is better to ride than sit still in the cold," said Margaret. "I shall run out, and tell Miss Gage it is not my fault."

"You will not do any such thing," said Hubert, placing himself in the doorway, "you shall not catch cold for my sins--I am off."

"But Hubert," said Mr. Grey, detaining him, "will you dine with us?

Claude will be very glad, I am sure--and if you could prevail on Miss Gage to accompany you, it would give great pleasure to my little niece."

"I am sure Bessy will be very happy," said Hubert, "as for me, I shall be delighted."

This was said with a distinct bow to Margaret, which left but little doubt of his meaning.

"Only allow me to say to-morrow instead of to-day, because my father goes to a county meeting to-morrow, and so--"

"That will do just as well," said Mr. Grey, "very considerate of you, Hubert."

Mr. Haveloc, who had been standing with some hesitation of manner for some moments, now took a sudden resolution, dashed down the steps, and spoke to Miss Gage. Margaret could see from the window that she greeted him with her usual sweetness of demeanour; and, when her brother was mounted, that she stretched her hand out, which he took with an air of great respect.

Little Margaret, whose brains were somewhat active in giving to every day occurrences the colourings of romance, fancied that their interview was like that of a Queen with some favoured n.o.ble, and as Land's gossip had a.s.signed Mr. Haveloc to Miss Gage in common with a crowd of other suitors, she fancied that, in this instance, there might be some truth in the report. And such a wicked young man! She supposed Miss Gage did not know the dreadful story she had heard about him.

"What a fine young man Hubert Gage has grown," said Mr. Grey, as he returned from the window, "the finest young man I ever saw!"

Margaret coloured as the remark was addressed to her, and went off to her own occupations.

She saw nothing more of Mr. Haveloc during the morning; her studies kept her employed until luncheon, and she had hardly finished her cold chicken when Miss Gage's carriage drove up to the door. She put on her bonnet in a hurry, flew into the hall, and almost ran against Mr.

Haveloc, who was coming up the steps at the moment.

He stopped, took off his hat, and handed her into the carriage. Miss Gage greeted her very kindly--asked her which way she would like to drive; gave her orders; drew up the gla.s.s and drove off.

After a few general remarks, Margaret coloured, paused, played with her boa, and then said:--

"I should like to talk to you about something, if you would not think me foolish."

"What is it, my dear?" asked Elizabeth, taking Margaret's hand; "never mind if it is foolish--we are all foolish sometimes."

"It is such a plague to me, Mr. Haveloc coming," said Margaret. "It spoils everything. I cannot talk to my uncle, or play the organ, or do anything so comfortably now that he is in the house. I cannot stand on the library steps, and read from the shelves;--perhaps you would laugh at this, but you don't know the difference it makes."

"I can very well understand that it does," said Miss Gage, "but Mr.

Haveloc's society is a great happiness to your uncle, and you must weigh that against the embarra.s.sment he makes you feel."

"So I ought," said Margaret.

"I recollect when I knew him, several years ago," said Miss Gage, "although he possessed great powers of pleasing where he was intimate, yet he was a little too reserved in general society."

"And I am sure he is very proud!" said Margaret, eagerly.

Miss Gage laughed at this remark, and made no attempt to exculpate him from the charge: she merely added that she thought him very much altered in appearance, but that a person of his character would be less troublesome as an inmate, to her, than one of a more sociable disposition, since she would very rarely be obliged to enter into conversation with him.

Margaret agreed to this, and the subject was dropped.

Now, had Miss Gage chosen to exercise her wit by jesting with Margaret upon her timidity instead of calmly talking it over, she would have confirmed her in a silly bashfulness, as much opposed as possible to real modesty. As it was, she felt a sort of composure from having _talked through_ a subject she rather dreaded to mention; and her feelings acquired an equilibrium, that very much added to her comfort when she again encountered the person in question. But how few people could have resisted the pleasure of laughing at a young girl about any young man who might chance to be staying in the house.

Mr. Warde came to dinner. Margaret was very glad to see him; but there was so much to be talked over between him and Mr. Haveloc, that there was little time for her to make any historical enquiries. The conversation did not prevent Mr. Haveloc from being very attentive to her, as far as actions went. He took the carving out of her hands--saw that she had every thing she wanted--directed the screen to be altered which protected her but imperfectly from the fire, and mentioned to her that Richards had brought a whole forest of azalias into the library while she was taking her drive; with which piece of information he began and ended his discourse.

She learned, during dinner, that he was very near-sighted, which circ.u.mstance gave her great satisfaction. The certainty that he could not distinguish her across the table, unless he took up his gla.s.s, which she had never seen him do, gave her a confidence and a feeling of freedom, which removed one strong objection she had felt to his presence.

The evening pa.s.sed as usual; as they dined late, the serving of coffee and tea nearly took up the time until they separated. Mr. Warde talked kindly to Margaret about the books she was anxious to read, and Mr.

Haveloc played a game of piquet with Mr. Grey. When she saw how very attentive he was to her dear uncle, she could not help wishing that he was less wicked, but as she remarked to herself, it was no business of hers.

CHAPTER VI.

The pa.s.sions will dispense To such a wild and rapid eloquence, Will to the weakest mind their strength impart, And give the tongue the language of the heart.

CRABBE.

It was a very eventful day for Margaret on which Miss Gage and her brother were to dine at Ashdale, for it might actually be termed a party, and she was to preside at the head of the table.

She took infinite pains with her toilet; chose her very prettiest silk, and allowed her maid as much time as she liked to dress her hair: instead of starting up, as she did on common occasions, after the first half-minute, wringing into a perfect cable the beautiful profusion of her tresses behind, and fastening them up with a comb to the great discomposure of her attendant. All the time the airy plaits were weaving, which were to form the pretty coiffure, designated as the _antique moderne_, Margaret was convincing herself that she was not taking all this trouble because Hubert Gage was coming. Nothing could be so unlikely, or so undignified; it was entirely on account of his sister Elizabeth.

She was dressed so early, that she had plenty of time to spare. She thought she should like to play on the organ; but Land was busy, so was the footman, she dared not ask the coachman to blow: Mason would, she knew, be shocked at the idea; so she sent down to the gardener's boy, who spent the best part of his time in the kitchen, and he came up, shy and awkward enough, but very willing to do his best. Unfortunately, he occasionally left off blowing to listen with open mouth to her performance, thus causing a sudden stop that was very provoking to her.

She was improving so nicely too--her little foot stole over the pedals with as much ease as her fingers over the notes; and when she was in the midst of a very pretty effect, that sharp cessation of sound quite destroyed her patience.

"There, you naughty little boy," said she, "don't you see the wind is out? You must not do that again!"

The little boy, who was a great deal bigger by the way than herself, _did_ do it again, and always in the most provoking places, though the moment she looked he began to blow with renewed vigour.

"I declare," cried Margaret, stamping her foot on the pedals, and producing thereby an awful roar, "I will tell my Uncle Grey the very next time!"