Miss Mackenzie Part 44

"Yes, of course; but I wish that nothing had occurred to make her so angry with you."

"I don't think that I was impertinent, John, though perhaps it might seem so. When she was talking about my being a companion to a lady, I perhaps answered her sharply. I was so determined that I wouldn't lead that sort of life, that, perhaps I said more than I should have done. You know, John, that it hasn't been quite pleasant between us for the last few days."

John did know this, and he knew also that there was not much probability of pleasantness for some days to come. His mother's last words to him on the preceding evening, as he was leaving her after having told his story, did not give much promise of pleasantness for Margaret. "John," she had said, "nothing on earth shall induce me to live in the same house with Margaret Mackenzie as your wife. If you choose to break up everything for her sake, you can do it. I cannot control you. But remember, it will be your doing."

Margaret then asked him what she was to do, and where she was to live. She would fain have asked him when they were to be married, but she did not dare to make inquiry on that point. He told her that, for the present, she must remain at the Cedars. If she went away it would be regarded as an open quarrel, and moreover, he did not wish that she should live by herself in London lodgings. "We shall be able to see how things go for a day or two," he said. To this she submitted without a murmur, and then Lady Ball came into the room.

They were both very nervous in watching her first behaviour, but were not at all prepared for the line of conduct which she adopted. John Ball and Margaret had separated when they heard the rustle of her dress. He had made a step towards the window, and she had retreated to the other side of the fire-place. Lady Ball, on entering the room, had been nearest to Margaret, but she walked round the table away from her usual place for prayers, and accosted her son.

"Good-morning, John," she said, giving him her hand.

Margaret waited a second or two, and then addressed her aunt.

"Good-morning, aunt," she said, stepping half across the rug.

But her aunt, turning her back to her, moved into the embrasure of the window. It had been decided that there was to be an absolute cut between them! As long as she remained in that house Lady Ball would not speak to her. John said nothing, but a black frown came upon his brow. Poor Margaret retired, rebuked, to her corner by the chimney.

Just at that moment the girls and children rushed in from the study, with the daily governess who came every morning, and Sir John rang for the servants to come to prayers.

I wonder whether that old lady's heart was at all softened as she prayed? whether it ever occurred to her to think that there was any meaning in that form of words she used, when she asked her G.o.d to forgive her as she might forgive others? Not that Margaret had in truth trespa.s.sed against her at all; but, doubtless, she regarded her niece as a black trespa.s.ser, and as being quite qualified for forgiveness, could she have brought herself to forgive. But I fear that the form of words on that occasion meant nothing, and that she had been delivered from no evil during those moments she had been on her knees. Margaret sat down in her accustomed place, but no notice was taken of her by her aunt. When the tea had been poured out, John got up from his seat and asked his mother which was Margaret's cup.

"My dear," said she, "if you will sit down, Miss Mackenzie shall have her tea."

"I will take it to her," said he.

"John," said his mother, drawing her chair somewhat away from the table, "if you flurry me in this way, you will drive me out of the room."

Then he had sat down, and Margaret received her cup in the usual way.

The girls and children stared at each other, and the governess, who always breakfasted at the house, did not dare to lift her eyes from off her plate.

Margaret longed for an opportunity of starting with John Ball, and walking with him to the station, but no such opportunity came in her way. It was his custom always to go up to his father before he left home, and on this occasion Margaret did not see him after he quitted the breakfast table. When the clatter of the knives and cups was over, and the eating and drinking was at an end, Lady Ball left the room and Margaret began to think what she would do. She could not remain about the house in her aunt's way, without being spoken to, or speaking. So she went to her room, resolving that she would not leave it till the carriage had taken off Sir John and her aunt. Then she would go out for a walk, and would again meet her cousin at the station.

From her bedroom window she could see the sweep before the front of the house, and at two o'clock she saw and heard the lumbering of the carriage as it came to the door, and then she put on her hat to be ready for her walk; but her uncle and aunt did not, as it seemed, come out, and the carriage remained there as a fixture. This had been the case for some twenty minutes, when there came a knock at her own door, and the maid-servant told her that her aunt wished to see her in the drawing-room.

"To see me?" said Margaret, thoroughly surprised, and not a little dismayed.

"Yes, Miss; and there's a gentleman there who asked for you when he first come."

Now, indeed, she was dismayed. Who could be the gentleman? Was it Mr Slow, or a myrmidon from Mr Slow's legal abode? Or was it Mr Rubb with his yellow gloves again? Whoever it was there must be something very special in his mission, as her aunt had, in consequence, deferred her drive, and was also apparently about to drop her purpose of cutting her niece's acquaintance in her own house.

But we will go back to Mr Maguire. He had pa.s.sed the evening and the morning in thinking over the method of his attack, and had at last resolved that he would be very bold. He would go down to the Cedars, and claim Margaret as his affianced bride. He went, therefore, down to the Cedars, and in accordance with his plan as arranged, he gave his card to the servant, and asked if he could see Sir John Ball alone. Now, Sir John Ball never saw any one on business, or, indeed, not on business; and, after a while, word was brought out to Mr Maguire that he could see Lady Ball, but that Sir John was not well enough to receive any visitors. Lady Ball, Mr Maguire thought, would suit him better than Sir John. He signified his will accordingly, and on being shown into the drawing-room, found her ladyship there alone.

It must be acknowledged that he was a brave man, and that he was doing a bold thing. He knew that he should find himself among enemies, and that his claim would be ignored and ridiculed by the persons whom he was about to attack; he knew that everybody, on first seeing him, was affrighted and somewhat horrified; he knew too,--at least, we must presume that he knew,--that the lady herself had given him no promise. But he thought it possible, nay, almost probable, that she would turn to him if she saw him again; that she might own him as her own; that her feelings might be strong enough in his favour to induce her to throw off the thraldom of her relatives, and that he might make good his ground in her breast, even if he could not bear her away in triumph out of the hands of his enemies.

When he entered the room Lady Ball looked at him and shuddered.

People always did shudder when they saw him for the first time.

"Lady Ball," said he, "I am the Rev. Mr Maguire, of Littlebath."

She was holding his card in her hand, and having notified to him that she was aware of the fact he had mentioned, asked him to sit down.

"I have called," said he, taking his seat, "hoping to be allowed to speak to you on a subject of extreme delicacy."

"Indeed," said Lady Ball, thinking to catch his eye, and failing in the effort.

"I may say of very extreme delicacy. I believe your niece, Miss Margaret Mackenzie, is staying here?" In answer to this, Lady Ball acknowledged that Miss Mackenzie was now at the Cedars.

"Have you any objection, Lady Ball, to allowing me to see her in your presence?"

Lady Ball was a quick-thinking, intelligent, and, at the same time, prudent old lady, and she gave no answer to this before she had considered the import of the question. Why should this clergyman want to see Margaret? And would his seeing her conduce most to her own success, or to Margaret's? Then there was the fact that Margaret was of an age which ent.i.tled her to the right of seeing any visitor who might call on her. Thinking over all this as best she could in the few moments at her command, and thinking also of this clergyman's stipulation that she was to be present at the interview, she said that she had no objection whatever. She would send for Miss Mackenzie.

She rose to ring the bell, but Mr Maguire, also rising from his chair, stopped her hand.

"Pardon me for a moment," said he. "Before you call Margaret to come down I would wish to explain to you for what purpose I have come here."

Lady Ball, when she heard the man call her niece by her Christian name, listened with all her ears. Under no circ.u.mstances but one could such a man call such a woman by her Christian name in such company.

"Lady Ball," he said, "I do not know whether you may be aware of it or no, but I am engaged to marry your niece."

Lady Ball, who had not yet resumed her seat, now did so.

"I had not heard of it," she said.

"It may be so," said Mr Maguire.

"It is so," said Lady Ball.

"Very probably. There are many reasons which operate upon young ladies in such a condition to keep their secret even from their nearest relatives. For myself, being a clergyman of the Church of England, professing evangelical doctrines, and therefore, as I had need not say, averse to everything that may have about it even a seeming of impropriety, I think it best to declare the fact to you, even though in doing so I may perhaps give some offence to dear Margaret."

It must, I think, be acknowledged that Mr Maguire was true to himself, and that he was conducting his case at any rate with courage.

Lady Ball was doubtful what she would do. It was on her tongue to tell the man that her niece's fortune was gone. But she remembered that she might probably advance her own interests by securing an interview between the two lovers of Littlebath in her own presence.

She never for a moment doubted that Mr Maguire's statement was true.

It never occurred to her that there had been no such engagement.

She felt confident from the moment in which Mr Maguire's important tidings had reached her ears that she had now in her hands the means of rescuing her son. That Mr Maguire would cease to make his demand for his bride when he should hear the truth, was of course to be expected; but her son would not be such an idiot, such a soft fool, as to go on with his purpose when he should learn that such a secret as this had been kept back from him. She had refused him, and taken up with this horrid, greasy, evil-eyed parson when she was rich; and then, when she was poor,--even before she had got rid of her other engagement, she had come back upon him, and, playing upon his pity, had secured him in her toils. Lady Ball felt well inclined to thank the clergyman for coming to her relief at such a moment.

"It will be best that I should ask my niece to come down to you,"

said she, getting up and walking out of the room.

But she did not go up to her niece. She first went to Sir John and quieted his impatience with reference to the driving, and then, after a few minutes' further delay for consideration, she sent the servant up to her niece. Having done this she returned to the drawing-room, and found Mr Maguire looking at the photographs on the table.

"It is very like dear Margaret, very like her, indeed," said he, looking at one of Miss Mackenzie. "The sweetest face that ever my eyes rested on! May I ask you if you have just seen your niece, Lady Ball?"

"No, sir, I have not seen her; but I have sent for her."

There was still some little delay before Margaret came down. She was much fluttered, and wanted time to think, if only time could be allowed to her. Perhaps there had come a man to say that her money was not gone. If so, with what delight would she give it all to her cousin John! That was her first thought. But if so, how then about the promise made to her dying brother? She almost wished that the money might not be hers. Looking to herself only, and to her own happiness, it would certainly be better for her that it should not be hers. And if it should be Mr Rubb with the yellow gloves! But before she could consider that alternative she had opened the door, and there was Mr Maguire standing ready to receive her.

"Dearest Margaret!" he exclaimed. "My own love!" And there he stood, with his arms open, as though he expected Miss Mackenzie to rush into them. He was certainly a man of very great courage.

"Mr Maguire!" said she, and she stood still near the door. Then she looked at her aunt, and saw that Lady Ball's eyes were keenly fixed upon her. Something like the truth, some approximation to the facts as they were, flashed upon her in a moment, and she knew that she had to bear herself in this difficulty with all her discretion and all her fort.i.tude.