The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain Part 80

"He looks ill, you say, Alice?"

"Never seen him look so rosy in my life, miss, nor in such spirits."

Lucy looked into her face, and for a moment's s.p.a.ce one slight and feeble gleam, which no suffering could prevent, pa.s.sed over it, at this intimation of the object which Alley's fancy then dwelt upon.

"He danced a hornpipe, miss, to the tune of the Swaggerin' Jig, upon the kitchen table," she proceeded; "and, sorra be off me, but it would do your heart good to see the springs he would give--every one o' them a yard high--and to hear how he'd crack his fingers as loud as the shot of a pistol."

A slight gloom overclouded Lucy's face; but, on looking at the artless transition from the honest sympathy which Alley had just felt for her to a sense of happiness which it was almost a crime to disturb, it almost instantly disappeared.

"I must not be angry with her," she said to herself; "this feeling, after all, is only natural, and such as G.o.d. in his goodness bestows upon every heart as the greatest gift of life, when not abused. I cannot be displeased at the naivete with which she has forgotten my lover for her own; for such I perceive this person she speaks of evidently is."

She looked once more at her maid, whose eyes, with true Celtic feeling, were now dancing with delight, whilst yet red with tears. "Alice," said she, in a voice of indulgent reproof, "who are you thinking of?"

"Why, of Dandy, miss," replied Alley; but in an instant the force of the reproof as well as of the indulgence was felt, and sho acknowledged her error by a blush.

"I beg your pardon, miss," she said; "I'm a thoughtless creature. What can you care about what I was sayin'? But--hem--well, about him--sure enough, poor Dandy told me that everything is going wrong with him. He doesn't, as I said, speak or smile as he used to do."

"Do you know," asked her mistress, "whether he goes out much?"

"Not much, miss, I think; he goes sometimes to Lady Gourlay's and to Dean Palmer's. But do you know what I heard, miss I hope you won't grow jealous, though?"

Lucy gave a faint smile. "I hope not, Alice. What is it?" But here, on recollecting again the scene she had just closed below stairs, she shuddered, and could not help exclaiming, "Oh, gracious heaven!" Then suddenly throwing off, as it were, all thought and reflection connected with it, she looked again at her maid, and repeated the question, "What is it, Alice?"

"Why, miss, have you ever seen Lord Dunroe's sister?"

"Yes, in London; but she was only a girl, though a lovely girl."

"Well, miss, do you know what? She's in love with some one."

"Poor girl!" exclaimed, Lucy, "I trust the course of her love may run smoother than mine; but who is she supposed to be in love with?" she asked, not, however, without a blush, which, with all her virtues, was, as woman, out of her power to suppress.

"Oh," replied Alley, "not with him--and dear knows it would be no disgrace to her, but the contrary, to fall in love with such a gentleman--no; but with a young officer of the Thirty-third, who they say is lovely."

"What is his name, do you not know, Alice?"

"Roberts, I think. They met at Dean Palmer's and Lady Gourlay's; for it seems that Colonel Dundas was an old brother officer of Sir Edward's, when he was young and in the army."

"I have met that young officer, Alice," replied Lucy, "and I know not how it was, but I felt an--a--a--in fact, I cannot describe it. Those who were present observed that he and I resembled each other very much, and indeed the resemblance struck myself very forcibly."

"Troth, and if he resembled you, miss, I'm not surprised that Lady Emily fell in love with him."

"But how did you come to hear all this, Alice?" asked Lucy with a good deal of anxiety.

"Why, miss, there's a cousin of my own maid to Mrs. Palmer, and you may remember the evenin' you gave me lave to spend with her. She gave a party on the same evenin' and Dandy was there. I think I never looked better; I had on my new stays, and my hair was done up Grecian. Any way, I wasn't the worst of them."

"I am fatigued, Alice," said Lucy; "make your narrative as short as you can."

"I haven't much to add to it now, miss," she replied. "It was observed that Lady Emily's eyes and his were never off one another. She refused, it seems, to dance with some major that's a great lord in the regiment, and danced with Mr. Roberts afterwards. He brought her down to supper, too, and sat beside her, and you know what that looks like."

Lucy paused, and seemed as if anxious about something, but at length asked,

"Do you know, Alice, was he there?"

"No, miss," replied the maid; "Dandy tells me he goes to no great parties at all, he only dines where there's a few. But, indeed, by all accounts he's very unhappy."

"What do you mean by all accounts," asked Lucy, a little startled.

"Why, Dandy, miss; so he tells me."

"Poor Alice!" exclaimed Lucy, looking benignantly upon her. "I did not think, Alice, that any conversation could have for a moment won me from the painful state of mind in which I entered the room. Aid me me now to my bedchamber. I must lie down, for I feel that I should endeavor to recruit my strength some way. If I could sleep, I should be probably the better for it; but, alas, Alice, you need not be told that misery and despair are wretched bedfellows."

"Don't say despair," replied Alice; "remember there's a good G.o.d above us, who can do better for us than ever we can for ourselves. Trust in him. Who knows but he's only trying you; and severely tried you are, my darlin' mistress."

Whilst uttering the last words, the affectionate creature's eyes filled with tears. She rose, however, and having a.s.sisted Lucy to her sleeping-room, helped to undress her, then fixed her with tender a.s.siduity in her bed, where, in a few minutes, exhaustion and anxiety of mind were for the time forgotten, and she fell asleep.

The penetration of servants, in tracing, at fashionable parties, the emotions of love through all its various garbs and disguises, const.i.tutes a princ.i.p.al and not the least disagreeable portion of their duty. The history of Lady Emily's attachment to Ensign Roberts, though a profound secret to the world, in the opinion of the parties themselves, and only hoped for and suspected by each, was nevertheless perfectly well known by a good number of the quality below stairs. The circ.u.mstance, at all events, as detailed by Alley, was one which in this instance justified their sagacity. Roberts and she had met, precisely as Alley said, three or four times at Lady Gourlay's and the Dean's, where their several attractions were, in fact, the theme of some observation.

Those long, conscious glances, however, which, on the subject of love are such traitors to the heart, by disclosing its most secret operations, had sufficiently well told them the state of everything within that mysterious little garrison, and the natural result was that Lady Emily seldom thought of any one or anything but Ensign Roberts and the aforesaid glances, nor Mr. Roberts of anything but hers; for it so happened, that, with the peculiar oversight in so many things by which the pa.s.sion is characterized, Lady Emily forgot that she had herself been glancing at the ensign, or she could never have observed and interpreted his looks. With a similar neglect of his own offences, in the same way must we charge Mr. Roberts, who in his imagination saw nothing but the blushing glances of this fair patrician.

Time went on, however, and Lucy, so far from recovering, was nearly one-half of the week confined to her bed, or her apartment. Sometimes, by way of varying the scene, and, if possible, enlivening her spirits, she had forced herself to go down to the drawing-room, and occasionally to take an airing in the carriage. A fortnight had elapsed, and yet neither Norton nor his fellow-traveler had returned from France. Neither had Mr. Birney; and our friend the stranger had failed to get any possible intelligence of unfortunate Fenton, whom he now believed to have perished, either by foul practices or the influence of some intoxicating debauch. Thanks to Dandy Dulcimer, however, as well as to Alley Mahon, he was not without information concerning Lucy's state of health; and, unfortunately, all that he could hear about it was only calculated to depress and distract him.

Dandy came to him one morning, about this period, and after rubbing his head slightly with the tips of his fingers, said,

"Bedad, sir, I was very near havin' cotch the right Mrs. Norton yestherday--I mane, I thought I was."

"How was that?" asked his master. "Why, sir, I heard there was a fine, good-looking widow of that name, livin' in Meeklenburgh street, where she keeps a dairy; and sure enough there I found her. Do you undherstand, sir?"

"Why should I not, sirra? What mystery is there in it that I should not?"

"Deuce a sich a blazer of a widow I seen this seven years. I went early to her place, and the first thing I saw was a lump of a six-year-ould--a son of hers--playin' the Pandean pipes upon a whack o' bread and b.u.t.ther that he had aiten at the top into canes. Somehow, although I can't tell exactly why, I tuck a fancy to become acquainted with her, and proposed, if she had no objection, to take a cup o' tay with her yestherday evenin', statin' at the time that I had something to say that might turn out to her advantage."

"But what mystery is there in all this?" said his master.

"Mysthery, sir--why, where was there ever a widow since the creation of Peter White, that hadn't more or less of mysthery about her?"

"Well, but what was the mystery here?" asked the other. "I do not perceive any, so far."

"Take your time, sir," replied Dandy; "it's comin'. The young performer on the Pandeans that I tould you of wasn't more than five or six at the most, but a woman over the way, that I made inquiries of, tould me the length o' time the husband was dead. Do you undherstand the mysthery now, sir?"

"Go on," replied the other; "I am amused by you; but I don't see the mystery, notwithstanding. What was the result?"

"I tell you the truth--she was a fine, comely, fiaghoola woman; and as I heard she had the shiners, I began to think I might do worse."

"I thought the girl called Alley Mahon was your favorite?"

"So she is, sir--that is, she's one o' them: but, talkin' o' favorites, I am seldom without half-a-dozen."

"Very liberal, indeed, Dandy; but I wish to hear the upshot."