The Honorable Miss Part 35

"And you think that will effect a cure, doctor?" asked Mrs. Bell, whose eyes had forced up a little moisture. "The child is frail, oughtn't she to be nourished?"

"In the way I prescribed, my dear madam. Milk diet, without stimulants.

I'll see you again in a couple of days, Miss Matty."

"And you say she's not to get up, doctor?"

"On no account, until I call again."

The doctor departed, and Matty submitted to the remarkably dull life laid out for her.

In the course of the afternoon Mrs. Bell went out. To each friend she met she made the same remarks:

"Matty is very ill. I'm dreadfully anxious about her. Dr. Morris is in close attendance. She's to be kept strictly to her bed, and the greatest care has to be exercised to maintain her feeble strength. It's a heavy trial to have one's child so ill--and from such a cause."

"Dear, dear," the sympathizing neighbor would answer. "What can be the matter, and Matty always looked so fresh and hearty? Do you think she has gone and taken anything, Mrs. Bell? Some people prophesy that we are to have an epidemic of small-pox. It can't be that, surely? Taken so sudden too, for she was about yesterday."

"Small-pox!" retorted Mrs. Bell, with withering scorn. "As if a child of mine who had her vaccination beautifully would have small-pox! No, no, it's heart-blight, neighbor, it's heart-blight, and I doubt if my girl will ever get over it."

"Eh, ah--you don't say so," the neighbor would instantly retort. Now the listener was full of intense curiosity, and longing to learn everything.

Matty Bell ill with a heart affair! No wonder her mother looked troubled. Ah, men were deceivers ever! And who had dared to trifle with her young affections?

Then Mrs. Bell would sigh deeply, and lower her voice, and point in the direction of the Manor. It wasn't for her to name names, but a certain young man had gone far, very far. Why, they could bring an action against him, only they'd scorn to make public their poor child's feelings. Well, well, he might lead another bride, a certain designer, to the altar, but there would be no luck nor happiness for either of them, that Mrs. Bell would say.

It was in this manner that the good lady spread the report which she desired through the gossiping little town. Rapidly did the little piece of gossip swell and magnify. It even travelled into the country, and so huge did its dimensions grow there, that it not only killed Matty, but buried her, and placed a beautiful tablet in white marble over her grave, erected by the repentant Captain Bertram and the remorseful Beatrice Meadowsweet.

Meantime the dying martyr had a very dull time in her bed. She was not the kind of girl to love very deeply--her mother had done her utmost to make the poor child fall in love with Captain Bertram, but when all was said he had only managed to tickle her vanity. Now she considered that he had put her to shame and derision, and she began to dislike him very much. Her sisters fostered this dislike with the tales they brought in from the outside world.

"You're the laughing-stock of the town," Alice would say. "Everybody is talking about you, and having a laugh at you. You needn't suppose that you are pitied, for you are not."

"Oh," groaned Matty. "How I wish, how I do wish, I had never met that horrid, odious man."

"He's not horrid nor odious at all," retorted the practical Sophy. "He looks lovely when he walks about with Beatrice. I saw them yesterday in the Green, and Beatrice came up at once and asked about you. What do you think ma did, Matty? She turned her back on Bee and sailed away. Poor Bee quite colored up, and didn't know what to make of it."

"They say Beatrice is to have a lovely wedding," said Alice. "And Mr.

Ingram is going to have the whole church decorated with flowers. And a bishop is coming down from London to marry them. And Mr. Ingram is going to give Beatrice away himself, for he says she's like a daughter to him.

And there's to be another great party at the Rectory the day of her wedding, Matty, and lots of fire-works in the evening."

"Oh, dear," sighed Matty, "I think Captain Bertram is a very base man."

"You'd better give up that idea," said Alice, "for no one else agrees with you. You know perfectly he never paid you attentions. It was all ma who would think so. And you know, Matty, you can't deny it--you did try to squeeze his hand the first day he danced with you."

"I didn't," said Matty, flushing all over with indignation. "I think you both are cruel. I've had a very heavy trial, and you neither of you sympathize a bit. And I'm sure," continued Matty, in a plaintive voice, "not the least part of it is being stuck in bed now."

"I wonder you stay," said Sophy. "You're in perfect health."

"No, I'm not. Dr. Morris is very anxious about me."

"He isn't. No one is anxious about you. There isn't a thing the matter, except that you and ma like that you should pose as the dying martyr.

Well, good-bye. Sophy and I are going to have some fun this evening."

"Fun, where? Do tell me."

"At the Jenkinses. Their brother Gus has come home; you know how you and Gus used to flirt long ago, Matty. Well, he's back for a fortnight. He has a long red beard, and his face is all over freckles, but he's full of fun, and he laughs like anything. We saw him and he asked for you.

It's a pity you can't come."

"Why can't I come? I don't see why I can't come as well as you."

"Oh, well, we thought you were the dying martyr. Mrs. Jenkins asked us all in to tea, and we are to have tennis afterwards, and then high supper, in honor of Gus. We said you couldn't come, but that we would be there. Alice, it's time for us to dress now. We'll wear our muslins with the pink spots, and those sweet new pink sashes that we got in exchange for the old teapot from Mrs. Middlema.s.s last week. Come along, Alice.

We'll show ourselves to you when we are dressed, Matty."

The girls skipped lightly away, and Matty fidgeted and tossed in her small hot bed.

The house was intensely quiet. Mrs. Bell was away, having taken advantage of a proffered lift from a neighbor to drive into the country to purchase some plums. Matty thought how intolerably dull her evening would be. She reflected on the pleasures of the Jenkinses' tea-party; she thought it would be nice, more than nice, to shake hands again with Mr. Gus. Why shouldn't she go? What was to prevent her? Only her mother's whim. Only the doctor's orders. But both doctor and mother were now far away. She would go, she would defy them both.

Slipping out of bed she flew across the room and drew the bolt of the door. Then she began to dress in quick and nervous haste. She put on her daintiest shoes, and open-work stockings. She arranged her limp hair with care, and finally she donned the gorgeous shot-silk.

The few days in bed had taken away some of her burnt appearance, and slightly moderated her high color. She looked really almost nice as she skipped to the door, and showed herself to her astonished sisters.

"I'm coming, too," she said.

"Then you are cured," said Alice. "I'm glad of it, I'm sure. What did I say, Sophy, when I was coming in."

"You said if anyone could mend up Matty it would be Gus," retorted Sophy.

That fickle Matty blushed. It was a way she had.

CHAPTER XXIV.

EVENTS MOVE APACE.

Mrs. Bell was very successful in her purchase of plums. In her way she was a notable housewife, and she returned home about eight o'clock that evening with a large basket of greengages, which were all to be boiled down for preserving the following day.

As soon as she entered the house the maid came to meet her.

"You take these carefully down and put them in the larder, Hannah," said her mistress. "Be careful you don't knock any of them, or the bloom will go off. Why what's the matter, girl? Is Miss Matty worse?"

"Lor, no, ma'am. Miss Matty is up, and out a-pleasuring, ma'am. But if you please, there's a visitor in the drawing-room who would like to have a word with you the minute you come in."

"A visitor?"

Mrs Bell felt her heart beat. The Northbury people did not stand on ceremony with each other, nor wait in each other's drawing-rooms, for the return of an absent hostess. A wild idea came across Mrs. Bell's brain. Could Captain Bertram have quarrelled with Beatrice, and come back to Matty, his first and only true love.

"A visitor? Male or female?" she inquired of the girl.