The Martins Of Cro' Martin Volume I Part 12

"Don't you remember Catty Henderson, Joe?" said his mother, as he came into the room, and presenting a young girl, very plainly but neatly dressed, who arose to receive him with an air of well-bred composure,--"Catty, that used to be your playfellow long ago?"

"I didn't know you were in Ireland, Miss Henderson. I should never have recognized you," said Nelligan, in some confusion.

"Nor was I till a few days back," said she, in an accent very slightly tinged with a foreign p.r.o.nunciation. "I came home on Tuesday."

"Isn't she grown, joe? and such a fine girl, too. I always said she 'd be so; and when the others would have it that your nose was too long for the rest of your features, I said, 'Wait till she grows up,--wait till she 's a woman;' and see now if I 'm not right."

It must be owned that Joe Nelligan's confusion during the delivery of this prophetic criticism was far greater than Catty's own, who received the speech with a low, gentle laugh, while Mrs. Nelligan went on: "I made her stay till you came back, Joe, for I wanted her to see what a tall creature you are, and not more than twenty,--her own age to a month; and I told her what a genius you turned out, indeed, to the surprise of us all, and myself, especially."

"Thank you, mother," said he, smiling.

"No, indeed, my dear, 't is your father you may thank for all your talents and abilities; a wonderful man he is, beginning the world without a sixpence; and there he is now, with I 'm sure I don't know how many hundreds a year in land,--ay, Catty, in broad acres; just like any squire in the county. Well, well, there 's many a change come over the country since you were here,--how many years is it now?"

"Upwards of twelve," said the young girl. "Dear me, how time flies! It seems like yesterday that you and Joe had the measles together, in the yellow room up at Broom Lodge, and your poor mother was alive then, and would insist on giving you everything cool to drink, just because you liked it, though I told her that was exactly the reason it was sure to be bad for you; for there 's nothing so true in life,--that everything we wish for is wrong."

"An unpleasant theory, certainly," said Catty, laughing; "but I hope not of universal application, for I have been long wishing to see you again."

"Well, well, who knows whether it may be good or bad," said she, sighing; "not but I 'm pleased to see you growing up the image of your poor dear mother,--taller, maybe, but not so handsome, nor so genteel-looking; but when you have your trials and troubles, as she had, maybe that will come, too, for I often remarked, there 's nothing like affliction to make one genteel."

"Why, mother, you are profuse in unhappy apothegms this morning," said Joe.

"And you are coming to stay amongst us now, Catty; or are you going back to France again?" said Mrs. Nelligan, not heeding the remark.

"I scarcely know, as yet," replied the young girl. "My father's letter to summon me home said something about placing me as a governess, if I were capable of the charge."

"Of course you are, my dear, after all your advantages; not but that I 'd rather see you anything else,--a nice light business; for instance, in baby-linen or stationery, or in Miss Busk's establishment, if that could be accomplished."

A very slight flush--so slight as to be nearly imperceptible--crossed the young girl's cheek, but not a syllable escaped her, as Mrs. Nelligan resumed,--

"And there was an excellent opening the other day at the Post here, in the circulating-library way, and lending out a newspaper or two. I don't know how much you might make of it. Not but maybe you 'd rather be companion to a lady, or what they call a 'nervous invalid.'"

"That, too, has been thought of," said the girl, smiling; "but I have little choice in the matter, and, happily, as little preference for one as the other of these occupations. And now I must take my leave, for I promised to be back by two o'clock."

"Well, there's Joe will see you home with pleasure, and I 'm sure you have plenty to say to each other about long ago; not but I hope you 'll agree better than you did then. You were the torment of my life, the way you used to fight."

"I couldn't think of trespa.s.sing on Mr. Joseph's time; I should be quite ashamed of imposing such trouble on him. So good-bye, G.o.dmamma; good-bye, Mr. Joseph," said she, hurriedly throwing her shawl around her.

"If you will allow me to accompany you," said Joseph, scarcely knowing whether she rejected or accepted his escort.

"To be sure she will, and you have both more sense than to fall out now; and mind, Joseph, you 're to be here at four, for I asked Mrs. Cronan to dinner."

"Oh, that reminds me of something," said Joe, hurriedly; and he leaned over his mother's chair, and whispered to her, "Mr. Martin has invited me to dine with him to-day; here is his note, which came to me in rather a strange fashion."

"To dine at the Nest! May I never! But I scarcely can believe my eyes,"

said Mrs. Nelligan, in ecstasy. "And the honor, and the pleasure, too; well, well, you 're the lucky boy."

"What shall I do, mother; is n't there something between my father and him?"

"What will you do but go; what else would you do, I 'd like to know?

What will they say at the Post when they hear it?"

"But I want you to hear how this occurred."

"Well, well; I don't care,--go you must, Joe. But there 's poor Catty walking away all alone; just overtake her, and say that a sudden invitation from the Martins--mention it as if you were up there every day--"

But young Nelligan did not wait for the conclusion of this artful counsel, but hurrying after Catty Henderson, overtook her as she had gained the beach.

"I have no need of an escort, Mr. Joseph," said she, good-humoredly. "I know every turn of the way here."

"But you'll not refuse my companionship?" said he. "We have scarcely spoken to each other yet." And as he spoke he drew his arm within her own, and they walked along in silence.

"My mother thinks we did nothing but quarrel long ago," said he, after a pause; "but if my memory serves me truly, it was upon this very pathway we once swore to each other vows of a very different kind. Do you recollect anything of that, Miss Henderson?"

"I do, Mr. Joseph," said she, with a sly half-glance as she uttered the last word.

"Then why 'Mr. Joseph'?" said he, half reproachfully.

"Why 'Miss Henderson'?" said she, with a malicious smile at the other's confusion; for somehow Joseph's manner was far less easy than her own.

"I scarcely know why," replied he, after a short silence, "except that you seem so changed; and I myself, too, am probably in your eyes as much altered--from what we both were, that--that--"

"That, in short, it would be impossible to link the past with the present," said she, quickly; "and you were quite right. I 'm convinced the effort is always a failure, and prejudices in a hundred ways the good qualities of those who attempt it. Let us, therefore, begin our acquaintance here; learn to know each other as we are,--that is, if we are to know each other at all."

"Why do you say that?" asked he, eagerly.

"For many reasons. We may not meet often; perhaps not at all; perhaps under circ.u.mstances where to renew intimacy might be difficult.

a.s.suredly, although the path here might once have sufficed us, our roads in life lie widely apart now, and the less we travel together the more we shall each go towards his own goal, and--and the less regret we shall feel at parting; and so now good-bye."

"You wish it?" said he, reproachfully. "You desire this?"

"What matters it whether I wish it or not? I know it must be. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, then,--good-bye," said he, affecting as much indifference as he could; and then, slightly raising his hat, he turned away on the road homeward.

Joseph Nelligan's reflections were not of the pleasantest as he sauntered slowly back. He was not exactly satisfied with himself; he felt, he could not just say how, that the young girl had had the mastery over him; she was more calm or self-possessed; she had more tact, or she knew more of life; had more of self-control, or breeding, or some other quality, whatever it might be, than he had. At all events, he was ill at ease and discontented. Then he doubted whether he ought to have taken her at her word when she talked of parting. It might, possibly, have been meant by her to evoke some show of resistance on his part; that same inequality of station she seemed to hint at might, perhaps, demand from him a greater deference. In fact, whichever way he turned the matter over, he saw little cause for self-gratulation; nor did he discover that it mended matters when he tried to accuse her of French frivolity, and such other traits as he fancied of foreign origin.

In this not over-pleasant mood was it that he re-entered the cottage, where his mother was busy in preparing a very formidable cravat for the approaching dinner-party.

"Ah, Joe!" said she, anxiously, "if you were to dress now, and then stay quiet, you 'd be quite fresh when the time came; for, remember, it's not like your father you are, that has the world about him, and can converse about everything that comes uppermost; but with all your learning, you know, you always feel somehow--"

"Stupid, mother?"

"Not stupid, my dear, but depressed,--out of spirits in society; so that my advice to you is, now, dress yourself in good time, take a small gla.s.s of ginger-cordial, and throw your eye over the second chapter of 'Social Hints,' with an account of conversation before and at dinner, and some excellent advice about'compliments, meet for every season of the year.'"

"Do you think such preparations quite necessary, mother?" asked Joe, slyly; for he rather relished the simplicity of her counsels.

"To be sure, I do; for yours is no common difficulty, Joe. If you talk of country matters, you 'll get into Kyle's Wood and the Chancery suit; if you touch politics or religion, it will be worse again. The Martins, I hear, never play cards, so you can't allude to them; and they 'll be too grand to know anything about poor Miss Cuddy going off with the sergeant of police, or what Con Kelly did with his aunt's furniture."

"So that really the topics open to me are marvellously few."