The Martins Of Cro' Martin Volume I Part 35

"It must be Miss Henderson," said Mary, smiling, "for I don't sing."

"Not a ballad?--not even one of the Melodies?"

"Not even one of the Melodies," said she, sorrowfully.

"Shame upon me for that 'even,'" said Repton; "but you see what comes of surviving one's generation. I lived in an age when the 'Last Rose of Summer' and the 'Harp that Once' were cla.s.sical as Homer's 'Hymns,' but I have now fallen upon times when English music is estimated in the same category with English cookery, and both deemed very little above barbarous. To be sure," added he, "it does seem very like a poetical justice for the slavish adherence of _our_ education to Greek and Roman literature, that our ladies should only sing to us in the languages of Italy or Germany."

"I hope you would not imply that we are as little versed in these as great scholars are in the others?" said Kate Henderson, slyly.

"Sharply said, miss, and truthfully insinuated too! Not to mention that there is courage in such a speech before Mr. Nelligan, here."

"Yes--very true--a just remark!" said Joseph, who only overheard a reference to himself without understanding to what it alluded. And now a very joyous burst of laughter from the others startled him, while it covered him with confusion.

"We must make them sing, Nelligan," said Repton, gayly. "They'll vanquish us in these tilting-matches of word-fence.--Now, Miss Henderson, something very plaintive and very sentimental, to suit the tenderness of a feeling heart."

"I'll sing for you with pleasure," said Kate. "Will this suit you?" And with a short prelude she sang one of those brilliant little s.n.a.t.c.hes of Venetian melody which seem like the outburst of a sudden inspiration,--wild, joyous, floating as they are,--wherein such is the expression that sounds usurp the place of language, and the mind is carried away by a dreamy fascination impossible to resist.

"How often have I heard that on the Lido!" said Mas-singbred, entering the room hastily; "and what a glorious thing it is!"

"Then you know this?" said Kate, running her fingers over the notes, and warbling out another of the popular airs of the same cla.s.s.

"The last time I heard that," said Jack, musingly, "was one night when returning home from a late party, along the Grand Ca.n.a.l at Venice. There is a single word at the end of each verse which should be uttered by a second voice. Just as I pa.s.sed beneath a brilliantly lighted salon, the sounds of this melody came floating forth, and as the stanza finished, I supplied the 'refrain.'"

"You?" cried Kate, eagerly.

"Yes; but why do you ask?"

"Do you remember the exact spot?" said she, not heeding his question.

"As well as though I were there only yesterday."

"Shall I tell you where it was?" He waited, and she went on: "It was under the balcony of the Mocenigo Palace."

"Why, this is witchcraft," cried Jack; "you are perfectly correct."

"The bouquet that was thrown to you from the window fell into the water."

"But I regained it. I have it still," cried he, more eagerly; "and yours was the hand that threw it?"

She nodded a.s.sent.

"How strange, is it not, that we should meet here?" He paused for a minute or two, and then said, "It was the d.u.c.h.esse de Courcelles lived there at the time?"

"Yes, we pa.s.sed the winter in that palace."

"Miss Henderson was the companion of the young Princess," said Lady Dorothea, who had just joined the group, and experienced no slight shock at observing the tone of easy familiarity in which the conversation was conducted. But Ma.s.singbred seemed wonderfully little moved by the intelligence, for, drawing his chair closer to Kate's, he led her to talk of Venice and its life, till, imperceptibly as it were, the discourse glided into Italian. What a dangerous freemasonry is the use of a foreign language, lifting the speakers out of the ordinary topics, and leading them away to distant scenes and impressions, which, const.i.tuting a little world apart, give a degree of confidential feeling to intercourse. Ma.s.singbred would willingly have lent himself to the full enjoyment of this illusion; but Kate, with quicker tact, saw all the difficulties and embarra.s.sment it would occasion, and under pretext of searching for some music, escaped at once from the spot.

"How I envy you, dear girl!" said Mary, following her, and pa.s.sing her arm affectionately around her. "What a happiness must it be to possess such gifts as yours, which, even in their careless exercise, are so graceful. Tell me frankly, is it too late for me to try--"

"You overrate _me_ as much as you disparage yourself," said Kate, mildly; "but if you really will accept me, I will teach you the little that I know, but, in return, will you make _me_ your friend?"

Mary pressed the other's hand warmly within her own.

"Here are some vows of everlasting friendship going forward, I 'll be sworn," said old Repton, stepping in between them; "and you ought to have a legal opinion as to the clauses,--eh, young ladies, am I not right?"

"When was Mr. Repton wrong?" said Mary, laughing.

"When he waited till his present age to fall in love!" said he, gayly.

"But, seriously, what have you done with our young student? Of all the woe-begone faces I ever beheld, his was the very saddest, as he moved into the large drawing-room awhile ago. Which of you is to blame for this?"

"Not guilty, upon my honor," said Mary, with mock solemnity.

"I'm half afraid that our showy friend has eclipsed him in _your_ eyes, as I own to you he has in _mine_, clever fellow that he is."

"Are you not charmed with yourself that you did not shoot him this morning?" said Mary, laughing.

"I am sincerely gratified that he has not shot me, which, taking his pistol performance on the same level with his other acquirements, was not so very improbable!"

"There's your uncle stealing away to bed," said Repton, "and fancying that n.o.body remarks him. Shall I be cruel enough to mar the project?

Martin--Martin--come here for a moment; we want your opinion on a knotty point."

"I know what it is," said Martin, smiling; "the question under discussion is,'Whether you or Mr. Ma.s.singbred were the more successful to-day?'"

"I think Mr. Ma.s.singbred may claim the prize," said Mary Martin, with a sly whisper; "he made Lady Dorothea cry."

"Ay," said Repton, "but _I_ made young Nelligan laugh!"

And now the party broke up, Ma.s.singbred lingering a little behind to say something to Miss Henderson, and then betaking himself to his chamber, well satisfied with his day, and the change it had wrought in his fortunes. Perhaps a few pa.s.sages from a letter that he, on that same night, penned to one of his friends in Dublin, will not be ill-timed as an exponent of his sentiments. The letter was written, directing certain articles of dress to be forwarded to him at once, by coach, and contained these paragraphs:--

"You now know how I came here: the next thing is to tell you of the place itself. The house is large and admirably _montee_--abundance of servants, well drilled, and orderly. The master a nonent.i.ty, apparently; easy-tempered and good-humored; liking the quiet monotony of his humdrum life, and only asking that it may not be interfered with. His wife, a fine lady of the school of five-and-forty years ago,--a nervous terrorist about mob encroachments and the democratic tendencies of the times,--insufferably tiresome on genealogies and 'connections,' and what many would call downright vulgar in the amount of her pretension.

Grat.i.tude--for I have the honor of being a favorite already--seals my lips against any further or harsher criticism. As for the niece, she is decidedly handsome; a great deal of style about her too; with a degree of--shall I call it daring? for it is more like courage than any other quality--that tells you she is the uncontrolled ruler over the wild regions and wild people around her. With more of manner, she would be very charming; but perhaps she is better in the unfettered freedom of her own capricious independence: it certainly suits her to perfection.

And now I should have completed my catalogue, if it were not for the governess. Ay, Harry, the governess! And just fancy, under this unimposing t.i.tle, a dark-eyed, haughty-looking girl--I don't think she can be above twenty or twenty-one--with a carriage and port that might suit an Archd.u.c.h.ess of Austria. She has travelled all over Europe--been everywhere--seen everything, and, stranger again, everybody; for she was what they style a companion. By Jove! she must have been a very charming one; that is, if she liked it; for if she did not, Hal!--At all events, here she is; only having arrived the very day before myself; so that we are free to discuss the family, and compare notes together, in the most confidential fashion.

"Of course I need n't tell _you_ Jack Ma.s.singbred does not fall in love,--the very phrase implies it must be beneath one,--but I already see that if such a girl were a Lady Catherine or a Lady Agnes, with a father in the Upper House, and two brothers in the 'Lower,' her dowry anything you like above thirty thousand,--that, in short, even Jack himself might exhibit the weakness of inferior mortals; for she is precisely one of those types that are ever looking upward,--a girl with a high ambition, I 'll be sworn, and formed to make the man, whose fortunes she shared, stand forward in the van and distinguish himself.

"These are our whole _dramatis persono_, if I include an old barrister, with a racy humor and a strong stock of Bar anecdotes; and young Nelligan, the Medal man, whom you quizzed me so much for noticing in Dublin. You were right then, Harry; he _is_ a low fellow, and I was wrong in ever thinking him otherwise. I chanced upon his father's acquaintance rather oddly; and the son has not forgiven it. When we met here, yesterday, he fancied that we were to speak, and was actually rushing forward to shake hands with the most enthusiastic warmth; but with that manner which you have often admired, and once encouraged, when you called me the 'Cool of the day,' I pulled him up dead short, stared, and pa.s.sed on. At dinner, I managed to ignore him so utterly that everybody else fell into the trap, and he dined as a tutor or the chaplain or the agent's son might,--mingling his sighs with the soup, and sipping his claret in all dreariness.

"You will see, even from these hasty lines, that there is enough here to interest and amuse; food for observation, and opportunity for malice.

What can a man want more? The 'joint and the pickles.' They have asked me to stay,--they have even entreated; and so I mean to pa.s.s a week--perhaps two--here. I conclude that will give me enough of it: however, you shall hear frequently of my _res gesto_, and learn all that befalls

"Jack Ma.s.singbred.

"... When you pa.s.s that way, pray see what letters there may be lying for me in my chambers. If any of my father's--he writes in a large splashy hand--and the seal, two maces, saltierwise--forward them here. I am, or I shall soon be, in want of money; and as I have overdrawn my allowance already, I shall be obliged to issue bonds, bearing a certain interest. Can you recommend me to a safe capitalist?--not Fordyce--nor Henniker--nor yet Sloan--with all of whom I have held dealings, mutually disagreeable. It is a sad reflection that the stamp worth five shillings upon a piece of unsullied paper is absolutely valueless when the words 'Jack Ma.s.singbred' are inscribed beneath. Try, and if you can, solve this curious problem.

"At all events, write to me here: supply me freely with news, for I am supposed to be acquainted with all that goes on, socially and politically, and I shall be driven to imagination if you do not store me with fact."