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"The neighbourhood dunna come to me. Folk go over to the kirk now: that has come into fashion; and I'm going down. 'Twas different in past times. A man would give a ten-pun note then to have things done neatly and quietly. But there's fresh notions and fresh havers; and, for all the good they have done me, I might as well be out of the world. Is this Miss Cecil?"
The last question was put abruptly, the man turning himself full upon Charlotte Pain, and scanning her face. George G.o.dolphin was surprised out of an answer: had he taken a moment for reflection, he might have deemed the question an impertinence, and pa.s.sed it by.
"Miss Cecilia is not in Scotland."
"I thought it might be her," said the man; "for Miss Cecil's looks are a country's talk, and I have heard much of them. I see now; there's nought of the G.o.dolphin _there_. But it's a bonny face, young lady: and I dare say there's those that are finding it so."
He shambled on, with a gesture of the hand by way of salutation.
Charlotte Pain did not dislike the implied compliment. "How can this man marry people?" she exclaimed. "He is no priest."
"He can, and he does marry them; and is not interfered with, or forbidden," said George G.o.dolphin. "At least, he did do so. By his own account, his patronage seems to be on the decline."
"Did he marry them openly?"
"Well--no; I conclude not. If people found it convenient to marry openly, they would not go to him. And why they should go to him at all, puzzles me, and always has: for, the sort of marriage that he performs can be performed by any one wearing a coat, in Scotland, or by the couple themselves. But he has acquired a name, 'Minister Bray;' and a great deal lies in a name for ladies' ears."
"Ladies!" cried Charlotte scornfully. "Only the peasants went to him, I am sure."
"Others have gone as well as peasants. Bray boasts yet of a fifty-pound note, once put into his hand for p.r.o.nouncing the benediction. It is a ceremony that we are given to be lavish upon," added George, laughing.
"I have heard of money being grudged for a funeral, but I never did for a wedding."
"Were I compelled to be a resident of this place, I should get married myself, out of sheer ennui, or do something else as desperate," she exclaimed.
"You find it dull?"
"It has been more tolerable since you came," she frankly avowed.
George raised his hat, and his blue eyes shot a glance into hers. "Thank you, Charlotte."
"Why were you so long in coming? Do you know what I had done? I had written a letter to desire Mrs. Verrall to recall me. Another week of it would have turned me melancholy. Your advent was better than n.o.body's."
"Thank you again, mademoiselle. When I promise----"
"Promise," she warmly interrupted. "I have learnt what your promises are worth. Oh, but, George, tell me--What was it that you and Lady G.o.dolphin were saying yesterday? It was about Ethel Grame. I only caught a word here and there."
"Thomas wishes Lady G.o.dolphin would invite Ethel here for the remainder of their stay. He thinks Ethel would be all the better for a change, after being mured up in that fever-tainted house. But, don't talk of it.
It was only a little private negotiation that Thomas was endeavouring to carry out upon his own account. He wrote to me, and he wrote to my lady.
Ethel knows nothing of it."
"And what does Lady G.o.dolphin say?"
George drew in his lips. "She says No. As I expected. And I believe she is for once sorry to say it, for pretty Ethel is a favourite of hers.
But she retains her dread of the fever. Her argument is, that, although Ethel has escaped it in her own person, she might possibly bring it here in her boxes."
"Stuff!" cried Charlotte Pain. "Sarah Anne might do so; but I do not see how Ethel could. I wonder Thomas does not marry, and have done with it!
He is old enough."
"And Ethel young enough. It will not be delayed long now. The vexatious question, concerning residence, must be settled in some way."
"What residence? What is vexatious about it?" quickly asked Charlotte, curiously.
"There is some vexation about it, in some way or other," returned George with indifference, not choosing to speak more openly. "It is not my affair; it lies between Thomas and Sir George. When Thomas comes here next week----"
"Is Thomas coming next week?" she interrupted.
"That is the present plan. And I return."
She threw her flashing eyes at him. They said--well, they said a good deal: perhaps Mr. George could read it. "You had better get another letter of recall written, Charlotte," he resumed in a tone which might be taken for jest or earnest, "and give me the honour of your escort."
"How you talk!" returned she peevishly. "As if Lady G.o.dolphin would allow me to go all that way under _your_ escort! As if I would go myself!"
"You might have a less safe one, Charlotte mia," cried Mr. George somewhat saucily. "No lion should come near you, to eat you up."
"George," resumed Charlotte, after a pause, "I wish you would tell me whether Mrs. Verrall---- Good Heavens! what's that?"
Sounds of distress were sounding in their ears. They turned hastily.
Maria Hastings, her camp-stool overturned, her sketching materials scattered on the ground, was flying towards them, calling upon George G.o.dolphin to save her. There was no mistaking that she was in a state of intense terror.
Charlotte Pain wondered if she had gone mad. She could see nothing to alarm her. George G.o.dolphin cast his rapid glance to the spot where she had sat, and could see nothing, either. He hastened to meet her, and caught her in his arms, into which she literally threw herself.
Entwined round her left wrist was a small snake, or reptile of the species, more than a foot long. It looked like an eel, writhing there.
Maria had never come into personal contact with anything of the sort: but she remembered what had been said of the deadly bite of a serpent; and terror completely overmastered her.
He seized it and flung it from her; he laid her poor terrified face upon his breast, that she might there sob out her fear; he cast a greedy glance at her wrist, where the thing had been: and his own face had turned white with emotion.
"My darling, there is no injury," he soothingly whispered. "Be calm! be calm!" And, utterly regardless of the presence of Charlotte Pain, he laid his cheek against hers, as if to rea.s.sure her, and kept it there.
Less regardless, possibly, had he seen Charlotte Pain's countenance. It was dark as night. The scales were rudely torn from her eyes: and she saw, in that moment, how fallacious had been her own hopes touching George G.o.dolphin.
CHAPTER IX.
MR. SANDY'S "TRADE."
"What ever is the matter?"
The interruption came from Lady G.o.dolphin. Charlotte Pain had perceived her approach, but had ungraciously refrained from intimating it to her companions. My lady, a coquettish white bonnet shading her delicate face, and her little person enveloped in a purple velvet mantle trimmed with ermine, was on her way to pay a visit to her ex-maid, Selina. She surveyed the group with intense astonishment. Maria Hastings, white, sobbing, clinging to George G.o.dolphin in unmistakable terror; Mr. George soothing her in rather a marked manner; and Charlotte Pain, erect, haughty, her arms folded, her head drawn up, giving no a.s.sistance, her countenance about as pleasant as a demon's my lady had once the pleasure of seeing at the play. She called out the above words before she was well up with them.
George G.o.dolphin did not release Maria; he simply lifted his head. "She has been very much terrified, Lady G.o.dolphin; but no harm is done. A reptile of the snake species fastened itself on her wrist. I have flung it off."
He glanced towards the spot where stood Lady G.o.dolphin, as much as to imply that he had flung the offender _there_. My lady shrieked, caught up her petticoats, we won't say how high, and leaped away nimbly.
"I never heard of such a thing!" she exclaimed. "A snake! What should bring snakes about, here?"
"Say a serpent!" broke from the pale lips of Charlotte Pain.