The Star-Gazers Part 30

"We must submit to the insult, I suppose. I cannot resent it for Moray's sake. They are his guests, and must be treated with respect."

In due time Sir John and Glynne, with Rolph and the major, arrived, and were heartily welcomed by Moray, who seemed to have thrown off his quiet thoughtfulness of manner, and to be striving to set the visitors at their ease. So warm and hearty, too, were Sir John and the major, that Lucy brightened; and had Rolph taken another tone, and Mrs Alleyne been satisfied with doing all that lay in her power to make her visitors welcome, leaving the rest, all would have gone well. But, in face of the stern, calm dignity of mien which she displayed, it was impossible for Sir John to adopt his easy-going sociability. In fact, between them, Mrs Alleyne and Rolph spoiled the dinner.

It was not by any means the greatest mistake that Mrs Alleyne had ever made in her life, but it was a serious one all the same, to attempt a regular society dinner in the face of so many difficulties. Poor woman: she felt that it was her duty to show Sir John that she was a lady, and understood the social amenities of life.

The consequence was that, having attempted too much, all went wrong: Eliza got into the most horrible tangles, and half-a-dozen times over, Sir John wished they had had a good Southdown leg of mutton, vegetables, and a pudding, and nothing else.

But he did not have his wish--for there was soup that was not good; soles that had become torn and tattered in the extraction from the frying-pan; veal cutlets, whose golden egging and crumbing had been in vain, for this coating had dissolved apparently into the sauce. The other _entree_ emitted an odour which made the major hungry, being a curried chicken; but, alas! the rice was in the condition known by schoolboys as "mosh-posh." Then came a sirloin of beef and a pair of boiled fowls, with an intervening tongue and white sauce--at least the sauce should have been white, and the chickens should have been young-- while what kind of conscience the butcher possessed who defrauded Mrs Alleyne by sending her in that sirloin of beef, with the announcement that it was prime, it is impossible to say.

The table looked bright and pretty with its fine white cloth, bright flowers and fruit, but the dinner itself was a series of miserable failures, through all of which Mrs Alleyne sat, stern, and with a fixed smile upon her countenance. Moray and Glynne were serenely unconscious, eating what was before them, but with their thoughts and conversation far away amongst the stars. Sir John and the major, with the most chivalrous courtesy, ignored everything, and kept up the heartiest of conversation; while Rolph, who was in a furious temper at having been obliged to come, fixed his gla.s.s in his eye and stolidly stared when he did not sneer.

It was poor Lucy upon whom the burden of the dinner cares fell, and she suffered a martyrdom. Oldroyd saw that she was troubled, but did not fully realise the cause, while the poor girl shivered and shrank, and turned now hot, now cold, as she read Rolph's contempt for the miserable fare.

"Yes," said the Major to himself, "it's a mistake. She meant well, poor woman, but if she had given us a well-cooked steak how much better it would have been."

Mrs Alleyne, behind her mask of smiles, also noted how Rolph's eye-gla.s.s was directed at the various dishes, and how his plate went away, time after time, with the viands scarcely tasted. She hated him with a bitter hatred, and felt full of rejoicing to see his annoyance with Glynne, whose calm, handsome face lit up and grew animated when Alleyne spoke to her, answering questions, questioning her in return, and telling her of his work during the past few days.

The meal went on very slowly, and such success as attended it was due to Sir John and the major, the former devoting himself to his hostess, while the latter relieved poor little Lucy's breast of some of its burden of trouble.

"Ah," he said once, out of sheer kindness, just after Rolph had laughed silently at a grievous mistake made by Eliza, who, in a violent perspiration with work and excitement, had dropped a dish in the second course, breaking it, and spreading a too tremulous cabinet pudding and its sauce upon the well--worn carpet. "Ah, a capital dinner, Miss Alleyne, only wanted one dish to have made it complete."

"How can you be so unkind, Major Day!" said Lucy, in a low, choking voice; "the poor girl is so unused to company, and she could not help it."

Major Day looked petrified. He had advanced his remark like a squadron to cover the rout of the cabinet pudding, and he was astounded by Lucy's flank movement, as she took his remark to refer to the maid.

"My dear child," he stammered, "you mistake me."

Poor Lucy could not contain herself. The vexations of the whole dinner which had been gathering within her now burst forth; and though she spoke to him in an undertone, her face was crimson, and it was all she could do to keep from bursting into a flood of tears.

"It is so unkind of you," continued Lucy; "we are not used to having company. Moray did not think how difficult it would be for us to make proper preparations, and it is not our fault that everything is so bad."

"My dear child!" whispered the major again.

"You need not have added to my misery by calling it a capital dinner, and alluding to the dish."

Fortunately Sir John was chatting loudly to Mrs Alleyne, Oldroyd was in a warm argument with Rolph on the subject of training, and Alleyne was holding Glynne's attention by describing to her the theory that the stars were in all probability suns with planets revolving round them, as we do about our own giver of warmth and light. Hence, then, the major's little interlude with Lucy was unnoticed, and Eliza was able to remove the evidences of the disaster with a dustpan and brush.

"My dear Miss Alleyne, give me credit for being an officer and a gentleman," said the major, quietly; "the dish I alluded to was one of some choice fungi, such as we discover for ourselves in the woods and fields. I meant nothing else--believe me."

Lucy darted a grateful look in his eyes, and followed it up with a smile, which sent a peculiar little sting into Oldroyd's breast.

"For," the latter argued with himself, "elderly gentlemen do sometimes manage to exercise a great deal of influence over the susceptible hearts of maidens, and Major Day is a smart, attractive, old man."

His attention was, however, taken up directly by Rolph, who, in a half-haughty, condescending tone asked him if he had studied training from its medical and surgical side, nettling him by his manner, and putting him upon his mettle to demolish his adversary in argument.

"Thank you, major," whispered Lucy. "I might have known--I ought to have known better."

And then, with the ice broken between herself and her old botanical tutor and friend, she seemed to jump with girlish eagerness at the opportunity for lightening her burdened heart.

"Everything has gone so dreadfully," she whispered. "I have been sitting upon thorns ever since you all came. It has been heartbreaking, and I shall be so glad when it is all over, and you are gone."

"Tut--tut! you inhospitable little creature," said the major. "For shame. I shall not. Why, surely my little pupil does not think we came over here for the sake of the dinner. Fie!--fie!--fie! Brother John, there, enjoys a crust of bread and cheese and a gla.s.s of ale better than anything; while I, an old campaigner, used, when I was on service, to think myself very lucky if I got a biscuit and a slice of melon, or a handful of dates, for a meal."

"But Sir John said you were so particular, and that was why he sent the fruit."

"My brother John is a gentleman," said the major, smiling. "But there, there, let me see my little pupil smiling, and at her ease again. Why, we've come over this evening to feast upon stars and planets, when the proper time comes. I say, look at Glynne, how bright and eager she looks. She is not troubling herself about the dinner; nor your brother neither."

"Moray?" replied Lucy. "Oh, no; nothing troubles him. Poor fellow! If you gave him only some bran he would eat it and never say a word. It's throwing nice things away to make them for him."

At last the dessert plates had been placed upon the table, and the fruit handed round by Eliza, who, in spite of several nods and frowns from Mrs Alleyne, insisted upon staying to the very last, by way of salving her conscience for the pudding lapse. Then she finally departed to look after the coffee; the ladies rose and left the room, and the gentlemen drew closer together to discuss their wine.

Some cups of capital coffee were brought in, its quality being due to the fact that Lucy had slipped into the kitchen to make it herself; and after these had been enjoyed, Sir John drew attention to the object of their visit. Rolph yawned, and made up his mind to remain behind, to go into the garden and have a cigar, and Alleyne led the way into the drawing-room, Glynne rising directly to come and meet them, all eagerness to enjoy the promised inspection of the observatory.

Volume 1, Chapter XV.

GLYNNE LOOKS AT THE MOON, THE PROFESSOR AT HIS HEART.

The secret of the poverty of Mrs Alleyne's home was read by the major and Sir John, as they followed their host and Glynne along a bare pa.s.sage and through two green-baized doors, into the great dome-covered chambers where Alleyne pursued his studies, for on all sides were arranged astronomical instruments of the newest invention and costliest kind. The outlay had been slow--a hundred now and a hundred then; but the result had been thousands of pounds spent upon the various pieces of intricate mechanism, and their mounting upon solid iron pillars, resting on ma.s.sive piers of cement or stone.

Glynne uttered a faint cry of surprise and delight as she saw the long tubes with their wheels and pivots arranged so that the reclining observer could turn his gla.s.s in any direction; gazed in the great trough that seemed to have a bottom covered with looking-gla.s.s, but which was half full of quicksilver; noted that there were sliding shutters in the roof, and various pieces of mechanism, whose uses she longed to have explained.

It was all old to Lucy, who felt a new pleasure, though, in her friend's eagerness, while Mrs Alleyne, who had suffered torments all the evening in mortified pride, felt, as she saw the looks of wonder of the guests, and their appreciation of her son's magnificent observatory, that she was now reaping her reward.

"Bless my soul!" cried Sir John, "I am astounded. I did not think there was such a place outside Greenwich."

Mrs Alleyne bowed and smiled; and then, as Sir John began eagerly inspecting the various objects and arrangements around, and the major chatted to Lucy, she gave a curious look at her son, who was bending over Glynne, explaining to her the use of the quicksilver trough, and arranging a gla.s.s afterwards, so that she might see how it was brought to bear upon a reflected star.

As Mrs Alleyne glanced round she saw that Oldroyd was also watching her son and Glynne, and her eyes directly after met those of the young doctor, whose thoughts she tried to read--perhaps with success.

For the next half-hour, Glynne was being initiated in the mysteries of the transit instrument, and had the pleasure of seeing star after star cross the zenith, after which, the moon having risen well above the refracting and magnifying mists of earth, the largest reflector was brought to bear upon its surface.

e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns of delight kept escaping from Glynne's lips as she gazed at the bright tops of the various volcanoes, searched the dark shadows and craters, and literally revelled in the glories of the brightly embossed silver crescent. She had a hundred questions to ask, with all the eager curiosity and animation of a child, and with the advantage of having one as patient as he was learned, ready to respond upon the instant.

"I feel so terribly selfish," cried Glynne, at last. "Oh, papa, you must come and look. Uncle, it is wonderful."

"We'll have a look another time," said Sir John, good-humouredly; "only don't wear out Mr Alleyne's patience."

"Oh, I hope he will not think me tiresome," cried Glynne, whose eye was directed to the gla.s.s again on the instant, "but it is so wonderful. I could watch the moon all night. Now, Mr Alleyne, just a little way from the left edge, low down, there is a brilliant ring of light--no, not quite a ring; it is as if a portion of it had been torn away, and--Oh!

Robert! how you startled me."

The spell was broken, for Rolph had entered the observatory, having finished his cigar. He had been standing at the door for a few moments, watching the scene before him, and a frown came over his forehead as he heard the eagerness of his betrothed's words, and saw the impressive way in which Alleyne was bending towards her, and answering her questions.

Directly after, the young officer crossed the observatory, laid his hand almost rudely upon Alleyne's shoulder, and nodded to him as if to say, "Stand on one side."

Alleyne started, coloured, and then drew back, with the major watching him intently, while Rolph laid his hand playfully upon Glynne's forehead, and slipped it before her eyes.

"Now then, have you found the focus. What is it? A penny a peep?

Here, Mr Alleyne, do you take the money?"

A dead silence fell upon the group till the major hastened to break it by saying a few words of praise of the place to Mrs Alleyne.