The Vicar of Wrexhill Part 22

"I--I believe so,--I don't know," replied f.a.n.n.y, stammering and colouring painfully.

"Not know, f.a.n.n.y Mowbray!" exclaimed Rosalind;--"not know your father's opinion of Mr. Wallace! That is very singular indeed."

"I mean," said f.a.n.n.y, struggling to recover her composure, "that I never heard papa's opinion of him as compared with--with any one else."

"I do not believe he would have lost by the comparison," said Rosalind, rising, and walking out of the window.

"Is not that prodigiously rich young lady somewhat of the tiger breed?"

said young Cartwright in a whisper to f.a.n.n.y.

"Miss Torrington is not at all a person of serious notions," replied f.a.n.n.y; "and till one is subdued by religion, one is often very quarrelsome."

"I am sure, serious or not, you would never quarrel with any one,"

whispered Jacob.

"Indeed I should be sorry and ashamed to do so now," she replied. "Your father ought to cure us all of such unchristian faults as that."

"I wish I was like my father!" said Jacob very sentimentally.

"Oh! how glad I am to hear you say that!" said f.a.n.n.y, clasping her hands together. "I am sure it would make him so happy!"

"I can't say I was thinking of making him happy, Miss f.a.n.n.y: I only meant, that I wished I was like any body that you admire and approve so much."

"A poor silly motive for wishing to be like such a father!" replied f.a.n.n.y, blushing; and leaving her distant place, she established herself at the table on which the tea equipage had just been placed, and busied herself with the tea-cups.

This remove brought her very nearly opposite Mr. Cartwright and the two ladies who were seated beside him, and from this moment the conversation proceeded without any "asides" whatever.

"At what age, Mr. Cartwright," said Mrs. Simpson, "do you think one should begin to instil the doctrine of regeneration into a little girl?"

"Not later than ten, my dear lady. A very quick and forward child might perhaps be led to comprehend it earlier. Eight and three-quarters I have known in a state of the most perfect awakening; but this I hold to be rare."

"What a spectacle!" exclaimed Miss Richards in a sort of rapture. "A child of eight and three-quarters! Did it speak its thoughts, Mr.

Cartwright?"

"The case I allude to, my dear young lady, was published. I will bring you the pamphlet. Nothing can be more edifying than the out-breakings of the Spirit through the organs of that chosen little vessel."

"I hope, Mr. Cartwright, that _I_ shall have the benefit of this dear pamphlet also. Do not forget that I have a little girl exactly eight years three-quarters and six weeks.--I beg your pardon, my dear Louisa, but this must be so much more interesting to me than it can be to you as yet, my dear, that I trust Mr. Cartwright will give me the precedence in point of time. Besides, you know, that as the princ.i.p.al person in the village, I am a little spoiled in such matters. I confess to you, I should feel hurt if I had to wait for this till you had studied it. You have no child, you know."

"Oh! without doubt, Mrs. Simpson, you ought to have it first," replied Miss Richards. "I am certainly not likely as yet to have any one's soul to be anxious about but my own.--Is this blessed child alive, Mr.

Cartwright?"

"In heaven, Miss Louisa,--not on earth. It is the account of its last moments that have been so admirably drawn up by the Reverend Josiah Martin. This gentleman is a particular friend of mine, and I am much interested in the sale of the little work. I will have the pleasure, my dear ladies, of bringing a dozen copies to each of you; and you will give me a very pleasing proof of the pious feeling I so deeply rejoice to see, if you will dispose of them at one shilling each among your friends."

"I am sure I will try all I can!" said Miss Richards.

"My influence could not be better employed, I am certain, than in forwarding your wishes in all things," added Mrs. Simpson.

Young Jacob, either in the hope of amus.e.m.e.nt, or of more certainly securing his five shillings, had followed the indignant Rosalind out of the window, and found her refreshing herself by arranging the vagrant tendrils of a beautiful creeping plant outside it.

"I am afraid, Miss Rosalind Torrington," said he, "that you would not say Amen! if I did say, May the saints have you in their holy keeping! I do believe in my heart that you would rather find yourself in the keeping of sinners."

"The meaning of words often depends upon the character of those who utter them," replied Rosalind. "There is such a thing as slang, Mr.

Jacob; and there is such a thing as cant."

"Did you ever mention that to my papa, Miss Rosalind?" inquired Jacob in a voice of great simplicity.

Rosalind looked at him as if she wished to discover what he was at,--whether his object were to quiz her, his father, or both. But considering his very boyish appearance and manner, there was more difficulty in achieving this than might have been expected. Sometimes she thought him almost a fool; at others, quite a wag. At one moment she was ready to believe him more than commonly simple-minded; and at another felt persuaded that he was an accomplished hypocrite.

It is probable that the youth perceived her purpose, and felt more gratification in defeating it than he could have done from any love-making of which she were the object. His countenance, which was certainly intended by nature to express little besides frolic and fun, was now puckered up into a look of solemnity that might have befitted one of the Newman-street congregation when awaiting an address in the unknown tongue.

"I am sure," he said, "that my papa would like to hear you talk about all those things very much, Miss Torrington. I do not think that he would exactly agree with you in every word you might say: but that never seems to vex him: if the talk does but go about heaven and h.e.l.l, and saints and sinners, and reprobation and regeneration, and the old man and the new birth, that is all papa cares for. I think he likes to be contradicted a little; for that, you know, makes more talk again."

"Is that the principle upon which you proceed with him yourself, Mr.

Jacob? Do you always make a point of contradicting every thing he says?"

"Pretty generally, Miss Torrington, when there is n.o.body by, and when I make it all pa.s.s for joke. But there _is_ a law that even Miss Henrietta has been taught to obey; and that is, never to contradict him in company. Perhaps you have found that out, Miss Rosalind?"

"Perhaps I have, Mr. Jacob."

"Will you not come in to tea, Miss Torrington?" said Henrietta, appearing at the window, with the volume in her hand which had seemed to occupy her whole attention from the time she had re-entered the drawing-room with Rosalind.

"I wish, sister," said Jacob, affecting to look extremely cross, "that you would not pop out so, to interrupt one's conversation! You might have a fellow feeling, I think, for a young lady, when she walks out of a window, and a young gentleman walks after her!"

Rosalind gave him a look from one side, and Henrietta from the other.

"Mercy on me!" he exclaimed, putting up his hands as if to guard the two sides of his face. "Four black eyes at me at once!--and so very black in every sense of the word!"

The young ladies walked together into the room, and Jacob followed, seeking the eye of his father, and receiving thence, as he expected, a glance of encouragement and applause.

When the tea was removed, Mr. Cartwright went to the piano-forte, and run his fingers with an appearance of some skill over the keys.

"I hope, my dear Miss f.a.n.n.y, that you intend we should have a little music this evening?"

"If Mrs. Simpson, Miss Richards, and Miss Torrington will sing," said f.a.n.n.y, "I shall be very happy to accompany them."

"What music have you got, my dear young lady?" said the vicar.

Miss Torrington had a large collection of songs very commodiously stowed beneath the instrument; and Helen and herself were nearly as amply provided with piano-forte music of all kinds: but though this was the first time Mr. Cartwright had ever approached the instrument, or asked for music, f.a.n.n.y had a sort of instinctive consciousness that the collection would be found defective in his eyes.

"We have several of Handel's oratorios," she replied; "and I think Helen has got the 'Creation.'"

"Very fine music both," replied Mr. Cartwright; "but in the social meetings of friends, where many perhaps may be able to raise a timid note toward heaven, though incapable of performing the difficult compositions of these great masters, I conceive that a simpler style is preferable. If you will permit me," he continued, drawing a small volume of ma.n.u.script music from his pocket, "I will point out to you some very beautiful, and, indeed, popular melodies, which have heretofore been sadly disgraced by the words applied to them. In this little book many of my female friends have, at my request, written words fit for a Christian to sing, to notes that the sweet voice of youth and beauty may love to breathe. Miss Torrington, I have heard that you are considered to be a very superior vocalist:--will you use the power that G.o.d has given, to hymn his praise?"

There was too much genuine piety in Rosalind's heart to refuse a challenge so worded, without a better reason for doing it than personal dislike to Mr. Cartwright; nevertheless, it was not without putting some constraint upon herself that she replied,

"I very often sing sacred music, sir, and am ready to do so now, if you wish it."

"A thousand thanks," said he, "for this amiable compliance! I hail it as the harbinger of harmony that shall rise from all our hearts in sweet accord to heaven."