The Vicissitudes of Bessie Fairfax Part 31

"Miss Julia Gardiner!" exclaimed Bessie in a low, astonished voice.

Mrs. Betts, with an indifference that a more cunning young lady than hers would have felt to be carefully prepared, proceeded with her information: "Yes, miss; you met the lady, I think? The gentleman is many years older, but a worthy gentleman. And she is a most sweet lady, which, where there is children to begin with, is much to be considered.

She has no fortune, but there is oceans of money on his side--oceans."

Bessie did not jump to the conclusion that it was therefore a mercenary marriage, as she had done in another case. She forgot, for the moment, her interest in the Forest news, and though she seemed to be contemplating her beautiful dress for the evening laid out upon the bed, the pensive abstraction of her gaze implied profounder thoughts. Mrs.

Betts busied herself with various little matters--sewed on faster the rosette of a white shoe, and the b.u.t.tons on the gloves that were to be worn with that foam of silvery tulle. What Bessie was musing of she could not herself have told; a confused sensation of pain and pity was uppermost at first. Mrs. Betts stood at a distance and with her back to her young mistress, but she commanded her face in the gla.s.s, and saw it overspread slowly by a warm soft blush, and the next moment she was asked, "Do you think she will be happy, Mrs. Betts?"

"We may trust so, miss," said the waiting-woman, still feigning to be fully occupied with her duties to her young lady's pretty things. "Why should she not? She is old enough to know her mind, and will have everything that heart can desire--won't she?"

Bessie did not attempt any answer to this suggestive query. She put the newspaper aside, and stretched herself with a sigh along the couch, folding her hands under her cheek on the pillow. Her eyes grew full of tears, and so she lay, meditating on this new lesson in life, until Mrs.

Betts warned her that it was time to dress for dinner. Miss Fairfax had by this date so far accustomed herself to the usages of young ladies of rank that Mrs. Betts was permitted to a.s.sist at her toilette. It was a silent process this evening, and the penetration of the waiting-woman was at fault when she took furtive glances in the mirror at the subdued face that never smiled once, not even at its own beauty. She gave Lady Angleby an exact account of what had pa.s.sed, and added for interpretation, "Miss Fairfax was surprised and sorry, I'm sure. I should say she believed Miss Julia Gardiner to be attached to somebody else. The only question she asked was, Did I think she would be happy?"

Lady Angleby could extract nothing out of this.

Every one was aware of a change in Bessie when she went into the drawing-room; she felt as one feels who has heard bad news, and must conceal the impression of it. But the visible effect was that her original shyness seemed to have returned with more than her original pride, and she blushed vividly when Mr. Cecil Burleigh made her a low bow of compliment on her beautiful appearance. Mr. Fairfax had enriched his granddaughter that day with a suite of fine pearls, once his sister Dorothy's, and Bessie had not been able to deny herself the ornament of them, shining on her neck and arms. Her dress was white and bright as sea-foam in sunshine, but her own inimitable blooming freshness made her dress to be scarcely at all regarded. Every day at this period added something to her loveliness--the loveliness of youth, health, grace, and a good nature.

When dinner was over the three young people adjourned to the ball-room, leaving Lady Angleby and Mr. Fairfax together. Miss Burleigh and Bessie began by walking up and down arm-in-arm, then they took a few turns in a waltz, and after that Miss Burleigh said, "Cecil, Miss Fairfax and you are a perfect height to waltz together; try the floor, and I will go and play with the music-room door open. You will hear very well." She went off quickly the moment she had spoken, and Bessie could not refuse to try the floor, but she had a downcast, conscious air under her impromptu partner's observation. Mr. Cecil Burleigh was in a gay, light mood, as became him on this public occasion of his election triumph, and he was further elated by Miss Fairfax's amiable condescension in waltzing with him at his sister's behest; and as it was certainly a pleasure to any girl who loved waltzing to waltz with him, they went on until the music stopped at the sound of carriage-wheels.

"You are fond of dancing, Miss Fairfax?" said her cavalier.

"Oh yes," said Bessie with a pretty upward glance. She had enjoyed that waltz extremely; her natural animation was reviving, too buoyant to lie long under the depression of melancholy, philosophic reverie.

The guests were received in the drawing-room, and began to arrive in uninterrupted succession. Mr. and Mrs. Tindal, Lord and Lady Eden, Mr.

and Mrs. Philip Raymond, Mr. Maurice and Miss Lois Wynyard, Mrs. Lefevre and Miss Jean Lefevre, Mr. and Mrs. Chiverton, Colonel Stokes and his wife, and Sir Edward Lucas with an architectural scheme in his pocket; however, he danced none the worse for it, as Miss Fairfax testified by dancing with him three times. She had a charming audacity in evading awkward partners, and it was observed that she waltzed only with the new member. She looked in joyous spirits, and acknowledged no reason why she should deny herself a pleasure. More than once in the course of the evening she flattered Lady Angleby's hopes by telling her it was a most delicious ball.

Mr. Fairfax contemplated his granddaughter with serene speculation. Lady Angleby had communicated to him the results of Mrs. Betts's inquisition.

At a disengaged moment he noticed a wondering pathos in Bessie's eyes, which were following Mr. Cecil Burleigh's agile movements through the intricate mazes of the Lancers' Quadrilles. His prolonged gaze ended by attracting hers; she blushed and drew a long breath, and seemed to shake off some persistent thought. Then she came and asked, like a light-footed, mocking, merry girl, if he was not longing to dance too, and would he not dance with her? He dismissed her to pay a little attention to Mrs. Chiverton, who sat like a fine statue against the wall, unsought of partners, and Bessie went with cheerful submission.

Her former school-rival was kind to her now with a patronizing, married superiority that she did not dislike. Mrs. Chiverton knew from her husband of the family project for Miss Fairfax's settlement in life, and as she approved of Mr. Cecil Burleigh as highly as her allegiance to Mr.

Chiverton permitted her to approve of anybody but himself, she spoke at some length in his praise, desiring to be agreeable. Bessie suffered her to go on without check or discouragement; she must have understood the drift of many things this evening which had puzzled her hitherto, but she made no sign. Miss Burleigh said to her brother when they parted for the night that she really did not know what to think or what to advise, further than that Sir Edward Lucas ought to be "set down," or there was no guessing how far he might be tempted to encroach. Miss Fairfax, she considered, was too universally inclined to please.

Mr. Cecil Burleigh had no clear resolve of what he would do when he went to walk in the garden the next morning. He knew what he wanted. A sort of paradoxical exhilaration possessed him. He remembered his dear Julia with tender, weary regret, and gave his fancy license to dwell on the winsomeness of Bessie. And while it was so dwelling he heard her tuneful tongue as she came with Miss Burleigh over the gra.s.s, still white with h.o.a.r-frost where the sun had not fallen. He advanced to meet them.

"Oh, Cecil, here you are! Mr. Fairfax has been inquiring for you, but there is no hurry," said his sister, and she was gone.

Bessie wore a broad shady hat, yet not shady enough to conceal the impetuous blushes that mantled her cheeks on her companion's evasion.

She felt what it was the prelude to. Mr. Cecil Burleigh, inspired with the needful courage by these fallacious signs, broke into a stammering eloquence of pa.s.sion that was yet too plain to be misunderstood--not reflecting, he, that maiden blushes may have more sources than one. The hot torrent of Bessie's rose from the fountain of indignation in her heart--indignation at his inconstancy to the sweet lady who she knew loved him, and his impertinence in daring to address herself when she knew he loved that lady. She silently confessed that to this upshot his poor pretences of wooing had tended from the first, and that she had been wilfully half blind and wholly unbelieving--so unwilling are proud young creatures to imagine that their best feelings can be traded on--but she was none the less wrathful and scornful as she lifted her eyes, dilated with tears, to his, and sweeping him a curtsey turned away without a single word--without a single word, yet never was wooer more emphatically answered.

They parted and went different ways. Bessie, thinking she would give all she was worth that he had held his peace and let her keep her dream of pity and sympathy, took the shrubbery path to the village and Miss Hague's cottage-lodgings; and Mr. Cecil Burleigh, repenting too late the vain presumption that had reckoned on her youth and ignorance, apart from the divining power of an honest soul, walked off to Norminster to rid himself of his heavy sense of mortification and discomfiture.

Miss Burleigh saw her brother go down the road, and knew what had happened, and such a pang came with the certainty that only then did she realize how great had been her former confidence. She stood a long while at her window, listening and watching for Miss Fairfax's return to the house, but Bessie was resting in Miss Hague's parlor, hearing anecdotes of her father and uncles when they were little boys, and growing by degrees composed after her disturbing emotion. She wished to keep the morning's adventure to herself, or, if the story must be told, to leave the telling of it to Mr. Cecil Burleigh; and when she went back to the house, the old governess accompanying her, she betrayed no counsel by her face: that was rosy with the winter cold, and hardly waxed rosier when Lady Angleby expressed a wish to know what she had done with her nephew, missing since breakfast. Bessie very simply said that she had only seen him for a minute, and she believed that he had gone into the town; she had been paying a long-promised visit to Miss Hague.

Mr. Cecil Burleigh, reappearing midway the afternoon, was summoned to his aunt's closet and bidden to explain himself. The explanation was far from easy. Lady Angleby was profoundly irritated, and reproached her nephew with his blundering folly in visiting Miss Julia Gardiner in Miss Fairfax's company. She refused to believe but that his fascination must have proved irresistible if Miss Fairfax had not been led to the discovery of that faded romance. Was he quite sure that the young lady's answer was conclusive? Perfectly conclusive--so conclusive that he should not venture to address her again. "Not after Julia's marriage?"

his sister whispered. Lady Angleby urged a temporary retreat and then a new approach: it was impossible but that a fine, spirited girl like Miss Fairfax must have ambition and some appreciation of a distinguished mind; and how was her dear Cecil to support his position without the fortune she was to bring him? At this point Mr. Cecil Burleigh manifested a contemptuous and angry impatience against himself, and rose and left the discussion to his grieved and disappointed female relatives. Mr. Fairfax, on being informed of the repulse he had provoked, received the news calmly, and observed that it was no more than he had antic.i.p.ated.

Towards evening Bessie felt her fort.i.tude failing her, and did not appear at dinner nor in the drawing-room. Her excuses were understood and accepted, and in the morning early Mr. Cecil Burleigh conveyed himself away by train to London, that his absence might release her from seclusion. Before he went, in a consultation with his aunt and Mr.

Fairfax, it was agreed that the late episode in his courtship should be kept quiet and not treated as final. Later in the day Mr. Fairfax carried his granddaughter home to Abbotsmead, not unconsoled by the reflection that he was not to be called upon to resign her to make bright somebody else's hearth. Bessie was much subdued. She had pa.s.sed a bad night, she had shed many tears, and though she had not encountered one reproach, she was under the distressing consciousness that she had vexed several people who had been good to her. At the same time there could not be two opinions of the wicked duplicity of a gentleman who could profess to love and wish to marry her when his heart was devoted to another lady: she believed that she never could forgive him that insult.

Yet she was sorry even to tears again when she remembered him in the dull little drawing-room at Ryde, and Miss Julia Gardiner telling him that she had forgotten her old songs which he liked better than her new ones; for it had dawned upon her that this scene--it had struck her then as sad--must have been their farewell, the _finis_ to the love-chapter of their youth. Bessie averted her mind from the idea that Miss Julia Gardiner had consented to marry a rich, middle-aged gentleman who was a widower: she did not like it, it was utterly repugnant, she hated to think of it. Oh, that people would marry the right people, and not care so much for rank and money! Lady Angleby's loveliest sister had forty years ago aggrieved her whole family by marrying the poor squire of Carisfort; and Lady Angleby had said in Bessie's hearing that her sister was the most enviable woman she knew, happy as the day was long, though so positively indigent as to be thankful for her eldest daughter's half-worn Brentwood finery to smarten up her younger girls.

It must indeed be a cruel mistake to marry the wrong person. So far the wisdom and sentiment of Bessie Fairfax--all derived from observation or most trustworthy report--and therefore not to be laughed at, although she was so young.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

_A HARD STRUGGLE_.

Mr. Cecil Burleigh's departure to town so immediately after Lady Angleby's ball might have given rise to remark had he not returned to Brentwood before the month's end, and in excellent spirits. During his brief absence he had, however, found time to run down to the Isle of Wight and see Miss Julia Gardiner. In all trouble and vexation his thoughts still turned to her for rest.

Twice already a day had been named for the marriage, and twice it had been deferred to please her. It now stood fixed for February--"A good time to start for Rome and the Easter festivals," she had pleaded. Mr.

Brotherton was kindness itself in consideration for her wishes, but her own family felt that poor Julia was making a long agony of what, if it were to be done at all, were best done quickly. When Mr. Cecil Burleigh went to Ryde, he expected to find the preparations for the wedding very forward, but nothing seemed to have been begun. The young ladies were out walking, but Mrs. Gardiner, who had written him word that the 10th of December was the day, now told him almost in the first breath that it was put off again until the New Year.

"We shall all be thankful to have it over. I never knew dear Julia so capricious or so little thoughtful for others," said the poor languid, weary lady.

Mr. Cecil Burleigh heard the complaint with a miserable compa.s.sion, and when Julia came in, and her beautiful countenance broke into sunshine at the sight of him, he knew what a cruel antic.i.p.ation for her this marriage really was. He could have wished for her sake--and a little for his own too--that the last three months were blotted from their history; but when they came to talk together, Julia, with the quick discernment of a loving woman, felt that the youthful charms of Miss Fairfax had warmly engaged his imagination, though he had so much tenderness of heart still left for herself.

He did not stay long, and when he was going he said that it would have been wiser never to have come: it was a selfish impulse brought him--he wanted to see her. Julia laughed at his simple confession; her sister Helen was rather angry.

"Now, I suppose you will be all unsettled again, Julia," said she, though Julia had just then a most peaceful face. Helen was observant of her: "I know what you are dreaming--while there is the shadow of a chance that Cecil will return to you, Mr. Brotherton will be left hanging between earth and heaven."

"Oh, Nellie, I wish you would marry Mr. Brotherton yourself. Your appreciation of his merits is far higher than mine."

"If I were in your place I would not use him as you do: it _is_ a shame, Julia."

"It is not you who are sentenced to be buried alive, Nellie. I dare not look forward: I dread it more and more--"

"Of course. That is the effect of Cecil's ill-judged visit and Mary Burleigh's foolish letter. Pray, don't say so to mamma; it would be enough to lay her up for a week."

Julia shut her eyes and sighed greatly. "Fashionable marriages are advertised with the tag of 'no cards;' you will have to announce mine as 'under chloroform.' Nellie, I never can go through with it," was her cry.

"Oh, Julia," remonstrated her sister, "don't say that. If you throw over Mr. Brotherton, half our friends will turn their backs upon us. We have been wretchedly poor, but we have always been well thought of."

Miss Julia Gardiner's brief joy pa.s.sed in a thunder-shower of pa.s.sionate tears.

It was not intended that the rebuff Mr. Cecil Burleigh had received from Miss Fairfax should be generally known even by his friends, but it transpired nevertheless, and was whispered as a secret in various Norminster circles. Buller heard it, but was incredulous when he saw the new member in his visual spirits; Mrs. Stokes guessed it, and was astonished; Lady Angleby wrote about it to Lady Latimer with a pet.i.tion for advice, though why Lady Latimer should be regarded as specially qualified to advise in affairs of the heart was a mystery. She was not backward, however, in responding to the request: Let Mr. Cecil Burleigh hold himself in reserve until Miss Julia Gardiner's marriage was an accomplished fact, and then let him come forward again. Miss Fairfax had behaved naturally under the circ.u.mstances, and Lady Latimer could not blame her. When the young lady came to Fairfield in the spring, according to her grandfather's pledge, Mr. Cecil Burleigh should have the opportunity of meeting her there, but meanwhile he ought not entirely to give up calling at Abbotsmead. This Mr. Cecil Burleigh could not do without affronting his generous old friend--to whom Bessie gave no confidence, none being sought--but he timed his first visit during her temporary absence, and she heard of it as ordinary news on her return.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

_A VISIT TO CASTLEMOUNT._

Bessie Fairfax had been but a few days at home after the Brentwood rejoicings when there came for her an invitation from Mrs. Chiverton to spend a week at Castlemount. She was perfectly ready to go--more ready to go than her grandfather was to part with her. She read him the letter at breakfast; he said he would think about it, and at luncheon he had not yet made up his mind. Before post-time, however, he supposed he must let her choose her own a.s.sociates, and if she chose Mrs. Chiverton for old acquaintance' sake, he would not refuse his consent, but Mr.

Chiverton and he were not on intimate terms.

Bessie went to Castlemount under escort of Mrs. Betts. Mrs. Chiverton was rejoiced to welcome her. "I like Miss Fairfax, because she is honest. Her manner is a little brusque, but she has a good heart, and we knew each other at school," was her reason given to Mr. Chiverton for desiring Bessie's company. They got on together capitally. Mrs.

Chiverton had found her course and object in life already, and was as deeply committed to philanthropic labors and letters as either Lady Latimer or Lady Angleby. They were both numbered amongst her correspondents, and she promised to outvie them in originality and fertility of resource. What she chiefly wanted at Castlemount was a good listener, and Bessie Fairfax, as yet unprovided with a vocation, showed a fine turn that way. She reposed lazily at the end of Mrs. Chiverton's enc.u.mbered writing-table, between the fire and the window, and heard her discourse with infinite patience. Bessie was too moderate ever to join the sisterhood of active reformers, but she had no objection to their activity while herself safe from a.s.saults. But when she was invited to sign papers pledging herself to divers serious convictions she demurred.