The Wolves And The Lamb Part 4

MRS. PRIOR.--Ah! but isn't it a cause of thankfulness to be MADE welcome? Oughtn't I to be grateful for these blessings?--yes, I say BLESSINGS. And I am--I am, Lady Kicklebury--to the mother--of--that angel who is gone [points to the picture]. It was your sainted daughter left us--left my child to the care of Mr. Milliken, and--and you, who are now his guardian angel I may say. You ARE, Lady Kicklebury--you are. I say to my girl, Julia, Lady Kicklebury is Mr. Milliken's guardian angel, is YOUR guardian angel--for without you could she keep her place as governess to these darling children? It would tear her heart in two to leave them, and yet she would be forced to do so. You know that some one--shall I hesitate to say whom I MEAN--that Mr. Milliken's mother, excellent lady though she is, does not love my child because YOU love her. You DO love her, Lady Kicklebury, and oh! a mother's fond heart pays you back! But for you, my poor Julia must go--go, and leave the children whom a dying angel confided to her!

LADY K.--Go! no, never! not whilst I am in this house, Mrs. Prior. Your daughter is a well-behaved young woman: you have confided to me her long engagement to Lieutenant--Lieutenant What-d'you-call'im, in the Indian service. She has been very, very good to my grandchildren--she brought them over from Naples when my--my angel of an Arabella died there, and I will protect Miss Prior.

MRS. PRIOR.--Bless you, bless you, n.o.ble, admirable woman! Don't take it away! I must, I WILL kiss your dear, generous hand! Take a mother's, a widow's blessings, Lady Kicklebury--the blessings of one who has known misfortune and seen better days, and thanks heaven--yes, heaven!--for the protectors she has found!

LADY K.--You said--you had--several children, I think, my good Mrs.

Prior?

MRS. PRIOR.--Three boys--one, my eldest blessing, is in a wine-merchant's office--ah, if Mr. Milliken WOULD but give him an order!

an order from THIS house! an order from Lady Kicklebury's son-in-law!--

LADY K.--It shall be done, my good Prior--we will see.

MRS. PRIOR.--Another, Adolphus, dear fellow! is in Christ's Hospital.

It was dear, good Mr. Milliken's nomination. Frederick is at Merchant Taylor's: my darling Julia pays his schooling. Besides, I have two girls--Amelia, quite a little toddles, just the size, though not so beautiful--but in a mother's eyes all children are lovely, dear Lady Kicklebury--just the size of your dear granddaughter, whose clothes would fit her, I am sure. And my second, Charlotte, a girl as tall as your ladyship, though not with so fine a figure. "Ah, no, Shatty!" I say to her, "you are as tall as our dear patroness, Lady Kicklebury, whom you long so to see; but you have not got her ladyship's carriage and figure, child." Five children have I, left fatherless and penniless by my poor dear husband--but heaven takes care of the widow and orphan, madam--and heaven's BEST CREATURES feed them!--YOU know whom I mean.

LADY K.--Should you not like, would you object to take--a frock or two of little Arabella's to your child? and if Pinhorn, my maid, will let me, Mrs. Prior, I will see if I cannot find something against winter for your second daughter, as you say we are of a size.

MRS. PRIOR.--The widow's and orphans' blessings upon you! I said my Charlotte was as tall, but I never said she had such a figure as yours--who has?

CHARLES announces--

CHARLES.--Mrs. Bonnington! [Enter MRS. BONNINGTON.]

MRS. B.--How do you do, Lady Kicklebury?

LADY K.--My dear Mrs. Bonnington! and you come to dinner of course?

MRS. B.--To dine with my own son, I may take the liberty. How are my grandchildren? my darling little Emily, is she well, Mrs. Prior?

LADY K. [aside].--Emily? why does she not call the child by her blessed mother's name of Arabella? [To MRS. B.] ARABELLA is quite well, Mrs.

Bonnington. Mr. Squillings said it was nothing; only her grandmamma Bonnington spoiling her, as usual. Mr. Bonnington and all your numerous young folk are well, I hope?

MRS. B.--My family are all in perfect health, I thank you. Is Horace come home from the city?

LADY K.--Goodness! there's the dinner-bell,--I must run to dress.

MRS. PRIOR.--Shall I come with you, dear Lady Kicklebury?

LADY K.--Not for worlds, my good Mrs. Prior. [Exit Lady K.]

MRS. PRIOR.--How do you do, my DEAR madam? Is dear Mr. Bonnington QUITE well? What a sweet, sweet sermon he gave us last Sunday. I often say to my girl, I must not go to hear Mr. Bonnington, I really must not, he makes me cry so. Oh! he is a great and gifted man, and shall I not have one glimpse of him?

MRS. B.--Sat.u.r.day evening, my good Mrs. Prior. Don't you know that my husband never goes out on Sat.u.r.day, having his sermon to compose?

MRS. P.--Oh, those dear, dear sermons! Do you know, madam, that my little Adolphus, for whom your son's bounty procured his place at Christ's Hospital, was very much touched indeed, the dear child, with Mr. Bonnington's discourse last Sunday three weeks, and refused to play marbles afterwards at school? The wicked, naughty boys beat the poor child; but Adolphus has his consolation! Is Master Edward well, ma'am, and Master Robert, and Master Frederick, and dear little funny Master William?

MRS. B.--Thank you, Mrs. Prior; you have a good heart, indeed!

MRS. P.--Ah, what blessings those dears are to you! I wish your dearest little GRANDSON---

MRS. B.--The little naughty wretch! Do you know, Mrs. Prior, my grandson, George Milliken, spilt the ink over my dear husband's bands, which he keeps in his great dictionary; and fought with my child, Frederick, who is three years older than George--actually beat his own uncle!

MRS. P.--Gracious mercy! Master Frederick was not hurt, I hope?

MRS. B.--No; he cried a great deal; and then Robert came up, and that graceless little George took a stick; and then my husband came out, and do you know George Milliken actually kicked Mr. Bonnington on his shins, and b.u.t.ted him like a little naughty ram?

MRS. P.--Mercy! mercy! what a little rebel! He is spoiled, dear madam, and you know by WHOM.

MRS. B.--By his grandmamma Kicklebury. I know it. I want my son to whip that child, but he refuses. He will come to no good; that child.

MRS. P.--Ah, madam, don't say so! Let us hope for the best. Master George's high temper will subside when certain persons who pet him are gone away.

MRS. B.--Gone away! they never will go away! No, mark my words, Mrs.

Prior, that woman will never go away. She has made the house her own: she commands everything and everybody in it. She has driven me--me--Mr.

Milliken's own mother--almost out of it. She has so annoyed my dear husband, that Mr. Bonnington will scarcely come here. Is she not always sneering at private tutors, because Mr. Bonnington was my son's private tutor, and greatly valued by the late Mr. Milliken? Is she not making constant allusions to old women marrying young men, because Mr.

Bonnington happens to be younger than me? I have no words to express my indignation respecting Lady Kicklebury. She never pays any one, and runs up debts in the whole town. Her man Bulkeley's conduct in the neighborhood is quite--quite--

MRS. P.--Gracious goodness, ma'am, you don't say so! And then what an appet.i.te the gormandizing monster has! Mary tells me that what he eats in the servants' hall is something perfectly frightful.

MRS. B.--Everybody feeds on my poor son! You are looking at my cap, Mrs.

Prior? [During this time MRS. PRIOR has been peering into a parcel which MRS. BONNINGTON brought in her hand.] I brought it with me across the Park. I could not walk through the Park in my cap. Isn't it a pretty ribbon, Mrs. Prior?

MRS. P.--Beautiful! beautiful? How blue becomes you! Who would think you were the mother of Mr. Milliken and seven other darling children? You can afford what Lady Kicklebury cannot.

MRS. B.--And what is that, Prior? A poor clergyman's wife, with a large family, cannot afford much.

MRS. P.--He! he! You can afford to be seen as you are, which Lady K.

cannot. Did you not remark how afraid she seemed lest I should enter her dressing-room? Only Pinhorn, her maid, goes there, to arrange the roses, and the lilies, and the figure--he! he! Oh, what a sweet, sweet cap-ribbon! When you have worn it, and are tired of it, you will give it me, won't you? It will be good enough for poor old Martha Prior!

MRS. B.--Do you really like it? Call at Greenwood Place, Mrs. Prior, the next time you pay Richmond a visit, and bring your little girl with you, and we will see.

MRS. P.--Oh, thank you! thank you! Nay, don't be offended! I must! I must! [Kisses MRS. BONNINGTON.]

MRS. B.--There, there! We must not stay chattering! The bell has rung. I must go and put the cap on, Mrs. Prior.

MRS. P.--And I may come too? YOU are not afraid of my seeing your hair, dear Mrs. Bonnington! Mr. Bonnington too young for YOU! Why, you don't look twenty!

MRS. B.--Oh, Mrs. Prior!

MRS. P.--Well, five-and-twenty, upon my word--not more than five-and-twenty--and that is the very prime of life. [Exeunt Mrs. B. and Mrs. P., hand in hand. As Captain TOUCHIT enters, dressed for dinner, he bows and pa.s.ses on.]

TOUCHIT.--So, we are to wear our white cravats, and our varnished boots, and dine in ceremony. What is the use of a man being a widower, if he can't dine in his shooting-jacket? Poor Mill! He has the slavery now without the wife. [He speaks sarcastically to the picture.] Well, well!

Mrs. Milliken! YOU, at any rate, are gone; and with the utmost respect for you, I like your picture even better than the original. Miss Prior!

Enter Miss PRIOR.

MISS PRIOR.--I beg pardon. I thought you were gone to dinner. I heard the second bell some time since. [She is drawing back.]