The Young Step-Mother Part 98

Genevieve was really grateful, and had many questions to ask about her aunt, which met with detailed answers.

'By-the-by,' said Ulick,' I met Mr. Hope in the street as I was coming away, I offered him a lift, but he said he was not coming home till late. I wonder what he is doing.'

Albinia and Sophy exchanged glances, and had almost said, 'Poor Mr.

Hope!' It was very hard that the good fortune and mere good nature of an indifferent person should push him where the quiet curate so much wished to be. Albinia would have liked to have had either a little impudence or a little tact to enable her to give a hint to Ulick to be less officious.

St. Leocadia's feast was the 9th of December. Three days after, Genevieve received a letter which made her change countenance, and hurry to her own room, whence she did not emerge till luncheon-time.

In the late afternoon, there was a knock at the drawing-room door, and Mr. Dusautoy said, 'Can I speak with you a minute, Mrs. Kendal?'

Dreading ill news of Lucy, she hurried to the morning-room with him.

'f.a.n.n.y said I had better speak to you. This poor fellow is in a dreadful state.'

'Algernon!'

'No, indeed. Poor Hope! What has possessed the girl?'

'Genevieve has not refused him?'

'Did you not know it? I found him in his rooms as white as a sheet!

I asked what was the matter, he begged me to let him go away for one Sunday, and find him a subst.i.tute. I saw how it was, and at the first word he broke down and told me.'

'Was this to-day?'

'Yes. What can the silly little puss be thinking of to put an excellent fellow like that to so much pain? Going about it in such an admirable way, too, writing to old Mamselle first, and getting a letter from her which he sends with his own, and promising to guarantee her fifty pounds a year out of his own pocket. 'I should like to know what that little Jenny means by it. I gave her credit for more sense.'

'Perhaps she thinks, under the circ.u.mstances of her coming here, within the year--'

'Ah! very proper, very pretty of her; I never thought of that; I suppose I have your permission to tell Hope?'

'I believe all the town knew it,' said Albinia.

'Yes; he need not be downhearted, he has only to be patient, and he will like her the better for it. After all, though he is as good a man as breathes, he cannot be Gilbert, and it will be a great relief to him.

I'll tell him to put all his fancies about O'More out of his head.'

'Most decidedly,' said Albinia; 'nothing can be greater nonsense. Tell him by no means to go away, for when she finds that our feelings are not hurt, and has become used to the idea, I have every hope that she will be able to form a new--'

'Ay; ay; poor Gilbert would have wished it himself. It is very good of you, Mrs. Kendal; I'll put the poor fellow in spirits again.'

'Did you hear whether she gave any reasons?'

'Oh! I don't know--something about her birth and station; but that's stuff--she's a perfect lady, and much more.'

'And he is only a bookseller's son.'

'True, and though it might be awkward to have the parson's father-in-law cutting capers if he lived in the same town, yet being dead these fifteen or eighteen years, where's the damage?'

'Was that all?'

'I fancy that she said she never meant to marry, but that's all nonsense; she is the very girl that ought, and I hope you will talk to her and bring her to reason. There's not a couple in the whole place that I should be so glad to marry as those two.'

Albinia endeavoured to discuss the matter with Genevieve that night when they went upstairs. It was not easy to do, for Genevieve seemed resolved to wish her good-night outside her door, but she made her entrance, and putting her arm round her little friend's waist, said, 'Am I very much in your way, my dear? I thought you might want a little help, or at least a little talk.'

'Oh! Mrs. Kendal, I hoped you did not know!' and her eyes filled with tears.

Mr. Dusautoy told me, my dear; poor Mr. Hope's distress betrayed him, and Mr. Dusautoy was anxious I should--'

Genevieve did not let her finish, but exclaiming, 'I did not expect this from you, madame,' gave way to a shower of tears.

'My dear child, do we not all feel you the more one with ourselves for this reluctance?' said Albinia, caressing her fondly. 'It shall not be forced upon you any more till you can bear it.'

''Till!' exclaimed Genevieve, alarmed. 'Oh! do not say that! Do not hold out false hopes! I never shall!'

'I do not think you are a fair judge as yet, my dear.'

'I think I am,' said Genevieve, slowly, 'I must not let you love me on false pretences, dearest Mrs. Kendal. I do not think it is all for--for his sake--but indeed, though I must esteem Mr. Hope, I do not believe I could ever feel for him as--' then breaking off. 'I pray you, with all my heart, dearest friend, never to speak to me of marriage. I am the little governess, and while Heaven gives me strength to work for my aunt, and you let me call this my home, I am content, I am blessed. Oh!

do not disturb and unsettle me!'

So imploringly did she speak, that she obliterated all thought of the prudent arguments with which Albinia had come stored. It was no time for them; there was no possibility of endeavouring to dethrone the memory of her own Gilbert, and her impulse was far more to agree that no one else could ever be loved, than to argue in favour of a new attachment. She was proud of Gilbert for being thus recollected, and doubly pleased with the widowed heart; nor was it till the first effect of Genevieve's tears had pa.s.sed off that she began to reflect that the idea might become familiar, and that romance having been abundantly satisfied by the constancy of the Lancer, sober esteem might be the basis of very happy married affection.

Mr. Hope did not go away, but he shrank into himself, and grew more timid than ever, and it was through the Dusautoys that Albinia learnt that he was much consoled, and intended to wait patiently. He had written to Mdlle. Belmarche, who had been extremely disappointed, and continued to believe that so excellent and well brought up a young girl as her niece would not resist her wishes with regard to a young pastor so respectable.

Sophy, when made aware of what was going on, did not smile or shed a tear, only a strange whiteness came across her face. She made a commonplace remark with visible effort, nor was she quite herself for some time. It was as if the reference to her brother had stirred up the old wound. Genevieve seemed to have been impelled to manifest her determination of resuming her occupation, she wrote letters vigorously, answered advertis.e.m.e.nts, and in spite of the united protest of her friends, advertised herself as a young person of French extraction, but a member of the Church of England, accustomed to tuition, and competent to instruct in French, Italian, music, and all the ordinary branches of education. Address, G. C. D., Mr. Richardson's, bookseller, Bayford.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

Miss Goldsmith went to spend Christmas with an old friend, leaving Ulick more liberty than he had enjoyed for a long time. He used it a good deal at Willow Lawn, and was there of course on Christmas-day. After dinner the decoration of the church was under discussion. The Bayford neighbourhood was unpropitious to holly, and Sophy and Genevieve had hardly ever seen any, except that Genevieve remembered the sooty bits sold in London. Something pa.s.sed about sending for a specimen from Fairmead, but Albinia said that would not answer, for her brother's children were in despair at the absence of berries, and had ransacked Colonel Bury's plantations in vain.

The next day, about twilight, Albinia and Sophy were arranging some Christmas gifts for the old women, in the morning-room; Genevieve was to come and help them on her return from the child in Tibb's Alley.

'Oh, here she comes, up the garden,' said Sophy, who was by the window.

Presently Albinia heard a strange sound as of tightened breath, and looking up saw Sophy deathly pale, with her eyes fixed on the window. In terror she flew to her side, but Sophy spoke not, she only clutched her hand with fingers cold and tight as iron, and gazed with dilated eyes.

Albinia looked--

Ulick had come from the house--there was a scarlet-berried spray in Genevieve's hand, which she was trying to make him take again--his face was all pleading and imploring--she turned hastily from him, and they saw her cheek glowing with crimson--she tried to force back the holly spray--but her hand was caught--he was kissing it. No, she had rent it away--she had fled in through the conservatory--they heard the doors--she had rushed up to her own room.

Sophy's grasp grew more rigid--she panted for breath.

'My child! my child!' said Albinia, throwing her arms round her, expecting her to faint. 'Oh! could I have imagined such treason?' Her eyes flashed, and her frame quivered with indignation. 'He shall never come into this house again!'

'Mamma! hush!' said Sophy, releasing herself from her embrace, and keeping her body upright, though obliged to seat herself on the nearest chair. 'It is not treason,' she said slowly, as though her mouth were parched.