It was indeed true that the Rev. Arthur Poppleton had spent the greater part of his afternoon in Miss Belinda Ba.s.sett"s front parlor, and that Octavia had entertained him in such a manner that he had been beguiled into forgetting the clerical visits he had intended to make, and had finally committed himself by a promise to return a day or two later to play croquet. His object in calling had been to request Miss Belinda"s a.s.sistance in a parochial matter. His natural timorousness of nature had indeed led him to put off making the visit for as long a time as possible. The reports he had heard of Miss Octavia Ba.s.sett had inspired him with great dread. Consequently he had presented himself at Miss Belinda"s front door with secret anguish.
"Will you say," he had faltered to Mary Anne, "that it is Mr. Poppleton, to see _Miss_ Ba.s.sett--Miss _Belinda_ Ba.s.sett?"
And then he had been handed into the parlor, the door had been closed behind him, and he had found himself shut up entirely alone in the room with Miss Octavia Ba.s.sett herself.
His first impulse was to turn, and flee precipitately: indeed, he even went so far as to turn, and clutch the handle of the door; but somehow a second thought arrived in time to lead him to control himself.
This second thought came with his second glance at Octavia.
She was not at all what he had pictured her. Singularly enough, no one had told him that she was pretty; and he had thought of her as a gaunt young person, with a determined and manly air. She struck him, on the contrary, as being extremely girlish and charming to look upon. She wore the pale pink gown; and as he entered he saw her give a furtive little dab to her eyes with a lace handkerchief, and hurriedly crush an open letter into her pocket. Then, seeming to dismiss her emotion with enviable facility, she rose to greet him.
"If you want to see aunt Belinda," she said, "perhaps you had better sit down. She will be here directly." He plucked up spirit to take a seat, suddenly feeling his terror take wing. He was amazed at his own courage.
"Th-thank you," he said. "I have the pleasure of"--There, it is true, he stopped, looked at her, blushed, and finished somewhat disjointedly.
"Miss Octavia Ba.s.sett, I believe."
"Yes," she answered, and sat down near him.
When Miss Belinda descended the stairs, a short time afterward, her ears were greeted by the sound of brisk conversation, in which the Rev. Arthur Poppleton appeared to be taking part with before-unheard-of spirit. When he arose at her entrance, there was in his manner an air of mild buoyancy which astonished her beyond measure. When he re-seated himself, he seemed quite to forget the object of his visit for some minutes, and was thus placed in the embarra.s.sing position of having to refer to his note-book.
Having done so, and found that he had called to ask a.s.sistance for the family of one of his parishioners, he recovered himself somewhat. As he explained the exigencies of the case, Octavia listened.
"Well," she said, "I should think it would make you quite uncomfortable, if you see things like that often."
"I regret to say I do see such things only too frequently," he answered.
"Gracious!" she said; but that was all.
He was conscious of being slightly disappointed at her apathy; and perhaps it is to be deplored that he forgot it afterward, when Miss Belinda had bestowed her mite, and the case was dismissed for the time being. He really did forget it, and was beguiled into making a very long call, and enjoying himself as he had never enjoyed himself before.
When, at length, he was recalled to a sense of duty by a glance at the clock, he had already before his eyes an opening vista of delights, taking the form of future calls, and games of croquet played upon Miss Belinda"s neatly-shaven gra.s.s-plat. He had bidden the ladies adieu in the parlor, and, having stepped into the hall, was fumbling rather excitedly in the umbrella-stand for his own especially slender clerical umbrella, when he was awakened to new rapture by hearing Miss Octavia"s tone again.
He turned, and saw her standing quite near him, looking at him with rather an odd expression, and holding something in her hand.
"Oh!" she said. "See here,--those people."
"I--beg pardon," he hesitated. "I don"t quite understand."
"Oh, yes!" she answered. "Those desperately poor wretches, you know, with fever, and leaks in their house, and all sorts of disagreeable things the matter with them. Give them this, won"t you?"
"This" was a pretty silk purse, through whose meshes he saw the gleam of gold coin.
"That?" he said. "You don"t mean--isn"t there a good deal--I beg pardon--but really"--
"Well, if they are as poor as you say they are, it won"t be too much,"
she replied. "I don"t suppose they"ll object to it: do you?"
She extended it to him as if she rather wished to get it out of her hands.
"You"d better take it," she said. "I shall spend it on something I don"t need, if you don"t. I"m always spending money on things I don"t care for afterward."
He was filled with remorse, remembering that he had thought her apathetic.
"I--I really thought you were not interested at all," he burst forth.
"Pray forgive me. This is generous indeed."
She looked down at some particularly brilliant rings on her hand, instead of looking at him.
"Oh, well!" she said, "I think it must be simply horrid to have to do without things. I can"t see how people live. Besides, I haven"t denied myself any thing. It would be worth talking about if I had, I suppose.
Oh! By the by, never mind telling any one, will you?"
Then, without giving him time to reply, she raised her eyes to his face, and plunged into the subject of the croquet again, pursuing it until the final moment of his exit and departure, which was when Mrs. Burnham and Miss Pilcher had been scandalized at the easy freedom of her adieus.
CHAPTER XV.
SUPERIOR ADVANTAGES.
When Mr. Francis Barold called to pay his respects to Lady Theobald, after partaking of her hospitality, Mr. Burmistone accompanied him; and, upon almost every other occasion of his presenting himself to her ladyship, Mr. Burmistone was his companion.
It may as well be explained at the outset, that the mill-owner of Burmistone Mills was a man of decided determination of character, and that, upon the evening of Lady Theobald"s tea, he had arrived at the conclusion that he would spare no effort to gain a certain end he felt it would add to his happiness to accomplish.
"I stand rather in awe of Lady Theobald, as any ordinary man would," he had said dryly to Barold, on their return to his house. "But my awe of her is not so great yet that I shall allow it to interfere with any of my plans."
"Have you any especial plan?" inquired Barold carelessly, after a pause.
"Yes," answered Mr. Burmistone,--"several. I should like to go to Oldclough rather often."
"I feel it the civil thing to go to Oldclough oftener than I like. Go with me."
"I should like to be included in all the invitations to tea for the next six months."
"I shall be included in all the invitations so long as I remain here; and it is not likely you will be left out in the cold. After you have gone the rounds once, you won"t be dropped."
"Upon the whole, it appears so," said Mr. Burmistone. "Thanks."
So, at each of the tea-parties following Lady Theobald"s, the two men appeared together. The small end of the wedge being inserted into the social stratum, the rest was not so difficult. Mrs. Burnham was at once surprised and overjoyed by her discoveries of the many excellences of the man they had so hastily determined to ignore. Mrs. Abercrombie found Mr.
Burmistone"s manner all that could be desired. Miss Pilcher expressed the highest appreciation of his views upon feminine education and "our duty to the young in our charge." Indeed, after Mrs. Egerton"s evening, the tide of public opinion turned suddenly in his favor.
Public opinion did not change, however, as far as Octavia was concerned.
Having had her anxiety set at rest by several encouraging paternal letters from Nevada, she began to make up her mind to enjoy herself, and was, it is to be regretted, betrayed by her youthful high spirits into the committing of numerous indiscretions. Upon each festal occasion she appeared in a new and elaborate costume: she accepted the attentions of Mr. Francis Barold, as if it were the most natural thing in the world that they should be offered; she joked--in what Mrs. Burnham designated "her Nevada way"--with the Rev. Arthur Poppleton, who appeared more frequently than had been his habit at the high teas. She played croquet with that gentleman and Mr. Barold day after day, upon the gra.s.s-plat, before all the eyes gazing down upon her from the neighboring windows; she managed to coerce Mr. Burmistone into joining these innocent orgies; and, in fact, to quote Miss Pilcher, there was "no limit to the shamelessness of her unfeminine conduct."
Several times much comment had been aroused by the fact that Lucia Gaston had been observed to form one of the party of players. She had indeed played with Barold, against Octavia and Mr. Poppleton, on the memorable day upon which that gentleman had taken his first lesson.