"Did she, indeed?" she exclaimed. "How pleased Octavia will be to hear it! Did she, indeed?" Then, warned by a chilliness, and lack of response, in her ladyship"s manner, she modified her delight, and became apologetic again. "These young people are more--are less critical than we are," she sighed. "Octavia"s great prettiness"--
"I think," Lady Theobald interposed, "that Lucia has been taught to feel that the body is corruptible, and subject to decay, and that mere beauty is of small moment."
Miss Belinda sighed again.
"That is very true," she admitted deprecatingly; "very true indeed."
"It is to be hoped that Octavia"s stay in s...o...b..idge will prove beneficial to her," said her ladyship in her most judicial manner. "The atmosphere is wholly unlike that which has surrounded her during her previous life."
"I am sure it will prove beneficial to her," said Miss Belinda eagerly.
"The companionship of well-trained and refined young people cannot fail to be of use to her. Such a companion as Lucia would be, if you would kindly permit her to spend an evening with us now and then, would certainly improve and modify her greatly. Mr. Francis Barold is--is, I think, of the same opinion; at least, I fancied I gathered as much from a few words he let fall."
"Francis Barold?" repeated Lady Theobald. "And what did Francis Barold say?"
"Of course it was but very little," hesitated Miss Belinda; "but--but I could not help seeing that he was drawing comparisons, as it were.
Octavia was teaching Mr. Poppleton to play croquet; and she was rather exhilarated, and perhaps exhibited more--freedom of manner, in an innocent way,--quite in an innocent, thoughtless way,--than is exactly customary; and I saw Mr. Barold glance from her to Lucia, who stood near; and when I said, "You are thinking of the contrast between them," he answered, "Yes, they differ very greatly, it is true;" and of course I knew that my poor Octavia could not have the advantage in his eyes. She feels this herself, I know. She shocked me the other day, beyond expression, by telling me that she had asked him if he thought she was really fast, and that she was sure he did. Poor child! she evidently did not comprehend the dreadful significance of such terms."
"A man like Francis Barold does understand their significance," said Lady Theobald; "and it is to be deplored that your niece cannot be taught what her position in society will be if such a reputation attaches itself to her. The men of the present day fight shy of such characters."
This dread clause so impressed poor Miss Belinda by its solemnity, that she could not forbear repeating it to Octavia afterward, though it is to be regretted that it did not produce the effect she had hoped.
"Well, I must say," she observed, "that if some men fought a little shyer than they do, I shouldn"t mind it. You always _do_ have about half a dozen dangling around, who only bore you, and who will keep asking you to go to places, and sending you bouquets, and asking you to dance when they can"t dance at all, and only tear your dress, and stand on your feet. If they would "fight shy," it would be splendid."
To Miss Belinda, who certainly had never been guilty of the indecorum of having any member of the stronger s.e.x "dangling about" at all, this was very trying.
"My dear," she said, "don"t say "you always have;" it--it really seems to make it so personal."
Octavia turned around, and fixed her eyes wonderingly upon her blushing countenance. For a moment she made no remark, a marvellous thought shaping itself slowly in her mind.
"Aunt Belinda," she said at length, "did n.o.body ever"--
"Ah, no, my dear! No, no, I a.s.sure you!" cried Miss Belinda, in the greatest possible trepidation. "Ah, dear, no! Such--such things rarely--very rarely happen in--s...o...b..idge; and, besides, I couldn"t possibly have thought of it. I couldn"t, indeed!"
She was so overwhelmed with maidenly confusion at the appalling thought, that she did not recover herself for half an hour at least. Octavia, feeling that it would not be safe to pursue the subject, only uttered one word of comment,--
"Gracious!"
CHAPTER XIX.
AN EXPERIMENT.
Much to her own astonishment, Lucia found herself allowed new liberty.
She was permitted to spend the afternoon frequently with Octavia; and on several occasions that young lady and Miss Ba.s.sett were invited to partake of tea at Oldclough in company with no other guest than Francis Barold.
"I don"t know what it means, and I think it must mean something," said Lucia to Octavia; "but it is very pleasant. I never was allowed to be so intimate with any one before."
"Perhaps," suggested Octavia sagely, "she thinks, that, if you see me often enough, you will get sick of me, and it will be a lesson to you."
"The more I see of you," answered Lucia with a serious little air, "the fonder I am of you. I understand you better. You are not at all like what I thought you at first, Octavia."
"But I don"t know that there"s much to understand in me."
"There is a great deal to understand in you," she replied. "You are a puzzle to me often. You seem so frank, and yet one knows so little about you after all. For instance," Lucia went on, "who would imagine that you are so affectionate?"
"Am I affectionate?" she asked.
"Yes," answered Lucia: "I am sure you are very affectionate. I have found it out gradually. You would suffer things for any one you loved."
Octavia thought the matter over.
"Yes," she said at length, "I would."
"You are very fond of Miss Ba.s.sett," proceeded Lucia, as if arraigning her at the bar of justice. "You are _very_ fond of your father; and I am sure there are other people you are very fond of--_very_ fond of indeed."
Octavia pondered seriously again.
"Yes, there are," she remarked; "but no one would care about them here, and so I"m not going to make a fuss. You don"t want to make a fuss over people you l-like."
"_You_ don"t," said Lucia. "You are like Francis Barold in one way, but you are altogether different in another. Francis Barold does not wish to show emotion; and he is so determined to hedge himself around, that one can"t help suspecting that he is always guarding himself against one. He seems always to be resenting any interference; but you do not appear to care at all, and so it is not natural that one should suspect you. I did not suspect you."
"What do you suspect me of now?"
"Of thinking a great deal," answered Lucia affectionately. "And of being very clever and very good."
Octavia was silent for a few moments.
"I think," she said after the pause,--"I think you"ll find out that it"s a mistake."
"No, I shall not," returned Lucia, quite glowing with enthusiasm. "And I know I shall learn a great deal from you."
This was such a startling proposition that Octavia felt decidedly uncomfortable. She flushed rosy red.
"I"m the one who ought to learn things, I think," she said. "I"m always doing things that frighten aunt Belinda, and you know how the rest regard me."
"Octavia," said Lucia, very naively indeed, "suppose we try to help each other. If you will tell me when I am wrong, I will try to--to have the courage to tell you. That will be good practice for me. What I want most is courage and frankness, and I am sure it will take courage to make up my mind to tell you of your--of your mistakes."
Octavia regarded her with mingled admiration and respect.
"I think that"s a splendid idea," she said.
"Are you sure," faltered Lucia, "are you sure you won"t mind the things I may have to say? Really, they are quite little things in themselves--hardly worth mentioning"--
"Tell me one of them, right now," said Octavia, point-blank.