"What, dear aunt?"
"That your gown fits me ever so much better than my own." She sighed deeply.
Lucy smiled slyly; but she replied, "Is not that fancy?"
"No, Lucy, no," was the solemn reply; "I have tried to shut my eyes to it, but I can"t."
"So it seems. Ha! ha!"
"Now do be serious; it is no laughing matter. How unfortunate I am!"
"Not at all. Take my gown; I can easily alter yours to fit me, if necessary."
"Oh, you good girl, how clever you are! I should never have thought of that." N. B--She had been thinking of nothing else these six hours.
"Go to bed, dear, and sleep in peace," said Lucy, soothingly. "Leave all to me."
"No, I can"t leave all to you. Now I am to have yours, I must try it on." It was hers now, so her confidence in its fitting was shaken.
Mrs. Bazalgette then lighted all the candles in the sconces, and opened Lucy"s drawers, and took out linen, and put on the dress with Lucy"s aid, and showed Lucy how it fitted, and was charmed, like a child with a new toy.
Presently Lucy interrupted her raptures by an exclamation. Mrs.
Bazalgette looked round, and there was her niece inspecting the ghostly robe which had caused her such a fright.
"Here are oceans of yards of lace on her very nightgrown!" cried Lucy.
"Well, does not every lady wear lace on her nightgown?" was the tranquil reply. "What is that on yours, pray?"
"A little misery of Valenciennes an inch broad; but this is Mechlin--superb! delicious! Well, aunt, you are a sincere votary of the graces; you put on fine things because they are fine things, not with the hollow motive of dazzling society; you wear Mechlin, not for _eclat,_ but for Mechlin. Alas! how few, like you, pursue quite the same course in the dark that they do in the world"s eye."
"Don"t moralize, dear; unhook me!"
After breakfast Mrs. Bazalgette asked Lucy how long she could give her to choose which of the two gowns to take, after all.
"Till eight o"clock."
Mrs. Bazalgette breathed again. She had thought herself committed to No. 2, and No. 1 was beginning to look lovely in consequence. At eight, the choice being offered her with impenetrable nonchalance by Lucy, she took Lucy"s without a moment"s hesitation, and sailed off gayly to her own room to put it on, in which progress the ample peach-colored silk held out in both hands showed like Cleopatra"s foresail, and seemed to draw the dame along.
Lucy, too, was happy--demurely; for in all this business the female novice, "la ruse sans le savoir," had outwitted the veteran. Lucy had measured her whole aunt. So she made dress A for her, but told her she was to have dress B. This at once gave her desires a perverse bent toward her own property, the last direction they could have been warped into by any other means; and so she was deluded to her good, and fitted to a hair, soul and body.
Going to the ball, one cloud darkened for an instant the matron"s mind.
"I am so afraid they will see it only cost nine pounds."
"Enfant!" replied Lucy, "aetat. 20." At the ball Mr. Hardie and Lucy danced together, and were the most admired couple.
The next day Mr. Hardie announced that he was obliged to curtail his visit and go up to London. Mrs. Bazalgette remonstrated. Mr. Hardie apologized, and asked permission to make out the rest of his visit on his return. Mrs. B. accorded joyfully, but Lucy objected: "Aunt, don"t you be deluded into any such arrangement; Mr. Hardie is liable to another fortnight. We have nothing to do with his mismanagement. He comes to spend a fortnight with us: he tries, but fails. I am sorry for Mr. Hardie, but the engagement remains in full force. I appeal to you, Mr. Bazalgette, you are so exact."
"I don"t see myself how he can get out of it with credit," said Bazalgette, solemnly.
"I am happy to find that my duty is on the side of my inclination,"
said Mr. Hardie. He smiled, well pleased, and looked handsomer than ever.
They all missed him more or less, but n.o.body more than Lucy. His conversation had a peculiar charm for her. His knowledge of current events was unparalleled; then there was a quiet potency in him she thought very becoming in a man; and then his manner. He was the first of our unfortunate s.e.x who had reached beau ideal. One was harsh, another finicking; a third loud; a fourth enthusiastic; a fifth timid; and all failed in tact except Mr. Hardie. Then, other male voices were imperfect; they were too insignificant or too startling, too ba.s.s or too treble, too something or too other. Mr. Hardie"s was a mellow tenor, always modulated to the exact tone of good society. Like herself, too, he never laughed loud, seldom out; and even his smiles, like her own, did not come in unmeaning profusion, so they told when they did come.
The Bazalgettes led a very quiet life for the next fortnight, for Mrs.
Bazalgette was husbanding invitations for Mr. Hardie"s return.
Mrs. Bazalgette yawned many times during this barren period, but with considerate benevolence she shielded Lucy from _ennui._ Lucy was a dressmaker, gifted, but inexperienced; well, then, she would supply the latter deficiency by giving her an infinite variety of alterations to make in a mult.i.tude of garments. There are egotists who charge for tuition, but she would teach her dear niece gratis. A mountain of dresses rose in the drawing-room, a dozen metamorphoses were put in hand, and a score more projected.
"She pulled down, she built up, she rounded the angular, and squared the round." And here Mr. Bazalgette took perverse views and misbehaved. He was a very honest man, but not a refined courtier. He seldom interfered with these ladies, one way or other, except to provide funds, which interference was never snubbed; for was he not master of the house in that sense? But, having observed what was going on day after day in the drawing-room or workshop, he walked in and behaved himself like a brute.
"How much a week does she give you, Lucy?" said he, looking a little red.
Lucy opened her eyes in utter astonishment, and said nothing; her very needle and breath were suspended.
Mrs. Bazalgette shrugged her shoulders to Lucy, but disdained words.
Mr. Bazalgette turned to his wife.
"I have often recommended economy to you, Jane, I need not say with what success; but this sort of economy is not for your credit or mine.
If you want to add a dressmaker to your staff--with all my heart. Send for one when you like, and keep her to all eternity. But this young lady is our ward, and I will not have her made a servant of for your convenience."
"Put your work down, dear," said Mrs. Bazalgette resignedly. "He does not understand our affection, nor anything else except pounds, shillings and pence."
"Oh, yes I do. I can see through varnished selfishness for one thing."
"You certainly ought to be a judge of the unvarnished article,"
retorted the lady.
"Having had it constantly under my eyes these twenty years," rejoined the gentleman.
"Oh, aunt! Oh, Mr. Bazalgette!" cried Lucy, rising and clasping her hands; if you really love me, never let me be the cause of a misunderstanding, or an angry word between those I esteem; it would make me too miserable; and, dear Mr. Bazalgette, you must let people be happy in their own way, or you will be sure to make them unhappy.
My aunt and I understand one another better than you do."
"She understands you, my poor girl."
"Not so well as I do her. But she knows I hate to be idle, and love to do these bagatelles for her. It is my doing from the first, not hers; she did not even know I could do it till I produced two dresses for the Hunts" ball. So, you see--"
"That is another matter; all ladies play at work. But you are in for _three months" hard labor._ Look at that heap of vanity. She is making a lady"s-maid of you. It is unjust. It is selfish. It is improper. It is not for my credit, of which I am more jealous than coquettes are of theirs; besides, Lucy, you must not think, because I don"t make a parade as she does, that I am not fond of you. I have a great deal more real affection for you than she has, and so you will find if we are ever put to the test."
At this last absurdity Mrs. Bazalgette burst out laughing. But "la rusee sans le savoir" turned toward the speaker, and saw that he spoke with a certain emotion which was not ordinary in him. She instantly went to him with both hands gracefully extended. "I do think you have an affection for me. If you really have, show it me _some other way,_ and not by making me unhappy."
"Well, then, I will, Lucy. Look here; if Solomon was such a fool as to argue with one of you young geese you would shut his mouth in a minute. There, I am going; but you will always be the slave of one selfish person or other; you were born for it."
Thus impotently growling, the merchant prince retired from the field, escorted with amenity by the courtier. In the pa.s.sage she suddenly dropped forward like a cypress-tree, and gave him her forehead to kiss. He kissed it with some little warmth, and confided to her, in friendly accents, that she was a fool, and off he went, grumbling inarticulately, to his foreign loans and things.
The courtier returned to smooth her aunt in turn, but that lady stopped her with a lofty gesture.