"Didn"t I meet him at Chirke Weston, Margaret?" asked Harriet.
"I think you did," replied Margaret.
"Ay! you were too young then, or else it was really much neglect on your part--staying in the very house," said Harriet. "You will have it all to begin again."
This was very pleasant, certainly, to have two kind friends planning to throw Margaret and Mr. Haveloc together as much as possible.
Margaret faintly entreated that Harriet would make no matches for her; that she preferred remaining single, and, that strange as the fancy was, she begged to be indulged in it.
"But about Mr. Haveloc," said Lady Raymond, drawing her chair close into the window. "As Mrs. Fitzpatrick is up stairs, I will tell you such a romantic story about him. You know Mrs. Fitzpatrick had a very lovely daughter. Well; Mr. Haveloc was devotedly attached to her; it was all settled--they were going to be married, when she fell into a rapid decline, and died. Raymond saw him there, and said--" Here Lady Raymond expressed Lord Raymond"s sayings by lifting up her hands and eyes, and dropping them both together; "and I think that it was which made Mr.
Haveloc rather religious."
"Is he religious?" asked Harriet, pulling the leaves carelessly from a geranium.
"Oh, I think so!" returned Lady Raymond, "he has been building schools on his estate; and is wild now about repairing a church--to be sure it is the family church, where all the old monuments are--the Crusaders, and even the Danish sea-king, they say. Harriet, remind me that we take Miss Capel to see the church at Tynebrook to-morrow, if it is fine. He has been laying down a tessellated pavement, and putting in stained-gla.s.s windows, and such an altar cloth! I am told there was never anything so beautiful; but I have not been yet, because it is a bad carriage road, except in summer."
"Well, what an odd fancy," said Harriet, winding her riding whip round her fingers. "I always thought he was a moonshiny sort of a person. I suppose he was engrossed by Miss Fitzpatrick when I saw him. You know people gave him to Bessy about that time."
"So I remember; it was the first thing almost that I heard of him," said Margaret.
"Shall we dress, pet?" asked Harriet, fondly pa.s.sing her arm round Margaret"s waist; "we can come down and have a gossip before the people collect for dinner."
Margaret a.s.sented, and Harriet left the room with Lady Raymond.
Margaret stood for a few minutes leaning against the window, trying to compose herself, or to appear composed. "Shall I never be wise or womanly?" she asked herself, "shall I never bear to hear his name mentioned without such a pang as I now feel? Is this, as one sometimes reads, to embitter my whole life--this wretched mistake? It is too severe a penalty for my folly! How can I meet him calmly, if I am thus agitated by the very narrative of circ.u.mstances that I have long known, and long made up my mind to forget?"
But as thinking did not seem likely to make matters better, Margaret roused herself, and went up stairs to dress. She was quite startled to find Mrs. Fitzpatrick in her room, in her black velvet, ready for dinner.
"I am late--am I not?" said she, coming up to her chair, and taking her hand.
"Not early, my dear, but you will find time enough, you are always so rapid."
Mason set to work directly; Mrs. Fitzpatrick sat beside the toilet, talking.
At last, Margaret, who had scarcely replied, turned her head round, and said, "How long do we stay here?"
"How long, my dear? Why, we have but just arrived," said her friend with a smile.
"True," said Margaret, "there is no reason; only I do not feel very well."
"The journey, perhaps," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, kindly, "we must see what a night"s rest will do for you; but do not talk of going away, for I have made up my mind that you enjoy yourself very much."
Margaret smiled sadly, and accompanied her friend into the drawing-room.
It was already lighted up, and the scented air of the warm summer evening, struggled in through the closed curtains. The guests were standing and sitting in groups, talking and laughing. Lord Raymond on the hearth-rug.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick and Margaret were presented to him, and he received them with kindness.
"You remember Miss Capel, at Chirke Weston, my dear, don"t you," said Lucy.
Lord Raymond did not--but he said he did, and asked her, "if she left all her friends well in that part of the world."
Harriet came close to Lord Raymond, and whispered something in his ear, which made him laugh; and then seizing hold of Margaret, she exclaimed to some one reclining almost at full length in an easy chair: "Everard--wake up! this is Miss Capel!"
Margaret blushed crimson; the person addressed, who appeared to be in the last stage of exhaustion, forced himself into a sitting posture, smiled favourably on Margaret without speaking, stared; and sank back again.
"What a wretch he is," said Harriet, standing quite close to him while she made her remarks, "does he not look like a great wax doll, perfectly well dressed. He ought to be tired, because he came a good many miles by railroad to-day, and as much as seven or eight more in a post-chaise from the terminus. Miss Capel has travelled farther than you to-day, Everard."
"Ah!" said the person appealed to. At that moment, he was directed to take Miss Capel to dinner, which great exertion he underwent. Harriet, on the other side, allowed him but little peace. She contrived to make the most provoking demands on his memory and his descriptive powers, neither of which were particularly vivid. She would ask how far it was from Halifax to Quebec? What the falls of Niagara looked like? How many miles an hour one could go in a sledge? All these questions were easily despatched by the words: I don"t know--I can"t tell--I forget. And then a slight pause, while Harriet ate her dinner; but as she ate little, and talked much, her attacks soon began again.
"I say, Everard, are the ladies pretty over in Canada?"
"Some of them."
"But now, answer me on your word of honour, have they not red noses?"
A laugh.
"How do you think George is looking?"
"Oh! very well."
"What a touching thing it was to see you two meet."
"Did you think so?"
"Margaret, just fancy two brothers who had not seen each other for three years, George comes into the room with his mouth full of something about my chestnut, and seeing Everard in the arm-chair, asleep, says: "Ah!
Everard, you there!" Upon which my friend to the right, answers: "Eh!
George how are you?" I shed tears. Two horses, I need not say, would have been more affectionate."
"I am sure I kissed _you_," said Everard, anxious to defend himself.
There was a general laugh.
"Of course," said Harriet, quickly recovering from her confusion, "very proper to a sister. Lord James, I shall call you to order."
Lord James, who looked as bold as his wife, which was saying a great deal for him, was stopped in the act of launching some witticism on the public, and contented himself with laughing longer and louder than any body else.
"How do you like Everard? Don"t you think him very handsome?" inquired Harriet as soon as the ladies left the dining-room, "he is considered the best looking of the Gages."
Margaret smiled at Harriet"s eagerness to provide for her, but begged again with genuine earnestness to be left to her fate.
Lady James Deacon came up to them, was named to Margaret, and became gracious in her manner. She showed her a new species of knitting, and on Mrs. Fitzpatrick standing by to learn it, she transferred her instructions to her with great good humour. She rallied Harriet, in the pauses, upon her handsome brother-in-law, and alluded to some other conquest, which she had heard Mrs. Gage had made in Dublin.
Margaret felt and looked pained; she disliked all jests upon what she could not help considering as sacred subjects; and she thought a wife"s vows too important to become the object of such light discourse. She looked uneasily at Harriet, who stood laughing at all Lady James chose to say, or hint. Mrs. Gage saw this in a moment, and with her usual abruptness, she drew Margaret out upon the terrace.
"Look you, little Oracle," said she, "I am not used to do anything by halves; I love my husband a great deal more than he deserves; but I am not going to pull long faces every time a woman of that sort makes a jest upon me. She could not understand me if I did. She has no delicacy herself, and does not know when to give other people credit for it. So now come back, and see what you can make of Everard. Captain Gage gives them all a very liberal allowance."