No. Mary could not look at her and say so, for a very good reason. She had not the most distant idea what Chrysophrasia was talking about. On general principles, she had made a remark about being charitable, and was now held to account for it. She smiled timidly, as though to deprecate her sister"s vengeance.
"Mary," said Chrysophrasia, in a tone of sorrowful rebuke, "I am afraid you are not listening to me."
"Indeed I am," said Mrs. Carvel, patiently.
"Well, then, Mary, I say it is a hollow sham, and that it cannot go on any longer."
"Yes, my dear," a.s.sented her sister. "I have no doubt you are right; but what were you referring to as a hollow sham?"
"You are hopeless, Mary,--you have no intuitions. Of course I mean Paul."
Even this was not perfectly clear, and Mrs. Carvel looked inquiringly at her sister.
"Is it possible you do not understand?" asked Chrysophrasia. "Do you propose to allow my niece--my niece, Mary, and your daughter," she repeated with awful emphasis--"to fall in love with her own cousin?"
"I am sure the dear child would never think of such a thing," answered Mary Carvel, very gently, and as though not wishing to contradict her sister. "He has not been here twenty-four hours."
"The dear child is thinking of it at this very moment," said Chrysophrasia. "And what is more, Paul has come here with the deliberate intention of marrying her. I have seen it from the first moment he entered the house. I can see it in his eyes."
"Well, my dear, you may be right. But I have not noticed anything of the sort, and I think you go too far. You will jump at conclusions, Chrysophrasia."
"If I went at them at all, Mary, I would glide,--I certainly would not jump," replied the aesthetic lady, with a languid smile. Mrs. Carvel looked wearily out of the window. "Besides," continued Chrysophrasia, "the thing is quite impossible. Paul is not at all a match. Hermy will be very rich, some day. John will not leave everything to Macaulay: I have heard him say so."
"Why do you discuss the matter, Chrysophrasia?" objected Mrs. Carvel, with a little shade of very mild impatience. "There is no question of Hermy marrying Paul."
"Then Paul ought to go away at once."
"We cannot send him away. Besides, I think he is a very good fellow. You forget that poor Annie is in the house, and he has a right to see her, at least for a week."
"It seems to me that Annie might go and live with him."
"He has no home, poor fellow,--he is in the diplomatic service. He is made to fly from Constantinople to Persia, and from Persia to St.
Petersburg; how could he take poor Annie with him?"
"If poor Annie chose," said Chrysophrasia, sniffing the air with a disagreeable expression, "poor Annie could go. If she has sense enough to dress herself gorgeously and to read dry books all day, she has sense enough to travel."
"Oh, Chrysophrasia! How dreadfully unkind you are! You know how--ill she is."
Mrs. Carvel did not like to p.r.o.nounce the word "insane." She always spoke of Madame Patoff"s "illness."
"I do not believe it," returned Miss Dabstreak. "She is no more crazy than I am. I believe Professor Cutter knows it, too. Only he has been used to saying that she is mad for so long that he will not believe his senses, for fear of contradicting himself."
"In any case I would rather trust to him than to my own judgment."
"I would not. I am utterly sick of this perpetual disturbance about Annie"s state of mind. It destroys the charm of a peaceful existence. If I had the strength, I would go to her and tell her that I know she is perfectly sane, and that she must leave the house. John is so silly about her. He turns the place into an asylum, just because she chooses to hold her tongue."
Mrs. Carvel rose with great dignity.
"I will leave you, Chrysophrasia," she said. "I cannot bear to hear you talk in this way. You really ought to be more charitable."
"You are angry, Mary," replied her sister. "Good-by. I cannot bear the strain of arguing with you. When you are calmer you will remember what I have said."
Poor Mrs. Carvel certainly exhibited none of the ordinary symptoms of anger, as she quietly left the room, with an expression of pain upon her gentle face. When Chrysophrasia was very unreasonable her only course was to go away; for she was wholly unable to give a rough answer, or to defend herself against her sister"s attacks. Mary went in search of her husband, and was glad to find him in the library, among his books.
"John dear, may I come in?" asked Mrs. Carvel, opening the door of her husband"s library, and standing on the threshold.
"By all means," exclaimed John, looking up. "Anything wrong?" he inquired, observing the expression of his wife"s face.
"John," said Mrs. Carvel, coming near to him and laying her hand gently on his shoulder, "tell me--do you think there is likely to be anything between Paul and Hermy?"
"Gracious goodness! what put that into your head?" asked Carvel.
"I have been with Chrysophrasia"--began Mary.
"Chrysophrasia! Oh! Is that it?" cried John in discontented tones. "I wish Chrysophrasia would mind her own business, and not talk nonsense!"
"It is nonsense, is it not?"
"Of course,--absolute rubbish! I would not hear of it, to begin with!"
he exclaimed, as though that were sufficient evidence that the thing was impossible.
"No, indeed," echoed Mrs. Carvel, but in more doubtful tones. "Of course, Paul is a very good fellow. But yet"---- She hesitated. "After all, they are cousins," she added suddenly, "and that is a great objection."
"I hope you will not think seriously of any such marriage, Mary," said John Carvel, with great decision. "They are cousins, and there are twenty other reasons why they should not marry."
"Are there? I dare say you are right, and of course there is no probability of either of them thinking of such a thing. But after all, Paul is a very marriageable fellow, John."
"I would not consent to his marrying my daughter, though," returned Carvel. "I have no doubt it is all right about his brother, who disappeared on a dark night in Constantinople. But I would not let Hermy marry anybody who had such a story connected with his name."
"Surely, John, you are not so unkind as to give any weight to that spiteful accusation. It was very dreadful, but there never was the slightest ground for believing that Paul had a hand in it. Even Professor Cutter, who does not like him, always said so. That was one of the princ.i.p.al proofs of poor Annie"s madness."
"I know, my dear. But to the end of time people will go on asking where Paul"s brother is, and will look suspicious when he is mentioned.
Cutter, whom you quote, says the same thing, though he believes Paul perfectly innocent, as I do myself. Do you suppose I would have a man in the house whom I suspected of having murdered his brother?"
"What a dreadful idea!" exclaimed Mrs. Carvel. "But if you liked him very much, and wanted him to marry Hermy, would you let that silly bit of gossip stand in the way of the match?"
"I don"t know what I should do. Perhaps not. But Hermy shall marry whom she pleases, provided she marries a gentleman. She has no more idea of marrying Paul than Chrysophrasia has, or than Paul has of marrying her.
Besides, she is far too young to think of such things."
"Really, John, Hermy is nineteen. She is nearly twenty."
"My dear," retorted Carvel, "you will make me think you want them to marry."
"Nonsense, John!"
"Well, nonsense, if you like. But Chrysophrasia has been putting this ridiculous notion into your head. I believe she is in love with Paul herself."
"Oh, John!" exclaimed Mrs. Carvel, smiling at the idea.