4. SANDBOURNE PIER--ROAD TO WYNDWAY--BALL-ROOM IN WYNDWAY HOUSE
The last light of a winter day had gone down behind the houses ofSandbourne, and night was shut close over all. Christopher, about eighto'clock, was standing at the end of the pier with his back towards theopen sea, whence the waves were pushing to the shore in frills and coilsthat were just rendered visible in all their bleak instability by the rowof lights along the sides of the jetty, the rapid motion landward of thewavetips producing upon his eye an apparent progress of the pier out tosea. This pier-head was a spot which Christopher enjoyed visiting onsuch moaning and sighing nights as the present, when the sportive andvariegated throng that haunted the pier on autumn days was no longerthere, and he seemed alone with weather and the invincible sea.
Somebody came towards him along the deserted footway, and rays from thenearest lamp streaked the face of his sister Faith.
'O Christopher, I knew you were here,' she said eagerly. 'You arewanted; there's a servant come from Wyndway House for you. He is sent toask if you can come immediately to play at a little dance they haveresolved upon this evening--quite suddenly it seems. If you can come,you must bring with you any assistant you can lay your hands upon at amoment's notice, he says.'
'Wyndway House; why should the people send for me above all othermusicians in the town?'
Faith did not know. 'If you really decide to go,' she said, as theywalked homeward, 'you might take me as your assistant. I should answerthe purpose, should I not, Kit? since it is only a dance or two they seemto want.'
'And your harp I suppose you mean. Yes; you might be competent to take apart. It cannot be a regular ball; they would have had the quadrilleband for anything of that sort. Faith--we'll go. However, let us seethe man first, and inquire particulars.'
Reaching home, Christopher found at his door a horse and wagonette incharge of a man-servant in livery, who repeated what Faith had told herbrother. Wyndway House was a well-known country-seat three or four milesout of the town, and the coachman mentioned that if they were going itwould be well that they should get ready to start as soon as theyconveniently could, since he had been told to return by ten if possible.Christopher quickly prepared himself, and put a new string or two intoFaith's harp, by which time she also was dressed; and, wrapping upherself and her instrument safe from the night air, away they drove athalf-past nine.
'Is it a large party?' said Christopher, as they whizzed along.
'No, sir; it is what we call a dance--that is, 'tis like a ball, youknow, on a small scale--a ball on a spurt, that you never thought of tillyou had it. In short, it grew out of a talk at dinner, I believe; andsome of the young people present wanted a jig, and didn't care to playthemselves, you know, young ladies being an idle class of society at thebest of times. We've a house full of sleeping company, youunderstand--been there a week some of 'em--most of 'em being mistress'srelations.'
'They probably found it a little dull.'
'Well, yes--it is rather dull for 'em--Christmas-time and all. As soonas it was proposed they were wild for sending post-haste for somebody orother to play to them.'
'Did they name me particularly?' said Christopher.
'Yes; "Mr. Christopher Julian," she says. "The gent who's turned music-man?" I said. "Yes, that's him," says she.'
'There were music-men living nearer to your end of the town than I.'
'Yes, but I know it was you particular: though I don't think mistressthought anything about you at first. Mr. Joyce--that's the butler--saidthat your name was mentioned to our old party, when he was in the room,by a young lady staying with us, and mistress says then, "The Julianshave had a downfall, and the son has taken to music." Then when dancingwas talked of, they said, "O, let's have him by all means."'
'Was the young lady who first inquired for my family the same one whosaid, "Let's have him by all means?"'
'O no; but it was on account of her asking that the rest said they wouldlike you to play--at least that's as I had it from Joyce.'
'Do you know that lady's name?'
'Mrs. Petherwin.'
'Ah!'
'Cold, sir?'
'O no.'
Christopher did not like to question the man any further, though what hehad heard added new life to his previous curiosity; and they drove alongthe way in silence, Faith's figure, wrapped up to the top of her head,cutting into the sky behind them like a sugar-loaf. Such gates ascrossed the roads had been left open by the forethought of the coachman,and, passing the lodge, they proceeded about half-a-mile along a privatedrive, then ascended a rise, and came in view of the front of themansion, punctured with windows that were now mostly lighted up.
'What is that?' said Faith, catching a glimpse of something that thecarriage-lamp showed on the face of one wall as they passed, a marble bas-relief of some battle-piece, built into the stonework.
'That's the scene of the death of one of the squire's forefathers--ColonelSir Martin Jones, who was killed at the moment of victory in the battleof Salamanca--but I haven't been here long enough to know the rights ofit. When I am in one of my meditations, as I wait here with the carriagesometimes, I think how many more get killed at the moment of victory thanat the moment of defeat. This is the entrance for you, sir.' And heturned the corner and pulled up before a side door.
They alighted and went in, Christopher shouldering Faith's harp, and shemarching modestly behind, with curly-eared music-books under her arm.They were shown into the house-steward's room, and ushered thence along abadly-lit passage and past a door within which a hum and laughter wereaudible. The door next to this was then opened for them, and theyentered.
* * * * *
Scarcely had Faith, or Christopher either, ever beheld a more shiningscene than was presented by the saloon in which they now foundthemselves. Coming direct from the gloomy park, and led to the room bythat back passage from the servants' quarter, the light from thechandelier and branches against the walls, striking on gilding at allpoints, quite dazzled their sight for a minute or two; it caused Faith tomove forward with her eyes on the floor, and filled Christopher with animpulse to turn back again into some dusky corner where every thread ofhis not over-new dress suit--rather moth-eaten through lack of feasts forairing it--could be counted less easily.
He was soon seated before a grand piano, and Faith sat down under theshadow of her harp, both being arranged on a dais within an alcove at oneend of the room. A screen of ivy and holly had been constructed acrossthe front of this recess for the games of the children on Christmas Eve,and it still remained there, a small creep-hole being left for entranceand exit.
Then the merry guests tumbled through doors at the further end, anddancing began. The mingling of black-coated men and bright ladies gave acharming appearance to the groups as seen by Faith and her brother, thewhole spectacle deriving an unexpected novelty from the accident ofreaching their eyes through interstices in the tracery of green leaves,which added to the picture a softness that it would not otherwise havepossessed. On the other hand, the musicians, having a much weaker light,could hardly be discerned by the performers in the dance.
The music was now rattling on, and the ladies in their foam-like dresseswere busily threading and spinning about the floor, when Faith, casuallylooking up into her brother's face, was surprised to see that a changehad come over it. At the end of the quadrille he leant across to herbefore she had time to speak, and said quietly, 'She's here!'
'Who?' said Faith, for she had not heard the words of the coachman.
'Ethelberta.'
'Which is she?' asked Faith, peeping through with the keenest interest.
'The one who has the skirts of her dress looped up with convolvulusflowers--the one with her hair fastened in a sort of Venus knot behind;she has just been dancing with that perfumed piece of a man they call Mr.Ladywell--it is he with the high eyebrows arched like a girl's.' Headded, with a wrinkled smile, 'I cannot for my life see anybody answeringto the character o
f husband to her, for every man takes notice of her.'
They were interrupted by another dance being called for, and then, hisfingers tapping about upon the keys as mechanically as fowls pecking atbarleycorns, Christopher gave himself up with a curious and far fromunalloyed pleasure to the occupation of watching Ethelberta, now againcrossing the field of his vision like a returned comet whosecharacteristics were becoming purely historical. She was a plump-armedcreature, with a white round neck as firm as a fort--altogether avigorous shape, as refreshing to the eye as the green leaves throughwhich he beheld her. She danced freely, and with a zest that wasapparently irrespective of partners. He had been waiting long to hearher speak, and when at length her voice did reach his ears, it was therevelation of a strange matter to find how great a thing that small eventhad become to him. He knew the old utterance--rapid but not frequent, anobstructive thought causing sometimes a sudden halt in the midst of astream of words. But the features by which a cool observer would havesingled her out from others in his memory when asking himself what shewas like, was a peculiar gaze into imaginary far-away distance whenmaking a quiet remark to a partner--not with contracted eyes like aseafaring man, but with an open full look--a remark in which little wordsin a low tone were made to express a great deal, as several singlegentlemen afterwards found.
The production of dance-music when the criticizing stage among thedancers has passed, and they have grown full of excitement and animalspirits, does not require much concentration of thought in the producersthereof; and desultory conversation accordingly went on between Faith andher brother from time to time.
'Kit,' she said on one occasion, 'are you looking at the way in which theflowers are fastened to the leaves?--taking a mean advantage of being atthe back of the tapestry? You cannot think how you stare at them.'
'I was looking through them--certainly not at them. I have a feeling ofbeing moved about like a puppet in the hands of a person who legally canbe nothing to me.'
'That charming woman with the shining bunch of hair and convolvuluses?'
'Yes: it is through her that we are brought here, and through her writingthat poem, "Cancelled Words," that the book was sent me, and through theaccidental renewal of acquaintance between us on Anglebury Heath, thatshe wrote the poem. I was, however, at the moment you spoke, thinkingmore particularly of the little teacher whom Ethelberta must havecommissioned to send the book to me; and why that girl was chosen to doit.'
'There may be a hundred reasons. Kit, I have never yet seen her lookonce this way.'
Christopher had certainly not yet received look or gesture from her; buthis time came. It was while he was for a moment outside the recess, andhe caught her in the act. She became slightly confused, turned aside,and entered into conversation with a neighbour.
It was only a look, and yet what a look it was! One may say of a lookthat it is capable of division into as many species, genera, orders, andclasses, as the animal world itself. Christopher saw EthelbertaPetherwin's performance in this kind--the well-known spark of light uponthe well-known depths of mystery--and felt something going out of himwhich had gone out of him once before.
Thus continually beholding her and her companions in the giddy whirl, thenight wore on with the musicians, last dances and more last dances beingadded, till the intentions of the old on the matter were thrice exceededin the interests of the young. Watching the couples whirl and turn,advance and recede as gently as spirits, knot themselves like house-fliesand part again, and lullabied by the faint regular beat of theirfootsteps to the tune, the players sank into the peculiar mesmeric quietwhich comes over impressionable people who play for a great length oftime in the midst of such scenes; and at last the only noises thatChristopher took cognizance of were those of the exceptional kind,breaking above the general sea of sound--a casual smart rustle of silk, alaugh, a stumble, the monosyllabic talk of those who happened to lingerfor a moment close to the leafy screen--all coming to his ears likevoices from those old times when he had mingled in similar scenes, not asservant but as guest.