CHAPTER XXV.
DON GIOVANNI.
'Towered cities please us then, And the busy hum of men. * * * * * * * * * And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs. * * * * * * * * * With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running.' _Milton._
The Monday brought business instead of sentiment. Not only was thePursuivant to be provided for, but Felix had on his mind the year'saccounts. No one had ever had Froggatt and Underwood's Christmas billlater than the second week in January--and no one should. Besides,he was very anxious to balance his books this critical year, and wasunwilling to employ a professional accountant for what, as far as headwent, he could do perfectly well. His willing helpers began to perceivewhat they had never realized before--his practised power of quicknessand accuracy. The Pursuivant was quite work enough for Cherry, even ifshe could have borne the strain of application to accounts; Lancelotwas needed in the shop; and Wilmet and Clement found themselves whirledon beyond their power of speed. Robina proved the most efficienthelper; for arithmetic had been so well taught by Miss Fennimore,that she understood with less trouble to herself and Felix than anyof the rest. They laughed to find that five had been about what heusually did singly; and that he had all the time been the main-springof them all--referee to Lance and Cherry, arranging for the othersin pencil with his left hand, breaking off to direct one, verify foranother, explain to the third, and often distracting them by whistlingto Theodore, amusing Stella, or gossiping with Edgar--all with easeand without hurry, as if it came naturally to him. 'Julius Caesar wasnothing to him!' laughed Geraldine, as she perceived the ability andpower that she had never ascribed to him before, because he had notEdgar's brilliance. As to Edgar, though he had been trained for amerchant's clerk, he professed to have forgotten all his training:he would only proffer help to the editorial business, and there putout Cherry's arrangements more than he helped her; and finding everyone much too busy to loiter, he took his departure early on Tuesdaymorning, leaving an unsatisfactory sense that he had not been comfortednor made welcome enough--a sense of regret and yet of relief.
The result of the balance was that the Pursuivant was a less profitableinvestment than hitherto, but by no means a loss; while the Tribuneseemed to have reached a present level of circulation, where itmight rest till some further excitement. There would henceforth bea hand-to-hand struggle; but the Pursuivant still held its own. Andas to the private budget, the household _had_ pulled through withoutexceeding their income, when all the demands of the year were answered.Moreover, Fulbert had been appointed to a well-paid office, and hadsent home twenty-five pounds, begging that Lance might have thepreference in the disposal; and the whole family were very proud ofthis, the first substantial help that had been sent in by any of thebrothers--Lance proudest of all, perhaps, though he declared that itwas no good to him, and begged that it might clear Bernard's first year.
Lance had said nothing all this time of Edgar's invitations, and noone was sure whether that unscrupulous person had made them to him inperson or not, till one dismal foggy afternoon at the end of the week.Felix, though still helpless as to his hand and arm, had resumed hisplace down-stairs; and Cherry was sitting in the window, to get lightto pursue her work of unpicking a dove-coloured French merino dress, alegacy of Alda's, which was to be dyed and made up again for Angela. Itwas a business that she disliked--it always seemed to bring the senseof grinding to her mind--and this particular dress seemed to carry inevery fold the remembrance of some jar between the wearer and herself;nor was she exhilarated by the accompaniment, for Robina was dutifullypuzzling out on the worn old piano a long difficult sonatina--a sort ofholiday task, which lay heavy on the child's mind, and seemed to Cherrya mere labyrinth of confused sounds. The dull day, the dull work, andweary clash up to the place where Robina never failed to stumble, andthen go back to the beginning with no better success, wore Cherry'sspirits. She began to feel as if this were like her life--all mist, alltoil, all din, everything fair and lovely closed up from her, nothingleft but the yearning knowledge that it existed, and that everybodycould enjoy it except herself--she, who felt such capacity for makingthe most of it. The sense of imprisoned tedium grew so strong at last,that she was ready to cry out to stop the only thing she could stop,when she was sensible that a very different hand was on the keys--noconfused or uncertain touch, but the harmony was being read off, andthe stammering spelling work was exchanged for clear, true, feelingdiscourse. She needed not to look round to know that Lance was standingbehind Robina; but presently he came to a dull discordant note, andbroke off with a growl of disgust, 'What, another gone!'
'Didn't you know that?'
'No; I can't bear to touch the wretched old thing, it makes me sick!'
'I wish we could learn to tune it.'
'Poulter did show me once, but it's no good. It is just as makeshiftand disgusting as all the rest of it!'
'You've got a head-ache, Lance.'
'No, I haven't. Felix has been at me, too.'
'What! he sent you up?'
'Ay;' and as Robina sat down on a low stool, he threw himself on thefloor, with his head on her lap, delivering himself of a howling yawn.
'Why did he send you up?' as she stroked his hair back from his temples.
'Oh, it has been an intolerable bother! All the samples ofwriting-paper have somehow been and gone and got into the wrongdrawers, and Mr. Underwood has been in no end of a state of mind--quiteferocious; and Lamb and I have been sorting and struggling to get 'emright, till at last I didn't know fancy pink from widow's deepestaffliction; and Felix, by way of the most cutting thing he could do tome, orders me up-stairs!'
'I am so sorry! It must have been Lamb's doing.'
'No: he's much too sober-sided. It was mine, I'm sure, one day when Iwas hating it all a little worse than usual.'
'Hating it all! O Lance! I thought you got on so well!'
'A nice sort of getting on! I know when it was. There were those twoMiss Bayneses--out at Upham--came in with some fad about note-paper,made a monstrous fuss; but they are very pretty--something like thatgirl at Stoneborough. So I wrote up to Scott's--took no end of trouble.Scott had to cut it on purpose--wouldn't do less than a ream--and afterall, when it came down, my young ladies just take one quire of it,turn everything over again, never say one word of thanks, but standchattering away to an ape of a cousin that came in with them. I was insuch a wax, that I believe I jumbled up the paper when they'd gone,and tumbled it all over again; and it has never got the better of it,though I always meant to set it to rights.'
'Well, I think it served you right, if you only did it because theywere pretty!'
'It wasn't altogether that; but I knew they would say nothing was to behad when Mr. Underwood wasn't there. That's the way of it; one's just abit of a machine for getting things!'
'You knew that before, when you took the work.'
'Yes; but somehow I did not know it would be so disgusting. I don'tsuppose that girl at Stoneborough would look at me over the counternow. No, and I don't know that she ought, either; only people mighthave a civil "Thank you" to throw at one. I'm an ass, that's all! Onlyone hates having no one to speak to!'
'It is different from the Harewoods.'
'Don't talk about that!'
'But, Lance, I thought you liked it all. You said you did when I camehome; and when Felix was laid up, you were everything, and did so well.I thought you would have been pleased.'
'Yes; I saw the whole stupidity and botheration of the thing. It hasgot to be work instead of play--I suppose that's it.'
'But, Lance, does it follow that you must go on with it all your life,because you are helping Felix through this winter?'
'While the accounts look like this, I don't see how he is to pay astuck-up shopman. No, it is all stuff and nonsense! I didn't thinkEdgar's talk would have upset me like this.'
'What? his talk about operas,
and concerts, and pictures--?'
'And the spirit and the fun that are always going there. That mustbe life! One's eyes and ears do seem given one for something there!Do you know Bob, he wants me to come up and live with him, and get anengagement as a pianist, and learn the violin?'
'O, Lance! but Felix and Wilmet would never consent!'
'No, and they didn't ought to. No, I could never,' and he spoke low,but Cherry heard his clear voice distinctly, 'give the stage what wastaught me for that other purpose. If I can't be what I want, I must dothis common work for my living, and not make a market of my music. Ican _give_ that freely to the Church--that is if I ever get my voiceagain.'
'That's right, dear Lancey,' said Robina, looking down at the face onher knees; 'you could not really like that odd life Edgar leads.'
'Like it? Much you know about it, Bob. It does make everything elseseem as dull as ditch-water!'
'Not always.'
'Not when I can get it out of my head. Only I do wish things wouldn'tbe so stupid here. It's just like a horse in a mill seeing a finethorough-bred come and kick up his heels at him in a meadow. I say,Bob, let's go and get a turn at the organ--you can blow for me; it willget the maggots out of my brain best.'
'Oh yes, dear Lance, only--'
'Only what?'
'If you didn't much mind those horrible notes, could you just show methe sense of that thing? I must learn before I go back to school; andAngel hates it so, I did it when she was out.'
Lance made an ineffable grimace; but having undertaken to actmusic-master, he first played the piece as exquisitely as the crackedpiano would allow, and then scolded poor Robin within an inch of herlife at every blunder, for her utter lack of taste, vituperating thestupidity of those who threw good music away upon her.
She took it all as an honour and a kindness, though she cried outfor a respite long before she had come up to his rather unreasonablerequirements; and reminding him that it would soon be too dark for hisdesigns on the church organ, she went to get ready; and the two werenot seen again till after dark, when the patient Robina came in verycold, but there was a bright peacefulness on Lance's face, as if he hadplayed away his repinings.
Felix explained the having sent him away by saying that the strain ofthe days when he had been in charge had told on him, for he had grownso confused and distressed in the endeavour to remedy the mistakes thathad been made, that it had been needful for every reason to send himaway from the scene of action. No doubt the responsibility, and theresistance to Edgar's invitations had been a considerable pressure onhis mind; but whatever his longings might be, he said no more aboutthem, and continued to be the sunshine of the house--so bright, frank,and open that no one would have guessed at the deep reserves within.
It was about a month later that one evening he darted into the room,exclaiming, 'I _say_, who do you think is here? Why, Renville, Edgar'sboss!'
'Nothing the matter, I hope?' cried Cherry.
'Oh no, nothing; only Tom Underwood has sent him down to see about somepicture at Centry, and so he dropped in, and Felix has asked him tospend the evening.'
'The evening!' Wilmet started up.
'Hark! there they are on the stairs!'
The introduction was deferred, for Felix shut him into Mr. Froggatt'sroom, and then came himself to say, 'I couldn't but ask him; I hope itis not _very_ troublesome?'
'N--no--oh, no,' said Wilmet 'Only--Lance, should you mind just runningdown to Prothero's to get some rashers; and let me see--eggs, if he hasany he can recommend, and not above sixpence for seven?'
'Little Lightfoot is there,' said Felix, who even in his shoe-cleaningdays would not have liked such a commission.
'He has no sense,' returned Wilmet; 'and I can't spare one of themaids. You don't mind, Lance?'
'Not a whistle. Only how is my sense to act, if Prothero's consciencewon't warrant his eggs?'
Wilmet's answer was lost in the clank of coppers, as she left the roomwith her willing _aide-de-camp_, and neither of them was seen again forthe next half hour, during which time Felix had introduced the neatdapper little Mr. Renville to his sister Geraldine and little Stella;and a conversation had begun which entertained Cherry extremely--itwas so like a breath from that wonderful world of art in which Edgarlived; and meantime the painter's quick eye was evidently taking stockof the drawings on the walls, and feasting on little Stella's childishbeauty, though he was too polite to make remarks. There had been onlyjust time for Felix and Cherry to look at each other, wondering whattheir house-keeper designed, when the door between the rooms was openedby Lance, with a face as red as a boiled lobster: and behind thetea-tray appeared Wilmet's head, likewise considerable heightened incomplexion, though not so unbecomingly. Nor had they roasted themselvesfor nothing. Lance looked and winked with conscious pride at thepoached eggs, frizzled contorted rashers, and crisp toast, wherein hehad had his share of glory; and Wilmet's pile of scones in their snowynapkin divided the honours of the feast with the rissoles, previouslyprovided for the brothers, who since Felix's health had become matterof thought, had come to make their principal meal in the leisure of theevening, when that notable housewife of theirs could provide for them.
Certainly, Mr. Renville's own Nuremburg haus-frau could not have turnedout a neater little impromptu supper than Wilmet had done; though shehad decidedly objected to Lance's concealment of the uncouth forms ofthe butter with fern-leaves from the garden, and had flatly refused tolet him station either a pot of jonquils or a glass of snowdrops in themiddle of the table. 'Eating, was eating, and flowers were flowers,'she said; which sentiment somehow tickled Lance so much, that chokingadded to the redness of his visage, as, while buttering the muffins, hetried to exercise some sculpture on the ill-shaped lump.
To a Londoner, however, all country fare was fresh, pure, anddelicious, more especially when dispensed by one who, for allher disdain of the poetry of life, could not but be in herself asatisfaction to the artist's eye. He could not help a little startof amazement; and as he paused while Cherry made her slow way intothe other room, he could not refrain from whispering to Felix thathe had always thought the portraits Edgar brought from home a littletoo ideal, but that he perceived that they did not do justice to thereality; and Felix, with a little curl of his mouth, and rub of hishands, asked whether Mr. Renville had seen his other twin sister. 'Yes;she was extremely handsome, but somehow her style did not explain thatclassical beauty in the same manner.'
To look at Wilmet and Stella, and to talk to Felix and Geraldine, wasno despicable pleasure. Felix's powers of conversation were a good dealcultivated by the clients of the reading-room, who had always gossipedwith Mr. Froggatt as now with him; and Geraldine had native wit andliveliness, that were sure to flash out whenever the first chill ofshyness was taken off, as it easily was when her brother was there totake the lead.
But Cherry was not prepared for that proposal of Felix's that sheshould show her drawings to the guest. Poor man, he must be so muchused to the sight of young-lady drawings; and of late Cherry had beenin the depths of despair about hers, with all their defects, thatshe knew not how to remedy, glaring full upon her. She would haveprotested, but Lance had handed out the portfolio; and fluttering,nervous, eager, she must conquer her silly sense of being 'all in atwitter.'
Those two or three fanciful groups--his 'Ah, very pretty!' was justcourteous and almost weary. But then came an endeavour to produceLance as the faithful little acolyte in the Silver Store. Mr. Renvillelooked at that much more attentively, smiled as he nodded at hermodel, and praised the accuracy of the drawing of the hand. From thatmoment his manner of looking was altogether different. He criticisedso hard that Wilmet was in pain, and thought poor Cherry would beannihilated; but Cherry, on the other hand, was drinking in every word,asking questions, explaining difficulties, and Mr. Renville evidentlyextremely interested, seeing and hearing nothing but the sketches andthe lame girl.
'Who had been her teacher?'
'Edgar.'
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p; 'No one else? Only your brother?' in great surprise. 'I don't know whenI have seen such accuracy even in the school of art.'
'Edgar is so particular about that.'
'Well, if I could only get him to learn his own lesson!'
'I have so little to copy,' said Cherry. 'I have nothing to distractme.'
It was little enough; a few second-hand studies of his; a cast thatFelix had given her off an Italian boy's board, which came opportunelyon her birthday; and her living models when she could catch them,generally surreptitiously. But upon her small materials she had workedperseveringly, going back to the same subject whenever she gained anew light, profiting by every hint, till the result was an evidentamazement to the artist; and as he emphatically said, pointing to anoutline caught from John Harewood as he was reading last summer, 'Thisis not talent, it is genius! You ought to give yourself advantages,Miss Underwood.'
Cherry smiled rather sadly. 'It is quite enough that Edgar should havethem,' she said.
'Ah! if he would only take half the pains with his drawing that heseems to have inculcated upon you!'
It was a disappointment. She had much rather have heard Edgar's geniuspraised than her own, which, be it what it might, she had come tobelieve must, for want of cultivation, be limited to the supply ofChristmas cards and unsatisfactory illuminations.
But when the sisters had gone to bed, Mr. Renville had much more tosay. He had sought Felix out a good deal for the purpose of talkingover Edgar, He said that the young man's talent was of a graceful,fantastic, ingenious description, such as with application would beavailable for prosperity if not for eminence; but application Edgarhad never perseveringly given, since he had first found himselfsurpassed in the higher efforts of art. His powers were too versatilefor his own good, and he dabbled in everything that was _not_his proper occupation--concerts, amateur theatricals, periodicalliterature and journalism, comic sketches. His doings were not allwholly unremunerative; but though he viewed them as mines of wealth,they were really lures into a shifty uncertain life, and distractionsfrom steady consistent labour. His fine voice, his brilliant wit, andengaging manner, made him a star in the lively society on the outskirtsof art; and he was expensive, careless, and irregular in his hours toa degree that sorely tried the good man, a precisian in his domesticcustoms. He and his little German wife, however, loved the lad, aseverybody did love him who came under the influence of his sunshinygrace and sweetness of temper--the unselfish manner inherited from onewhose unselfishness was real; and used as they were to the freedom ofartist life, their allowances were liberal; but of late there had beena recklessness and want of purpose about his ways which both grievedand alarmed them: he was more unsettled than ever, seemed to have lostall interest in his studies at the Academy, was getting into a set thathad degenerated from permissible eccentricity into something very likelawlessness, and even while an undesirable inmate, had vexed his kindfriend and master by proposing to remove from under his roof, and setup with a chosen comrade of his own.
Committed to his charge, as Edgar Underwood had been by the elderbrother, the kind little artist felt it his duty not to let him gowithout an intimation to his family, though well aware that a fathercould have little control in such a case, how much less a brother onlyby two years the elder?
All that Felix could hope was, that since this state of drearyrecklessness was so evidently the effect of disappointment, it mightpass with the force of the shock. He himself had experiences of theirksomeness of the dull round of ordinary occupation when the heartwas rent by a sudden shock; and though he had forced himself on underthe load that had so nearly crushed him, he could perfectly understandthe less chastened, more impetuous nature, under less pressure ofnecessity, breaking into aberrations under a far more astounding blowof desertion. So he hoped. But what could he do? He knew but too wellthe cool manner in which Edgar turned over his remonstrances as thoseof the would-be heavy father. He could only thank Mr. Renville, promiseto write to Edgar, and entreat him not to remove from the roof whichwas so great a safeguard against the worst forms of temptation, advisehim perhaps to study abroad for a time to pacify the restlessness ofhis disappointment--at any rate, if he could do nothing else, not letthe brother whom he still loved best of all drift away without feelingthat there were those who grieved and strove for him.
It was not only of Edgar that Mr. Renville spoke, however. He wasso much impressed with Geraldine's drawings, that he argued thatshe should have a quarter's study in the South Kensington Museum,undertaking, as one of the masters, to facilitate her coming and going,so that she should not be involved in any scrambles, and declaringthat she only needed a few opportunities of study to render her talentreally excellent and profitable.
Felix declared her going to be simply impossible; but either Mr.Renville or Edgar did not let the matter rest there, for a warminvitation arrived from the family in Kensington Palace Gardens,backed by many promises of tender care from Marilda. It seemed tobe absolutely throwing away opportunities for Cherry to refuse toavail herself of such an opening; and though she was in exceedingtrepidation, she had enough of the sacred fire to long to perfect herart, justified by the wish to render it substantially beneficial. Andthen Felix could not help thinking that the presence of his favouritesister might be a wholesome check to Edgar in one direction, andincentive in another, at this critical time, and this was no smallweight in his balance. While Cherry, on the one hand, dreaded goingout into the world with the nervous dismay of an invalid, who hadnever been anywhere but to St. Faith's; and on the other, felt thisopportunity for herself almost an injustice to Lance, with all hisyearnings.
She was to go immediately after Easter; and whether by Edgar'ssuggestion or not, Marilda imperiously begged that Lance might bringher up to London, and stay as long as he could be spared. It wasimpossible to give him longer than from Saturday till the last trainon Monday, for Felix had reporting business on hand, and must be outon Tuesday, and did not perhaps regret that things had so settledthemselves.
Lance's overflowing enjoyment somewhat solaced Geraldine's alarm onthe way up; he was so careful of her, and so proud of the charge; andafter his wistful glance at Minsterham, the novelty was so delightfulto him. His journey with John Harewood reckoned for nothing, for he hadthen been far too unwell to look about, and it had besides been on adifferent line; but now everything was wonderful, and his exclamationsalmost embarrassed Cherry, she thought they must so astonish theirfellow-travellers. Even the hideousness of the suburbs seemed tofascinate him--there was something in the sense of the multitude thatfilled him with excitement. 'It is getting to the heart, Cherry,' hesaid, 'where the circulation is quickest.'
'Into the world--the vortex, I should call it,' returned Cherrythinking of drops being attracted by the eddy, and sucked into thewhirlpool; but Lance was gone wild at the glimpse of a huge gasometer,and did not heed.
Edgar's dainty beard and moustache were the first things that met theireyes upon the platform; his strong arms helped Cherry out, and in awonderfully short time seated her beside Alda in a great luxuriouscarriage.
To her disappointment, however, the two back seats remained vacant.
'No, no,' said Edgar, his white teeth gleaming in a smile; 'we mustmake the most of our time, Lancey boy. What do you say to walking byWestminster--then we'll get something to eat--and you shall know whatDon Giovanni is like before you are many hours older, my boy?'
Cherry's last view of Lance was with a look of dancing ecstasy all overhis person.
'Don Giovanni is the opera, isn't it?' she said in bewilderment.
'Of course; what did you think?'
'But I thought that was dreadfully dear.'
'Oh! Edgar can always get tickets for anything. You must not bring outWilmet's frugalities here, Cherry. Dear old Wilmet, how does she bearthis long waiting?'
Alda was really interested in home tidings, and pleased to point outmatters of interest, so that Cherry was fairly happy, till the awe ofthe great handsome house, al
one in its gravelled garden, fell on her.
But when once up the stately stone steps, she was kindly, solicitously,welcomed by Marilda and her mother. The reception-rooms (as Mrs.Underwood called them) were all on the ground floor; and Cherry hadonly to mount one easy flight of broad steps to reach the formerschool-room, with two little bed-rooms opening into it--one assigned toher, the other to Marilda's old nurse, who had been kept on with littleor nothing to do, and was delighted to devote herself to the lame younglady.
She took charge of Geraldine's toilette for the late dinner, sotremendous to the imagination used to the little back-room at home,but which turned out after all more tedious than formidable. In truth,Cherry was very tired, and Alda quite kindly advised her to go to bed.She wanted to sit up and wait for her brothers, but was laughed at, andfinally was deposited in her very pretty pink bed, where, however, thestrangeness of all things allowed her very little sleep. Quiet as theplace was, she thought something seemed to be going on all night; andat some semi-light hour in the morning she bounded up as if at a shot,for there really was a step, and a knock, and her door opening.
'Cherry, are you awake?'
'O Lance! what is the matter?'
'Matter! nothing--only I'm going out to look about me, and I thoughtI'd leave word with you and see how you were.'
'Out! Why, didn't I hear the clock strike five?'
'Ay. Have you been awake?'
'A good deal. Have you?'
'As if anybody could sleep after that! I've gone it all over and over.I see there's a piano in this outer room. I'll just show you.'
'O Lance!--_now_--and Sunday!'
'I forgot. But it is so awful, Cherry: it made one feel more than ahundred sermons;' and the far-away look came into his eyes; as inrapid words he sketched the story, described the scenes, dwelt withpassionate fervour on the music, all with an intensity of feelingresulting in a great sense of awe. His excitement seemed to her sogreat that she begged him to go back to bed for the hours that yetremained before breakfast.
'I couldn't, I tell you, Cherry.'
'But you'll have _such_ a head-ache.'
'Time enough for that when I get home. I don't know what to do withmyself, I tell you; I must get into a church somewhere, or I can't bearit.'
'You'll lose your way.'
'I've got the map of London. If I can I shall get to St. Matthew's; andso I thought I had better tell you, in case I wasn't back to breakfast.Edgar showed me your room.'
'Is Edgar sleeping here?'
'No; he went to Renville's when he'd put me in. I'll be back anyway bythe time Robin and Angel come, but I can't stay quiet. Nobody ever gaveme any notion what this place is. It makes one feel I don't know how,only just to see the people--streaming, streaming, streaming, just likea river! And then that wonderful--most wonderful music!'
The boy was gone, and Cherry felt as if his fate were sealed--the dropgone to join the other drops, and to swirl away!
Edgar was rather amazed and disconcerted, when on coming in about teno'clock he found that he had vanished. He had meant to take him to anyecclesiastical wonder that he wished; but he laughed at Cherry's fearsof the boy losing himself. 'He is a born gamin,' he said--'takes toLondon streets as a native element. But Felix is right, he must nothave too much of it. I was heartily glad when it was over last night,and durst not keep him for the ballet, though I much wanted to see whathe would say to it; but he was worked up to such a pitch I didn't knowwhat would come next, and I'm sure his remarks taught me more about DonGiovanni than ever I saw before. He was in such a state when he cameout that I hardly knew what to do with him. I should have given hima glass of ale but he wouldn't hear of that, so I could only let himhave his will--a great cup of coffee--and send him to bed. I knew hewouldn't sleep.'
Lance _did_ appear at the moment of luncheon, when Robina andAngela arrived to spend the rest of the day. He had not reached StMatthew's; but he had found a church open early for a grand choralCelebration, and this not being customary at Minsterham, had beenalmost overwhelming to a nature like his. It had lasted so long, thatthe bell rang for matins before the congregation had left the church;and Lance had stayed on, and heard a service far exceeding in warmthand splendour that of his sober old cathedral, and such a soul-stirringsermon as was utterly unlike the steady-going discourses of his canons.
He had never even missed his breakfast, and yet seemed not to carefor the meal before him, though he ate what was put on his plate; andhe had that look of being all brow, eyes, and nose, that had oftenrecurred ever since his illness; but he would not allow that he wastired; and so far from being able to sit still, wanted his littlesisters to walk with him in Kensington Gardens, and Robina being adiscreet person, and knowing her way, there was no reason againstthis; and off they went, all three supremely happy, and Cherryfeeling a certain hopefulness that Robina's steady good sense wouldbe a counterpoise to other influences and excitements. But Lance hadnot come to any state for sober sense. Under the trees of KensingtonGardens, the influence of the brilliant spring beauty, and the gaycheerful vivacity of the holiday crowd, still acted on his eagerself; and he used his sisters as audience for all his impressions asto Don Giovanni, till he had driven Angela almost as wild as himselfwith his vivid descriptions--and to be sure, he treated it as a sortof religious exercise. Indeed, the sensation he seemed chiefly tohave carried off with him, was that London had been maligned; he hadalways supposed it to be a Vanity Fair, where one's religion wouldbe in extreme peril; and behold, he had found religion there likeeverything else--more quickening, more inspiriting, more exquisitelybeautiful and satisfying in its ministrations, than anything that hecould have conceived! Nor did the late Evening Service with which hisday finished--with all its accessories of light and music, and anothersermon from a celebrated preacher--lessen this impression, which madeSt Oswald's by comparison so utterly flat, dead, and unprofitable.
Robina could not help saying to Cherry, with that old-womanish air ofwisdom that belonged to her sometimes, 'I do wish we hadn't taken Lanceto such a nice church. He knows less what London really is now than hedid before.'
Dear little Robin! as if she knew what London _really_ was! And Cherrywas too anxious an elder sister to give her much comfort, except bysaying, 'It is fair that he should know the truth of what is to befound there, Bobbie. You see he is only getting good out of it in hisown mind.'
'Yes, that's true; only he will make himself ill.'
This had come to be Edgar's fear as well as Cherry's, when they foundthat Lance had slept quite as little the second night as the first,though he brought down those great lustrous blue eyes of his quite aswide open and full of zest in the morning. It made Edgar cautious inhis choice of sights for the Monday; but one so long habituated toLondon, and regarding with contempt its stock lions, could not estimatewhat they were to a lad at once so susceptible and so unsophisticated,and his diversion at Lance's raptures passed into anxiety, notunmingled with tedium, and almost disdain, at anything so verycountrified; but his real care and good nature never flagged till hehad safely, and to his positive relief, seen his little brother off forBexley by the five o'clock train, to work off his intoxication at home,among his proper guardians.
'I am sure,' he said to Geraldine, 'if I had had any notion that hisbrain had continued so ticklish, I would never have had him on myhands. The difference between lionizing him and old Blunderbore! whyit was--not exactly fire and water, but Ariel and Gonzalo. Shut thetwo up in the same shop! It is ridiculous! No, no, Lance must vegetatedown there till his brains have cooled down from that unlucky stroke;but after that, you'll see, nothing will keep him down in Felix's hole;'tisn't in the nature of things that he should be buried there. I'vegiven him the violin I got at Liege, so he won't be quite wasting histime.'
There was rest--at least, for the present--in Edgar's acquiescence inLance's vegetation, except so far as it gave food for present anxiety,by showing how the boy's excitability had alarmed him; and Cherryanxiously watched for rep
orts from home. Felix and she herself werethe chief letter-writers in the family, and he kept her daily suppliedwith tidings. His first account--written at intervals at the reporter'stable at Minsterham--bore that Lance had come all right, and seemed tohave enjoyed himself much. So he had kept up for one day; but on thethird came the inevitable tidings, 'Poor Lance is in bed, with headachein its worst shape. Wilmet has been obliged to stay at home to attendto him. It must have been coming on yesterday, for he seems to havetalked more than enough, and made more blunders than can be remedied ina day. I suppose Edgar would have laughed if I had cautioned him; butI would about as soon have put the boy to stand on the Equator as havetaken him to that opera.'
The days of pleasure seemed to have a heavy price; it was not tillSaturday that Felix reported Lance as in his place as usual, but stilllooking ill, quiet, and subdued. 'I am afraid,' proceeded the letter,'that it has been a very fascinating glimpse he has had of Edgar'sway of life, and that F. and U.'s house is more against the grain tohim. I doubt whether it be suited to him; but the other course seemsover-perilous. I wonder whether fathers have the power of insight andjudgment that I need so much. However, for the present, health speaksplainly that home is the only place for him; and I can with a freeconscience enjoy his bright face and service of good will. To have youand him both out of the way _was_ severe; but if it were not for hisgood, it is for yours.'
Yes, Geraldine trusted it was for her good. When Thomas Underwood wentto the City in the morning she was always set down at the Renvilles',whence the transit to the Museum was so short, that she could make iteither with her brother's arm or the master's. It was not thought fitfor her to work all day, so Mrs. Sturt (the old nurse) always came tomeet and take her home to luncheon; after which she either went outwith Mrs. Underwood and Marilda, or was carried about by her brother,in which case her conveyance was always defrayed at the door with solittle knowledge on her part, that Edgar accused her of supposingCousin Thomas to keep innumerable very seedy equipages always inwaiting on her steps.
It was great enjoyment--real instruction of the best sort in thatwhich was most congenial to her, putting the crown on her long lonelyperseverance, and giving a daily sense of progress and achievement,was delightful. She had no notion of rivalry; but when she perceivedthat she was excelling, that commendation almost always attended herattempts, and that in any competition she always came near the markand was sometimes foremost, she was conscious of a startling sense oftriumph; and Edgar was full of exultation. If his own studies at theRoyal Academy had been fulfilling all his golden dreams, he could nothave been half so uplifted as he was by Cherry's chances of a medal;while, if he had only acted on a quarter of the sensible advice he gaveher, he would already have been far advanced in his profession.
If he had been imprudent in Lancelot's case, he showed much tendergood judgment in his selection on Cherry's behalf of exhibitions andrehearsals--never overdoing her, and using all his grace and dexterityto obviate her fatigue and prevent embarrassments from her lameness,till she began to take courage and feel at ease.
Alda never went with them. She said Cherry's pace would be the deathof her, and she knew it all by heart. Yet, go where they would,there generally appeared, soon after four o'clock, a tall, handsome,black-moustached figure, seldom uttering more than 'Good-morning!' and'All well at home?' and then content to stalk beside them, perfectlyindifferent to their object, but always ready to give an arm to Cherry,or to find a cab.
'Dogged by Montezuma's ghost!' Edgar would mutter when the inevitableblack head came towering into view; and even Cherry sometimes feltthe silent haunting rather a bore. Edgar and Ferdinand were both goodcompany alone, but together she knew not what to do with them; sinceher sole common subject of interest to Ferdinand, church details,provoked Edgar's sarcasm; and though Edgar had enough to say on athousand other points, Fernan was totally silent on all, except horses,of which on her side she knew nothing. Nevertheless, for very pity, hewas always allowed to know their designs; and Cherry delivered messagesbetween him and Alda, and marvelled at her never finding it possible toavail herself of such chances of meeting.
Indeed, it puzzled Cherry why Ferdinand should be banished from thehouse, since Marilda took pains to mark her friendly feeling towardshim as Alda's betrothed; and the resentment of her parents appearedto be inactive; but Alda declared that any advance on his side wouldprovoke great wrath, and that open intercourse was impossible; and itcould only be supposed that she was the best judge.
However, to Cherry herself, Alda was far kinder than at home--perhapsbecause her own ground was too secure to leave room for jealousy; andshe viewed her sister as guest rather than rival. During the firstshyness and awe, she was a kind helper, full of tact, which parried therather obtrusive patronage of her so-called aunt; she provided books,quietly ameliorated matters of dress, and threw in judicious hintsand encouragements, so that Cherry's warm heart beat gratefully, andshe thought she had never known how nice Alda could be in her properelement.
As to Marilda, she was thoroughly good-natured, perhaps rather teasing,and tyrannical as to what she thought for Cherry's good, and verycareful that she should not be neglected; but there did not seem tobe much in common between them, they never could get on in a _tete atete_; and Cherry, who had heard vast statements from her brothersabout Marilda's original forms of goodness, was disappointed to findher life so entirely that of a common-place young lady. She was clumsy,over-dressed, and of a coarse complexion; and though she sometimes saidodd things, they were remarkable not for wit but for frankness. Itseemed as though the world had been too much for Marilda's better self,and as if she were becoming the purse-proud heiress who fancied wealthcould atone for want of refinement or of delicacy towards people'sfeelings.
It was with the master of the house that Cherry got on best. At firsthe treated her like a frail china cup that a touch might break, butgradually he discovered in her resemblances to all manner of pastUnderwoods, talked to her about her parents in their youth, expressedendless wonder how 'that lad Felix made it out,' and by-and-byfound that a few questions about the day's doings would draw fortha delightfully fresh, simple, and amusing narrative, given withanimated lips, and eyes that charmed him. He became very fond of littleGeraldine, and accepted her as his special evening companion when hiswife took the other two girls into society. She could talk, read thepaper, or play at cribbage; and was so much pleased to be of use, thatshe became as much at ease and therefore as amusing as with old Froggyhimself.
She had been assured of exemption from parties, but she found that thesumptuous luncheon was a popular institution, and that radiant ladies,lounging men, riding parties brought home by Alda, and stout matrons ona cruise of morning calls, were always dropping in. It was divertingto sit quietly by and listen to the characteristic confidences of thecity dames, to the dashing nonsense of the girls, and the languidaffectations of the young men; and capital material was furnished forthe long letters that amused the breakfast-table at home--journals,half full of beautiful description, half full of fun and drollery.Those gay dames and demoiselles little thought what a pair of keen greyeyes were watching them, as they passed, almost unheeded, the littlesober-hued person whom they never fairly understood to be the sister ofthe beautiful Alda.
Of the school establishment at Brompton Cherry saw something. She wasinvited to drink tea there, for the sake of talking over Angela;the two heads of the establishment being very glad to get an eldersister to discuss that puzzling personage with. Of Robina, since thecatastrophe eighteen months ago, they had nothing but good to say; shehad really lived it down, so far as to have proved that if she haderred, it was only in judgment; but with Angela they still knew notwhat to do.
She had come back subdued and with better impulses, and these hadcarried her on up to Easter, giving such satisfaction to the Vicar,that he had sanctioned her Confirmation; but immediately after theholidays, the wild spirit had broken out again. She neither learnt nortried to learn, attended to nothing but
music, and showed up exercisesand dictation flagrantly ill-spelt, and not unfrequently making funof the whole subject. As a reward for her weeks of propriety, she hadbeen promoted to the German class; but she had openly declared thatshe hated German, and saw no use in it, and she would not attemptanything but an occasional caricature of pronunciation. Everybodyliked her--even those whom she most disrespectfully provoked; andshe was like a kind of tame monkey to the school, turning her verypunishments into absurdity. She would lighten solitary confinementby fantastically decorating the chairs and tables. If shut up in thedark, her clear shrill voice would convulse all the household withLance's whole repertory of comic songs, the favourite being Thackeray's'Little Billee,' which she always sang as if she expected to be rescuedby the sight of 'Admiral Nelson, K.C.B.,' if not made 'Captain ofa Seventy-three!' and even impositions she always managed to makeludicrous, by comments, translations, or illustrations, bringing themup with a certain irresistible innocence and simplicity of countenance.What was to be done? No, they did not want her to be taken away;she was a bright dear girl, with a great deal of good in her--verywarm-hearted, and certainly devout; and Miss Fennimore confessed thatshe should be very sorry to part with her, or to confess herself beatenin the struggle. 'Your name is Geraldine?' she asked, suddenly; 'areyou Irish?'
'My grandmother was.'
'That accounts for it!'
'She must have absorbed all the Irish nature in the family, then,' saidCherry, laughing.
'Perhaps. But it throws a light on it. I don't know which is the mostcurious subject, national or family character.'
Of course Cherry was set to talk to Angela--an operation that she hatedalmost as much as Felix did; and the result of which attempt was this,'Now don't--don't, Cherry!'--hugging her round the neck; 'you neverwere made for scolding, and it is no use spoiling your own pleasure andmine! Leave it to Wilmet; she does it with dignity, you know!'
'But, Angel, I do really want to understand why you are so set againstGerman?'
'It's a nasty crack-jaw language, that all the infidels write theirbooks in.'
'I only wish they did!' murmured Cherry.
'And it's the Protestant language, too; and that's _worse_,' persistedAngela. 'No, I won't learn it on principle.'
'I thought principle was to do what one was told.'
'That depends. Now, German will never be of use to me; I'm not going tobe a governess, and I sha'n't qualify myself for it!'
'Yes, Angel, I know what you mean; but isn't obedience thequalification you must learn--if you are to come to the other thing?'
'I shall learn it fast enough when the time comes. Don't you know,Cherry, a republic is much better preparation for despotism than one ofyour shilly-shally rational limited monarchies?'
'That may be true,' said Cherry; 'but you know I think the rationalloyalty the most wholesome training.'
'Yes, I know. Family life suits you; but I must have the--the realreligious life or none. I don't like secularity.'
'O Angel, you are much worse with these fine words that deceive you,when you are really and truly only a naughty idle child!'
'That's true, Cherry; and yet it is not true,' said Angela,thoughtfully. 'I am a naughty idle child, and yet I am more.'
'How is it--after this Confirmation and all?'
'Ah!' said Angel, frankly. 'I thought it would have done me good andmade me different; but instead there's just one anticipation gone, andnothing to look to.'
'Not your own possible future?' (Cherry knew of it, though not Wilmet.)
'That's such a dreadful way off! No, if you all _will_ keep me in theworld, I must have my fun! Come, Cherry, don't look so horribly vexed!I'll tell you what, if you'll cheer up, I won't have another flare-upwith old Fen as long as you are here to be bullied about it!'
And she kept her word so faithfully, that the two ladies thoughtthat charming little elder sister had had a great effect upon theirtroublesome charge.