CHAPTER XXVI.
TRANSMUTATION.
'Affection follows Fortune's wheels, And soon is shaken from her heels; For, following beauty or estate, Her loving soon is turned to hate.' _Sir Walter Raleigh._
'Do you remember,' wrote Cherry, 'poor Fernan's old rival in the LifeGuards, Sir Adrian Vanderkist? I have seen him! He descended uponus at luncheon-time in all his glory; and Mrs. Underwood was likeEve entertaining the Angel. I hope that is not profane! it is onlyParadise Lost. I don't comprehend her delight, for he is only thegrandson of a man who made a great fortune by inventing some metal tolook like silver. Though he must have been Dutch, this youth is notthe conventional Dutchman in seven knickerbockers perched on a barrel,but is small and insignificant, in spite of his magnificent get-up.Never did Fernan, in his most bejewelled days, equal that studiousexquisiteness; and I could pity the baronet for having had a rival withblack moustaches that curl of their own accord; but pity evaporateswhen I find that he has got Brown Murad, and hear Mrs. Underwood'sgratitude for his promise of tickets for somebody's concert. I wonderwhether he is thinking about Marilda?
'April 15th. Two great events begin to loom. One is our _soireemusicale_, for which the cards are actually being written; and Edgarand Alda are debating the programme. I am to have a quiet corner out ofsight, and use my eyes and ears. How I wish you and Lance could send upyours!
'The other is a great function at St. Matthew's, on the opening of thenew infant-schools, on Whit Tuesday. Clement is coming down for it;and Robin, Angel, and I are to go with Cousin Tom to his office, whereClem will meet and take charge of us. It certainly is a fine thing tocome to London, and see the world; though the nicest part of the worldto me is that odd little room of Mrs. Renville's where people are soentertaining, and one catches glimpses of great luminaries in theirmoments of unbending and good nature.......
'May 3rd. Where shall I begin the story of our _soiree_? I will passover the misery of serving as a _corpus vile_, for Alda and Mrs.Sturt to try experiments on with scraps of head-gear and jewellery,and merely state that I had the white alpaca with blue velvet edges,and blue beads round my head and neck; and then they did not _verymuch_ mind the sight of me; and Edgar even said I looked a tidy littlething enough. He and Marilda disposed of me in a nice little nookin the recess of a window, more than half hidden by a curtain, andcapital for seeing and hearing, nearly as good as my old perch in theorgan gallery. Alda looked beautiful--such lovely rosy clouds of softgauziness, and wreaths of wild roses! She has put an end to the habitof dressing like Marilda, to their mutual benefit; but, oh, if I couldsee old W.W. in such garb! Doesn't she look disgusted? But who knowswhat John may put her into?
'Oh, the things people wear! (then followed some pen-and-ink outlines,)and the colours and the festoonings! I trust that in some stratum ofsociety somewhere there is more notion of the beautiful. If the worldis all like this, I can't tell why it should be so dangerous; for, asfar as I can see, it consists in conjugating the verb _to bore_.
'However, there was the music, and that was compensation. (A criticalaccount ensued then.) _Private._ Poor Edgar was quite upset when one ofthe ladies varied from the programme by singing Alice's favourite old"Sands of Dee." I saw him frowning and biting the end of his moustache,as if he could hardly bear it; but, as you may guess, he was the morefunny and lively when he came to me, teasing me about that Sir Adrian,whom he calls a specimen of the transmutation of metals--Dutch slimemade shiny, and threatening me with who or what would be transmutednext; but I think Marilda has more principle.
'Afterwards I had a great treat, for Edgar spied Mr. Grinstead, whomwe had never expected, though he had a card, as he does not care formusic; and Cousin Tom only knows him through having bought his lovelygroup of Una and the Lion. I had met him at the Renvilles'; and Edgarbrought him to my corner, where he leant against the window-shutter,and talked most pleasantly, only he would go on all through the songs;but one could excuse a great deal to a man who knew Thorwaldsen, andhas seen Canova; and he told me so much that I wanted to hear, thatit was a perfect feast. When he found I had never seen the Leonardoat Morecombe House, he caught Mrs. Underwood, and arranged to take usthere at four o'clock on Wednesday. Fancy seeing a Leonardo! and withhim to explain it! Mrs. Underwood was quite in a rapture, because shewants to see a cabinet that Lady Morecombe gave L150 for; but I thoughtit very nasty of Sir Adrian to say that he knew Lord Morecombe verywell, and could take her there any day, to which Alda answered that shehated show houses.'
(Enclosed from Edgar.)
'The fact is, that the Cherry is a brilliant success. She is our onenative genius for conversation; and I will say for the Pursuivantthat it has kept her up to the day. At Renville's she is the life ofeverything; and even here the ocean of dullness cannot so entirelyasphyxiate her but that she sparkles up through it; and luckily Aldahas not so perceived it as to begin the extinguishing process--indeed,she has affairs of her own to look to. As to Grinstead--it is a caseof captivation. Don't be afraid, or the reverse: he is a confirmed oldbachelor, bald and spectacled. Renville showed him her sketch of hisUna, and he said nothing had ever so hit off the soul. He met her attheir house; and she, not knowing who he was, was not encumbered withany awe of greatness, but chattered like her own little self, till hewas taken with her freshness and cleverness, came here on purpose tomeet her, and is to show her the Morecombe gallery. A fine chance!Altogether, the little maid has so many feathers in her cap, that shewouldn't know where to stick them, if--poor little dear!--she everfound them out, and didn't think every attention pure pity to her lamefoot.'
* * * * *
The next was the day of the festival at St. Matthew's. Mr. Underwoodgraciously consented to use a carriage large enough to transport Cherryand both her little sisters to his office, at the door of which thereappeared, however, not Clement, but Ferdinand Travis. The organisthad been suddenly taken ill, and Clement was supplying his place; soFerdinand, whose firm had taken a Whitsun holiday, was the substitute,in the vain hope that Alda would have been of the party.
'No,' said Angela; 'they are going to ride. And, O Fernan! I am sure Isaw Brown Murad com--'
There she stopped short, either aghast at a sort of spasm that crossedFerdinand's countenance, or diverted by the full current of life inHolborn; and he, recovering, began to point out whatever could interestCherry. He had a great deal to tell about St. Matthew's, where he knewhis way as well as Clement himself, and piloted his charge in good timeto the very place their brother had indicated for them.
The service was most beautiful, and full of life; and then ensued aprocession to, and benediction of, the new school and nursery for thelittle ones. Afterwards came the new experience of luncheon for thelarge motley party in the refectory of the clergy-house--new at leastto Cherry, for her sisters were not unfamiliar there; Robina had a dearfriend's little brother among the choristers, and Angela was chatteringto a curate or two. Clement was happy in meeting with old comrades; andCherry was glad that she was saved from being a burthen by Ferdinand'sdevotion, and quite accepted his assurance that it was a great delightto him.
Then followed a feast for the school-children and the aged; but theatmosphere soon became too much for Cherry, and she thankfully acceptedFerdinand's proposal of showing her the church in detail. It was onlyon the other side of the quadrangle; and there was a great charm inthe lofty, cool, quiet building, where she could dwell thoroughly onevery decoration, permanent or temporary, and in full sympathy with hercompanion, who went so fully and deeply into all these subjects, as tolead her on, and open new meanings to her. At last they sat down in asort of cloister that ran round the court, to wait for the rest.
'Do you know,' said Geraldine, 'this place gives me a sense of lifeand vigour. Our own seems to me, in comparison, a sort of sleeping, orrather a mechanically acting, body, wanting a spirit and soul to bebreathed into it and make it effective.'
'You have never told me about your new curate,' said Ferdinand; andindeed, by tacit consent, they had avoided the subject in Edgar'spresence.
'Mr. Flowerdew? Oh, he is very good, very gentle, and kind; but he is adepressed elderly man, with all the energy disappointed and worn out ofhim. His wife is dead; and he has two or three children, out, settled,and fighting their way; and there he is alone, still an assistantcurate, tumbled about in secondary positions too long to care for anymore than just doing his duty without any life or spring.'
'Do you see much of him?' said Ferdinand, surprised by this intimateknowledge.
'Yes. He makes the sick his special care, and he thinks me one; so hecomes sometimes, and sits half an hour when I am painting, withoutsaying a word. I think it is cheerful for him, in his way,' saidCherry, with a merry laugh. 'And he is very musical; so the boyslike that. But do you know, Ferdinand, when I look at him, I do feelthankful that my own dear father had not the long weary wear and tearto change him. That man is older than he would be even now.'
'Of course it must be good,' said Ferdinand. 'And is there no chance ofMr. Bevan coming back?'
'He wants another summer at the baths. The absence of the headparalyses everything so. I always feel, when I go back from St.Faith's, as if we had the framework, and of course the real essentials;but we have to do all the work of bringing it home to ourselves.'
'I know what you mean,' said Ferdinand; 'though Bexley must be more tome than any other place, this one is the great help and compensation tome. How I wish Alda were near it!'
'Has she ever been here?'
'Once or twice; but only under its shadow does one enter into the reallife. Some day perhaps--'
Geraldine could not imagine the day of Alda's entering into the reallife of St. Matthew's; but she could only say, 'Of course there is avast difference between only coming as an outsider, and being one ofthe congregation.'
'Immense; though I never found it out till I came to live here; and soit would be with her. After all, were she but near, or I could see herfreely, I should enjoy my present life very much.'
'I'll tell you what I should do in your place,' said Cherry. 'I wouldgo straight to Mr. Underwood, and ask his leave to visit her; and Idon't believe he would make any objection.'
'No. Alda forbids that,' he answered, decidedly; 'and she can be theonly judge.' Cherry felt small. But presently he added, 'I wish Icould be rid of the doubt whether the present state of things is notburdensome to her. Perhaps I ought to to have freed her at once; Icould have worked for her without binding her.'
'Nothing but affection really binds,' said Cherry, in some difficultyfor her answer.
'No; I might have trusted to that, but I thought the release would costher as much as myself; and she was at home then!' and he suppressed aheavy sigh.
'She said it would be easier to meet you in London,' said Cherry; 'butI don't think it is.'
'And absence leaves room for imaginations,' he said. 'And I havenothing tangible to set against what I hear--ay, and see.'
'What?' the word was out of Cherry's mouth before she could check it.
'You can cast it out of my mind, perhaps,' he said. 'Do you ever see afellow of the name of Vanderkist?'
Cherry could not help starting. And his black brows bent, and his facebecame stern, so that she was fain to cry, 'Oh, but it's Marilda!'
'Impossible!' he said, with what she thought a terrible smile at hersimplicity. 'I tell you, I saw his first look at her--at my Alda!' Someruthless Spanish ancestor must have looked out of the deep glow of hiseyes, as he added, 'I hear he has betted that she, as well as whateverI used to prize, shall be his before the end of the season.'
'Let him!' said Cherry, proudly. 'Alda can't help that. She can'thinder his coming to the house.'
'I know,' he said. 'Do not suppose that I doubt her. I trust herentirely; but I am foolish enough to long for the assurance that thereis no cause for the rumour that she encourages him.'
Under such eyes of dark fire, it was well that Cherry could sincerelyanswer, 'Oh no! Every one does come round her; but she does not let himdo so a bit more than other people.'
'You entirely believe that I may dismiss this as a base groundlesssuspicion?'
'I do!' she said, with all her heart. 'We all know that Alda is usedto admiration; it comes to her as naturally as pity and help to me,and makes no impression on her. Mrs. Underwood likes to have him as afashionable guest, that's all. Oh, Alda could never be so wicked!'
'You are right, Geraldine. Thank you,' he said, just as Clement andthe younger ones came in search of them, with Fred Somers, erstfellow-chorister, now fellow-Cantab--a little wiry merry fellow, thevery antipodes to his bosom friend.
All wanted to stay for seven o'clock Evensong; but Robina was clearthat it was impossible, since the ladies were dispersing, and they hadno invitation to the clergy-house. Angela wildly asked if Clement couldnot take them to the Tower, or St Paul's; Cherry could sit in a seatwhile they went round.
'Sit in a seat!' cried Robina. 'She is tired already. Clement, do goand call a cab.'
'Could you not go to Mrs. Kedge's, Cherry?' asked Clement. 'I want youto hear our Pentecost Hymns.'
'Come to my rooms,' said Ferdinand. 'They are much nearer; and youshall have tea and everything in no time.'
'Like greased lightning!' returned Angel, who always talked what shesupposed to be Yankee to Ferdinand. 'Oh, what fun! Do come, Cherry!'
'Do come,' repeated Ferdinand, eagerly; 'it is only round the corner,no crossing, and no stairs; and you shall have a good rest--much betterthan jingling away in a cab.'
'Thank you;' and Cherry looked inquiringly at Robina, whose discretionshe viewed as little short of Wilmet's. 'Would Miss Fulmort approve?'
'Yes,' said that wise little bird; 'we need only be in by ten. You hadmuch better, Cherry. You are quite as good as a brother--aren't you,Fernan?'
In ten minutes more, Mr. Travis's landlady was aghast at the processionpouring into her quiet ground-floor; while, after insisting on Cherry'sinstallation on a dingy lumpy bumpy sofa, their host might be overheardgiving orders for a sumptuous tea, though not exactly with the geniusof Wilmet or Lance.
He had cast his anxieties to the winds, and had never shown himselfso lively or so much at ease. To all it was a delightful frolic. Mr.Somers was full of fun, and even Clement was gay--perhaps becauseWhittingtonia had become a sort of native element to him, or elsebecause the oddity of the thing overcame him; and Angela was in anecstatic state, scarcely kept within bounds by her morning's promise tobe _very_ good.
Those dingy bachelor's rooms, close upon the street, and redolent oftobacco to the utmost degree, could seldom have re-echoed with suchgirlish fun as while Angela roamed about, saucily remarking on thepipes and smoking equipments--relics, not disused, of the Life Guarddays. So likewise was the beautiful little chased silver tea-pot,which was committed to Robin's management. Indeed, there was a largeproportion of plate, massive and remarkable.
'Mexican taste,' said Ferdinand, handing a curious sugar-basin. 'Itbelonged to my grandmother, and was turned over to me when I set up formyself.'
'What's this on it? said Angel. 'I declare, 'tis the caldron theMexicans boiled people's hearts in.'
'For shame, Angel!' said Robin; 'the Aztecs were not cannibals.'
'I beg your pardon, Bobbie; I know we read about Cortes seeing themcutting out people's hearts on their temples like the tower of Babel,because I thought of Fernan.'
'Hush!' said Cherry, seeing that the horrid subject was displeasing.'There's nothing witty in talking of horrors. Besides, is not this theSpanish olla?'
'I believe it is,' answered Ferdinand. 'It is the Mendez bearing, andas the Travises can boast of none, I followed my spoons.'
'With the dish,' said Mr. Somers; a joke that in their present mood setthem laughing.
'Nothing can be more suited to the circumstances,' said Cherry, 'as theolla is the emblem of hospitality.'
'What are the
three things up above?' asked Angel; 'turnips going to bestewed?'
'Santiago's cockle-shells, the token of pilgrimage,' said Ferdinand.'That's the best part of the coat.'
'Some day I'll work you a banner-screen, Fernan,' said Robina; 'butthat will be when you impale our Underwood rood.'
'And the pilgrim is brought to the cross,' said Angela, in one of hergrave moments of fanciful imagery.
The echo of her words, however, struck Cherry as conveying an innuendothat the child did not mean. Crosses could hardly be wanting to one whohad Alda for his wife; but happily no one else seemed to perceive it;and they drifted on from grave to gay, and gay back to grave, till itwas time to return to the festival Evensong.
Clement and his friends had to hurry away to the station directlyafter. He would have put his three sisters into a cab, and sent it homewith them; but Ferdinand insisted on squeezing his long limbs intodurance and escorting them, to the tune of Angel's chatter and theclatter of the windows. Cherry was the first set down; and she wentstraight to the drawing-room, ready for interest and sympathy.
'How late you are!' said Alda.
'How did you come?' asked Marilda.
'In a cab. It is gone on with the little girls. We stayed for eveningservice. The lights were so beautiful!'
'Just what boys and girls run after,' said Mr. Underwood. 'I like myopera to be an opera, and my church to be a church.'
'Yes,' said Mrs. Underwood, 'staying out so late, and in the city. Idon't half like such doings.'
'What could you have done between services?' added Alda. 'Were you atthe clergy-house all day?'
'Of course they were,' said Mr. Underwood. 'Trust a curate to takecare of a pretty girl. High or low, they are all alike.'
'No,' said Cherry, in blushing indignation; 'we had tea at Mr.Travis's.'
'Indeed!' said Alda.
And Cherry knew the tone but too well; and under this plentiful showerof cold water, perceiving her own fatigue, bade good night. She waskindly bidden to send Nurse for wine, tea, or whatever she needed; butshe was still conscious of displeasure.
In the morning she was weary and dispirited, and for the first timefelt that there was no one to remark, as Felix or Wilmet would havedone, that she was flagging. Failing this, she prepared as usual to goto her class; but before starting she encountered Mrs. Underwood.
'Geraldine,' said that lady, majestically, 'you are a talented youngperson; but--you must excuse me--I cannot have such independence undermy roof. It is not _comifo_. Bless me, don't tremble so; I don't meananything. You meant no harm; only you should have come home, you know,when your brother wasn't there.'
'But he was!' gasped Geraldine, colouring.
'Why, wasn't it that young man Travis met you?'
'He met us, for Clement was hindered; but Clement was there, and waswith us all the time.'
'H'm! That ought to have been explained. Why didn't you tell yoursister? She is quite distressed.'
A summons from Mr. Underwood obliged Cherry to hurry away, her heartthrobbing, her head whirling, and no comfort but hard squeezing theivory back of Lord Gerald; and when she reached Mr. Renville's, herhand was trembling so, that she could not have drawn a line if thegood haus-frau had not dosed her with the strong coffee, which in trueGerman fashion was always ready. Then the absorbing interest of her artrevived her; and she returned home, cheered, and believing that themisunderstanding was cleared up.
Indeed, Mrs. Underwood was as good-natured as ever; and Alda waschiefly employed in rejecting all the solicitations to accompanythe party to Morecombe House, and rebutting the remonstrances onthe incivility to Mr. Grinstead; to which Marilda had yielded, butgrumbling loudly at the bore of seeing pictures and taking no pains toconceal that she was cross and angry with Cherry for having brought itupon her.
Poor Cherry! Of the few parties of pleasure of her life, this wasthat which most reminded her of the old woman of Servia! After havingMarilda's glum face opposite through the drive, she was indeed mostkindly welcomed by Mr. Grinstead; but how could she enjoy the attentionthat was so great a kindness and honour, when every pause before apicture was a manifest injury to her companions?
Mrs. Underwood indeed had occupation in peeping under holland covers,estimating the value of carpets and curtains, and admiring the giltframes; but this did not hold out as long as the examination of eachfavourite picture in detail; and what was worse, Marilda plumpedherself down in the first chair in each room, and sat poking the floorwith her parasol, the model of glum discontent. How could the mind befree for the Madonna's celestial calm, or the smiling verisimilitudeof portraiture? how respond or linger, when the very language of artwas mere uninteresting jargon to impatient captives, who thought hercomprehension mere affectation? While to all other discomforts must beadded the sense of missing one of the best opportunities of her life,and of ill responding to a gracious act of condescension.
She came home tired to death, and with a bad headache, that no one tookthe trouble to remark; and she dressed for dinner with a sense that itmattered to no one how she felt.
Just as she was ready, Marilda came gravely in, sitting down inpreparation, Cherry felt, for something dreadful; but even herimagination failed to depict the fact.
'Geraldine,' was the beginning, 'Alda wishes you to hear that she hasput an end to the engagement.'
Cherry absolutely screamed, 'Oh, oh, don't let her do that! It would beso dreadful!'
Marilda looked severe. 'I don't suppose you thought what it was comingto.'
'O! I have often been sorry to see things, but it seemed so atrociousto think so.'
'Then you must have known you were doing wrong.'
'What--how--what have I done? I don't know what you mean!'
'Indeed! It is of no use to look frightened and innocent. Perhaps youdid not mean anything; but when it grew so marked, Alda could not butfeel it.'
'What? Does Alda mean _that?_' cried Cherry, starting up, scarlet withhorror.
'Now I see you understand. She is terribly hurt. She excuses it, forshe says you have been so petted all your life, that you don't know theright bounds.'
'And can you really think this of me?' moaned she.
'It is just like every one when they have the chance--no one ever meansit,' said Marilda.
'Oh!' cried Cherry, as a fresh horror came across her, 'but if Aldathinks ever so horridly of me, how can she doubt him? Oh, stop her,stop her! Let me only tell her how he talked of her yesterday! Hiswhole soul is full of her. Oh, stop her, Marilda, do!'
'It is of no use,' said Marilda; 'she has sent her letter. She wasresolved to do nothing hastily, so she went this morning and saw thelittle girls.'
'Oh, oh!' broke in Cherry, with another cry of pain. 'Those poorchildren have not been brought into trouble again?'
'No; it was no doing of theirs; but when she perceived the exclusiveattention that--when she found,' hesitated Marilda, forgetting herlesson, 'how you had been sitting in the cloister--in short, how it hadall gone on--she said it was the finishing stroke.'
'Oh!' a sigh or groan, as if stabbed; then with spirit, 'but why wasn'tshe there herself? He only took me for want of her! He only speaks tome because I am her sister. He was so unhappy--I was trying to cheerhim.'
'So you might think; but that's the way those things run on. There'sthe gong!'
Cherry rose, but felt that sitting at table would end in faintness, andMarilda went away in doubt, between pity and displeasure, whether atcontrition or affectation.
No sooner was the door shut, and Cherry alone, than a terrible hystericalagony came on. There was personal sense of humiliation--passionate anger,despair, for Ferdinand's sake--miserable loneliness and desertion. Shefelt as if she were in a house full of enemies; and had absolutedifficulty in restraining screams for Felix to come and take herhome. The physical need of Wilmet or Sibby, to succour and soothe heragitation and exhaustion, soon became so great as to overpower themental distress; but she would not call or ring; and when Mr
s. Sturtcame, the kind woman made as if the headache accounted for all.
She reported that Miss Alda likewise had gone to her room with aheadache; and Cherry saw no one but Mrs. Underwood, who looked in tooffer impossible remedies, and be civilly but stiffly compassionate.
The stifled hysteria was much worse for Geraldine than free tears. Shehad a weary night of wretched dream fancies, haunted by Ferdinand'ssombre face, convulsed with rage, and tormented by the belief thatshe had done something so frightful as to put her out of the pale ofhumanity; nor was it till long after daylight that she could so collecther ideas as to certify herself that if she had done wrong, it had atleast been unwittingly; but even then she was in a misery of shame, andof the most intense longing for her brother or sister to defend andcomfort her.
She managed to rise and dress; but she was far too unwell to attemptthe classes for the day. Alda spoke coldly; and she crept away, to lieon the sofa in the old school-room, trusting that before post-timeher hand might grow steady enough to write an entreaty to be takenhome, and longing--oh! longing more every hour for Edgar, and stillhe did not come! Marilda looked in, began to believe her really ill,grew compassionate, asked how she treated such attacks, deemed herpenitent, and began to soothe her as if she was a naughty baby. Then,in desperation, Cherry ventured to ask what had been heard of him--Mr.Travis. He had been at the door--he had taken no refusal--had forced aninterview--he was gone. Alda was in her own room, bolted in. Marildahad not seen her since.
Cherry shook from head to foot, and quivered with suppressed stranglingsobs, as the shame of such a requital for the sacrifice of Ferdinand'swhole career agonised her at one moment, and at another she wasterrified at the possible effect on that fervid nature.
Oh, that long, long piteous day! She never did write--never even feltas if she could sit up to guide a pen. At last Alda came in, with astrange awe-struck paleness about her face, as if she had gone throughsomething terrible; and in a tone that sounded unnatural, said, 'Come,Cherry, don't give way so. I didn't mean to accuse you. People don'talways know what they are doing. I am thankful on my own account.'
Cherry had longed for a kind word; but this sort of pardon was likeAlda's taking the advantage of her when Felix was not there to protecther. Not naturally meek, she was too much shaken to control a voicethat sounded more like temper than sorrow. 'You have no right to accuseme at all, as if I were a traitor!'
'Not a deliberate traitor, my dear,' said Alda, in a voice of candour;'certainly not; but you don't know the advantage helplessness andcleverness give over us poor beauties who show our best at first. Iblame no one for using their natural weapons.'
'Don't, Alda!' cried Cherry, with the sharpness of keen offence. 'Youmay keep that speech for those you got it up for!'
'Well, if you are in such a mood as that, nobody can talk to you,'said Alda, going away, and leaving her to a worse paroxysm of miserythan before, and an inexpressible sense of desolation, passing into analmost frantic craving for Edgar, to make him take her home.
Marilda gave a little relief by telling her that he was sent for; butafter long expectation, word came that he was not at home, nor did hislandlady know when he would return.
By this time it was too late to send a letter; and Cherry began to feelashamed of having so given way, and to think of exerting herself torecover, if only to be in a condition to go home when Edgar should befound; so she made an effort to remember the remedies with which shewas wont to be passively dosed by Wilmet, went to bed, and tried hardto put herself to sleep. Though it was long before she effectuallysucceeded, she was much calmer in the morning, deeply wounded indeed,but trying to accept the imputation that her habit of expecting aidmight have led her into what had given umbrage to Alda, and that selfimmolation might yet heal the misunderstanding, and the desire to pleadwith Alda seemed to brace her nerves; but Alda was not attainable. Sheonly just came in, in her habit, while Mrs. Sturt was dressing Cherry,and said that she had such a headache, that she must take a countryride; and Cherry, who felt as if she had been under a stampede of wildhorses, could only just crawl to the sofa, and lie there; while thewhole family were in such wholesome dread of that dumb hysteria, thatthey were as tender as they knew how to be, and abstained from allreference to the previous day.
The afternoon had come on the weary, home-sick, exhausted spirit, whena springy step came along the corridor, a light airy rap struck thedoor, and a tall, lithe, yet strong form, and a pair of kind smilingeyes, brought the sense of love and guardianship that the spoilt childof home had been pining for. She had yesterday meant to cry out tohim,' O Edgar, take me home!' but she did not speak, only looked up,glad and relieved.
'Why, Cherry,' as he kissed her hot brow, and caressingly held her limpcold hand, 'it seems to be the family fashion to suffer by proxy forthese little catastrophes. Who is to take to his or her bed when someIndian spinster hooks W.W.'s engineer?'
'Hush, Edgar! Have you seen _him?_'
'Have not I?'
'Ah, I knew you must be with him, when they could not find you!'
'Me? No; I had enough of it the night before! I had had too narrow anescape of getting my neck wrung for declining to act as go-between, tosubject myself to the same again, and went off with some fellows toRichmond--only came back an hour ago.'
'O, Edgar! if you had but tried--'
'Take my advice, Cherry. Never put your foot into a boiling cauldron!Besides, don't you know perfectly well that never was there a worsematched pair? St. Anthony and Venus attired by the Graces; and verylittle more attire could he give her. If dear old Blunderbore had hada grain of common sense he would have told them so a year ago; and Ishould have thought even you could have seen it to be a happy release.'
'I see you don't know the cause--'
'Visible enough to the naked eye!' And Edgar, in imitation of Theodore,hummed 'Mynheer van Dunck.'
'For shame, Edgar! Oh no! it is only what could be mended if you wouldbut show her that I--that he--that he only was kind to me for her sake.If she would only hear what he was saying to me! but she won't! Justset it straight; and then, please--please take me home.'
'Well,' said Edgar, as he gathered the drift of her broken phrases,spoken with her face hidden on his shoulder, 'this is as nasty,spiteful a trick as Alda ever played! He said she put it on some motiveof jealousy--and she always was a jealous toad; but I never guessed atthis! Never mind, Cherie. She only wanted a pretext, and you came firstto hand. I'll let her know what I think of it--and Polly too!'
'But, indeed, I don't think I was guarded enough.'
'Of course you don't. You and Tina think yourselves the mostheavenly-minded when you can accuse yourselves of anything utterlyridiculous.'
'It was what she heard from Robin and Angel.'
'The marplots of the family--little minxes!' said Edgar, with abitterness she was sorry to have provoked. 'No,' he added, 'notmarplots in this case. I see it all as plain as a pikestaff! Felixhaving shown his usual refreshing innocence by leaving Alda in thispredicament, she had to get out of it as best she could; so she trumpsup this charge between Robin's prudery and Angel's chatter; nor would Ihave blamed her a bit if she had only flourished it in his eyes; but topoison Marilda with it, and annihilate you--I can't forgive that!'
'Oh, but she believes it.'
'If she gets up a little delusion--a slight screen to the Mynheer--sheought to keep it to herself.'
'I shall try to write it all properly to her when I get home.'
'Home! You aren't going to be ill?'
'No; but I can't stay after all this--to be looked on in this way.'
'I'll settle that.'
'You can't expose Alda.'
'I shall expose her no more than I have done fifty times before. Don'tbe afraid. We understand one another--Polly, Alda, and I.'
'Don't defend me! I had so much rather go back.'
'Of course; but you need not be a little goose. You did not come herefor pleasure, but business. And is this great genius t
o be stifledbecause Alda talks a little unjustifiable nonsense?'
'Do you think Felix and Wilmet would tell me to stay?'
'Wilmet certainly would. Felix might be tempted to take his baby hometo rock; but even he has sense enough to tell you that the only way todeal with such things is to brazen them out.'
'I haven't got any brass.'
'Then you must get some. Seriously, Cherry, it would be very silly togo flying home, throwing up all your opportunities, and the very thingto give some _vraisemblance_ to Alda's accusation. If I had only beenhere yesterday, I'd have choked it in the throat of her, and hinderedyou from caring a straw; but I didn't want to meet Travis in his exies.'
'I wish you would really tell me about him--poor dear Fernan!'
'Take care! That looks suspicious. Well, poor fellow! the Mexican isstrong in him. _Grattez lui_ ever so slightly. Well for Mynheer that heis not out with him on a prairie, with a revolver! But, whereas Audleyand Felix caught him in time to make a spoon out of a bowie-knife, Idon't expect much to happen, beyond my distraction from his actingcaged panther in my room till two o'clock that night!'
'He came here and saw her yesterday. Have you seen him since?'
No; Edgar had kept out of the way, and would not talk of him; but stoodover his sister, wishing to soothe and relieve the little thing, forwhom he cared more than for all the lovers put together, and whose wanexhausted looks, visible suffering, and nervous shudders he could notbear to see. 'I wish you weren't too big for rocking, Baby,' he said.And then he sat down to the piano, playing and singing a low softlullaby, which at last brought quiet sleep to the refreshment of theharassed mind and weary frame.
The hum of conversation in an undertone at length gradually roused her.
'The long and short of it is, that she was tired of it.'
'But she wouldn't have invented such a story.'
'I never said she invented it! She's not so stupid but that she canput a gloss on a thing; and you _know_ she hates to have a civil wordsaid to any one but herself--particularly to that poor little dear.'
'Then it wasn't right to let him be always running after her.'
'Stuff! They'd been cronies ever since he was first caught; in fact,she was one of the tame elephants that licked him into shape, longbefore he set eyes on either of you. No stuff about it at all; they arejust like brother and sister. The poor child would no more be capableof such a thing than that lay figure of hers--hasn't it in her; and foryou to go and bully her!'
'Well,' in a half-puzzled, half-angered tone, 'that's what Alda says.She declares she only told me, and never meant me to speak to _her_about the cause.'
'She wanted to play off the injured heroine; and you--not being up tosuch delicate subtilties, walked off to speak your mind. Eh!'
'I thought I ought.'
'You put your great thumb on a poor little May-fly, just as if it hadbeen a tortoise!'
'I'm sure I had no notion she would be so unhappy; all girls do suchthings; and most are proud of it. I was only disappointed to find herlike the rest; but I'd no notion she would cry herself ill.'
Here Geraldine's senses became sufficiently clear to make her awarethat she was the topic, and ought to rouse herself, no longer to letthe discussion mingle with her dreams. With some effort she opened hereyes, and saw Edgar astride on the music-stool, and Marilda leaning onthe mantel-shelf.
'I'm awake,' she drowsily said.
'To the battle over your prostrate body,' said Edgar. 'Go to sleepagain, little one. Polly is very sorry, and won't do so no more.'
'She didn't say so, Edgar,' said Cherry; 'and if I had really done so,she ought to have been a great deal more angry with me.'
'Well, Geraldine,' said Marilda, 'I believe, whatever you did, youdidn't know it; and I know I was hard on you. My father and motherdon't know anything about it--only that it is off--'
'And that they rightly ascribe to Alda's good sense,' said Edgar.
This much relieved Cherry, who had thought it impossible to remainwhere she was, viewed as a traitor to her own sister. It wounded her,indeed, that Marilda should merely condone the offence, instead ofacquitting her; but when she recollected the probability that Marildahad suffered the like treatment from Alda, who was nevertheless lovedso heartily, it began to dawn upon her that there was a disposition toview the offence as common, natural, and light, rather than not excusethe offender. She despised her cousin for lowering the standard to suita favourite, and was sure she should never be comfortable again tillshe got home; but she was reasonable enough to perceive the force ofwhat Edgar had shown her--as to the folly of forsaking her studies, andabandoning the advantages offered to her; and his kindness had muchcheered her; so she said no more about going home, and resumed herformer habits, though feeling that Marilda's patronizing cordiality wasgone, and that Alda was simply cold and indifferent.
She felt especially unwilling to face the two little girls, who seemedto have acted as false witnesses against her; but an imploring notefrom Robina besought her to call; and on arriving in the parlour, whereinterviews were allowed, she was greeted with, 'O Cherry, is it true?and was that why Alda came here?'
Then she found that they had heard from home of the rupture of theengagement; and that they had immediately connected it with Alda'sextraordinary visit of the week previous.
'She came to bring us a cake,' said Robin; 'but as she never did sobefore, I thought something was at the bottom of it, and that she justwanted to hear more about Ferdinand and his lodgings.'
'And,' added Angel, who, if less sensible, was far before Robina in acertain irregular precocity, 'I thought I'd get a rise out of her, andchaff her a little. She used to be so savage last year, whenever Fernantreated you with common humanity.'
'O Angel, how could you!'
'You don't mean that it did the harm! Bobbie said so; but I didn'tthink Alda could be so silly as to think it in earnest, Cherry.'
'Angel, you have been playing with edge-tools.'
'Cherry, tell me what you mean!' Angela pounced on both her arms, as ifto shake it out of her.
'Never do such a thing again, Angel. You cannot tell what you may bedoing.'
'Well, if any one could be so stupid! So dense, as not to see it wasfun! Now, Robin--'
'I think,' said the practical Robin, 'that all you can do, is to writedown a full confession that you meant to tease Alda.'
'Yes, yes, yes,' cried Angela, with less shame than Cherry would havethought possible, 'I will! I will! and then they'll make it up. Whowould have thought Alda could have been so easily taken in? But howshall I do it unknownst to the harpies?'
Cherry offered a pencil, and a bit of her drawing-block. She made nosuggestion, thinking that the more characteristic the confession was,the more it would prove its authenticity. Angela retired into a window,and wrote, in her queer unformed hand:
I, Angela Margaret Underwood, hereby confess that whatever I told Alda, my sister, about Geraldine and F.T., was all cram; and if I did it too well, I'm very sorry for it. F.T. didn't take a bit more notice of Cherry than of Robin and me; and of course he cannot marry the three of us: and of course it was all right, for Clement was there. Ask him.
Witness my hand, ANGELA MARGARET UNDERWOOD.
Then she called, 'Come and witness it, Robin.'
'Nonsense,' said Robina; and coming to look, she exclaimed, 'you havemade it simply ridiculous. This will do no good!--See, Cherry.'
But Cherry would not have it altered, and merely bade Robina write hertestimony.
This took much longer, though the produce was much briefer. It wasonly--
MY DEAR ALDA,
Angela was only talking nonsense the other day. If I had not thought so, I would have told you.
Your affectionate sister, ROBINA B. UNDERWOOD.
'You've made a
letter of it!' exclaimed Angela. 'I thought it was to bea last will and--no, a dying speech and confession; which is it? Well,if that does not set it all straight, I can't tell what will!'
Cherry was a good deal perplexed by the testimony now she had obtainedit. She thought the matter over on her return, and ended by seekingMarilda; and with much excuse for Angela, putting it into her hands toshow to Alda. She felt it due to herself to make sure that Marilda sawit, such as it was.
Marilda undertook that Alda should see it. Geraldine watched andwaited. There was no apology to herself. At that she did not wonder.Was there any note of recall sounded to Ferdinand? Was Alda proud? orwas she in very truth indifferent, and unwilling to give up her excusefor a quarrel? or had she really relented, and apologized in secret?
It was strange to know so little, and venture so much less with her ownsister than could Marilda, whom, in their present stiff reserve, Cherrydurst not question.