CHAPTER VI.
THE SLEEKS IN ARCADIA.
There had been a succession of battles royal between the Misses Sleekand their papa over the haymaking party. Mr. Sleek had drawn up a longlist of guests, among whom prominently figured the names of most of thegilded youth of the Stock Exchange. Sleek was determined at all hazardsto make what he called a "splash." He felt that in getting old Warrenderand his daughter to The Park, he was in reality receiving his passportinto county society. It had been gall and wormwood to the head of thefirm of Sleek and Dabbler to find that in King's Warren village, exceptamong the tradesmen whom he patronized, for no fault of his own, he hadremained a social pariah. In vain had he subscribed liberally to thelocal charities, the coal club, and the various other institutions ofthe place. He was annoyed that, when walking with young farmer Wurzel,village heads would be uncovered in every direction; and yet when he,Sleek, the head of a well-known firm, was alone, a surly nod or afraternal smile was the only recognition accorded to him. He wasnaturally anxious, then, that his haymaking and the subsequent danceshould be an important affair. But his daughters had manifested anobstinacy totally unexpected.
The family council of three had met in solemn conclave. Miss Sleek hadread to her father a long list of King's Warren people, and he hadcheerfully nodded his approval at each name submitted for hisapprobation.
"Can't be better, can't be better, my dear," smiled the father. "I don'tthink you've left a soul out. But we mustn't forget my friends. I tellyou what it is, girls, when I do a thing I like to do it well, and Imean to do this thing in style. None of your negus and stale spongecakes for me. I shall give 'em real turtle from Birch's, and as forfizz, they shall swim in it if they like. Dry Monopole for the men, andDuc de Montebello for the ladies; women hate dry champagne, they like itsweet, for it fizzes longer, and they don't care a hang for the head inthe morning. Montebello will suit the vicar's wife and the marriedladies down to the boots. There's nothing like fizz, it makes 'em all sofriendly; and as for music, I've secured Toot and Kinney. Kinney himselfwill come and conduct, and do the solos on the cornet. I'm going toarrange for a special, girls, to bring the whole party down and take 'emback to town at six a.m."
His eldest daughter suddenly put a stop to his enthusiasm by asking himrather coldly, "who the train was to bring down."
"Why, my friends, of course; who else?"
"But, dear papa, we don't know your friends, at least, many of them; andI'm afraid, and so is Connie," she added with a sickly smile, "thatperhaps they wouldn't amalgamate."
Much as King Lear looked when he first detected the real natures ofRegan and Goneril, so did Mr. Sleek gaze in horror on his two rebelliousdaughters.
"Bosh!" he exclaimed with indignation. "Do you mean to tell me thatafter romping together all the afternoon in the hay, and getting theirskins full of my champagne, they won't amalgamate, as you call it? Why,they'll be calling each other by their Christian names before suppertime."
But the sisters showed no signs of yielding.
"I tell you what it is, girls," said their father in anger, "you're apair of ungrateful minxes. Don't 'pa' me," he added at the duet ofdeprecation that followed. "My daughters are going to dance with alord," he continued with tragic fervour, "and their poor old fatherisn't good enough for them."
Mr. Sleek did not go to business that morning. A terrible ceremony thatlasted a good hour and a half was gone through. Mr. Sleek's list, whichhad originally contained over a hundred names, was shorn of its fairproportions, till but a little handful of the least objectionableremained. With the eloquence of a Cicero and the skill of anattorney-general, Miss Sleek "showed cause" against everybody. Though hefought hard he had to yield, for the girls were two to one. But he didnot give in without a struggle, and he fought loyally for the absentDabbler, but the girls were inexorable.
"Mr. Dabbler is too dreadful, papa. I'm sure he'd forget himself, and hewould insist on dancing."
Now both the Misses Sleek had a vivid recollection of poor Dabbler'sterpsichorean efforts at a certain Guildhall ball. Not contented withwalking through his square dances, as is the lazy custom now-a-days, Mr.Dabbler had _danced_ them with a vigour and ingenuity which would haveassuredly brought down the house at a transpontine theatre. Even at theGuildhall, Dabbler's style was peculiar to himself, and productive ofamazement and delight to all but his partners and those who figured inthe same set. Dabbler was a vigorous dancer. When he set to his partner,he performed a sort of cellar-flap breakdown; when he stood in themiddle of the quadrille while his _vis-a-vis_ advanced and retired withthe two ladies, he still continued dancing. "To dance implies that a manis glad," and Dabbler was a cheerful-minded fellow enough, but no ladydanced with him a second time. The eyes of the Misses Sleek flashed withunaffected rage and horror at the terrible remembrance of that dreadfulnight in the City.
There was nothing for it but to yield, and Mr. Sleek, when he had hadtime to cool, came to the conclusion that perhaps after all hisdaughters were right.
Romping among the haycocks may be very good fun, but the elaboratetoilettes in which he found his daughters arrayed on the eventfulafternoon effectually convinced him that the romping, if romping therewas to be, would be entirely confined to the few juveniles who gracedthe entertainment with their presence.
The house was turned inside out. The drawing-room floor had been dulychalked in elaborate devices; the staff at The Park, in new gowns, capsand aprons, was reinforced by an army of myrmidons from the City. Hugeblocks of ice decorated the dining-room, and Messrs. Toot and Kinney'sband already discoursed sweet music from the Italian summer-house. Theplump charms of his two daughters were freely displayed in elaborateParisian costumes, _merveilleuse_ dresses of striped satin; one girlaffected pink, the other sky blue. So resplendent was their appearancethat the proud father hardly recognized his two buxom daughters in theirgay attire.
But carriages, dog-carts and antediluvian flys began to pour into ThePark. Every lady on her arrival received a bouquet of hot-house flowers,every gentleman was presented with an elaborate button-hole of orchids.Not a single invitation had been refused. King's Warren and the regionround about had come to the philosophical conclusion that if Mr. Sleek,of The Park, was good enough for Squire Warrender, he was good enoughfor them. More than this, even those who had once passed the Sleek girlswith a condescending nod, or with their noses high in air, had deignedto intrigue for invitations; and in the hour of their triumph the girlshad not been ill-natured, nobody had been refused.
There was quite a crowd in the shady corner of the hay-field to watchthe so-called haymaking, a familiar sight enough to the King'sWarreners, and there _was_ romping among the haycocks. But the pastoralamusement was only indulged in by the children of the village school.Young Mr. Wurzel, in the shiniest of boots, yellow gloves, a pink tieand a white hat, his bride-elect, Miss Grains, upon his arm, looked onapprovingly, and it is not to be wondered at if the young fellow's eyedwelt, somewhat too long for Miss Grains' satisfaction, upon their younghostesses. The Reverend John Dodd, as usual, was surrounded by a throngof female worshippers, the party from The Warren was in full force, andit somewhat astonished the Misses Sleek to note that Georgie and hercousin were in ordinary afternoon muslin dresses. No doubt the Sleekfamily would have been more gratified if, instead of his brownbillycock, Lord Spunyarn had worn his coronet; he probably didn't travelwith it, however.
All went merry as a marriage bell.
"My dear young ladies, surely we ought to join in this," said theReverend Jack with a smile, addressing his hostesses, as he pointed tothe children who were pelting each other with the perfumed hay.
But the _merveilleuse_ costumes of the Sleek girls were better suitedfor looking on than for taking part in the actual performance.
"Oh, we should like it of all things, Mr. Dodd, but _we_ must reserveourselves. You see _we_ are almost bound to dance every dance, and thereis so much to do, and so much to see to. But if any one would like tomake hay we shou
ld be so pleased, and so would the children."
"You are not haymakers to-day, then, only shepherdesses looking afteran unruly and, I see, rapidly increasing flock. It's a very sweetpastoral, you only want your crooks to complete the picture. I, too, ama shepherd, you know; but a shepherd in black and without his crook issomewhat in the way. With your permission, then, I shall join thechildren," said the vicar with a smile.
"The crook will come in time, Dodd; you may depend upon it we shall seeyou a bishop one of these days, after all," laughed Haggardgood-naturedly.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Haggard," said a deep voice at his elbow, whichmade him start; "thank you so much for attempting to recall my poorhusband from this frivolous scene to higher things. My unhappy husband,Mr. Haggard," she added in a confidential whisper, "has no ambition.John Dodd, Mr. Haggard, is, I regret to say, a trifler. It has been thelabour of my life to try and withdraw his mind from frivolities, and tokeep him in the path which would ultimately lead him to what should bethe goal of every clergyman's ambition. Oh, if he would only try to be alittle more like my dear father. If he would only think less of carnalthings," and here the vicaress gave a snort and looked spitefully at theMisses Sleek, between whom the Reverend Jack still lingered.
The Misses Sleek were plump, the Misses Sleek were pretty, even if theywere a little over-dressed; but to call them "carnal things" was atleast unkind.
"Console yourself, dear Mrs. Dodd," said Haggard with a smile; "thevicar will be just as attentive to the school children in the hay as heis to our young hostesses now," he added with intention.
"Too well I know it, Mr. Haggard. And can there be a sadder sight thanto see the vicar of this parish romping in the hay with villagehoydens?"
Haggard's prophecy turned out to be correct, for the vicar threw off hiscoat and joined the children; and he, the greatest child of them all,was soon thoroughly enjoying himself.
Nearly all the ladies were accommodated with seats, all save the MissesSleek; they, poor girls, alas, could not sit. One can walk, flirt anddance in a _Merveilleuse_ costume, but it is next to impossible to sitdown in it. They bore their sufferings with fortitude, however, and,like the Spartan boy with his fox, concealed their agony.
And now the loud summons of a gong called everybody to the more seriousbusiness of the evening. A big marquee of striped canvas had beenerected; the guests trooped into it. Soon all the little tables werefilled, and everybody did full justice to the delicacies set beforethem. After standing in the sun a considerable time, the crowd was notsorry to eat and drink its fill. The eyes of bashful bucolic youthbegan to sparkle with the effects of Mr. Sleek's champagne; rosy cheeksgrew rosier; even the vicar's wife unbent; that blighted maiden, StaceyDodd, almost felt her hopes revive under the influence of _pate de foiegras_, and the immediate proximity of the squire. But, even in thecountry, people can't eat and drink for ever; and the marquee was atlast deserted for the superior attractions of the dance.
For that evening, at least, class distinctions were for once forgottenin King's Warren. Young Mr. Wurzel screwed his courage up so far as toask Miss Warrender to dance with him, while the vicar took out thevillage schoolmistress, and Mrs. Dodd herself condescended to waltz withher host. But after her toes had been trodden on three times in a coupleof rounds, she felt that she had already done more than enough; shedanced no more, and relapsed into her old position of tutelary goddess,or guardian angel, to society in general. Connie and her sister were ingreat demand, and the cup of their happiness was filled to overflowing,each having danced with the real live lord. Young Wurzel having doneenough for honour, did as engaged young men should, and stood up fordance after dance, as a matter of course, with the object of hisaffections.
"I can't dance as _she_ does," whispered the Village Rose in his ear;"but hold me tight and turn me round quickly, William," she added with asigh of satisfaction.
The young farmer did as he was bid, and owing to their united exertions,they were soon both the colour of a couple of peonies.
The big conservatory had been judiciously only dimly lighted by a fewChinese lanterns, and by common consent had been given up to the lazyphilanderers, who sought its leafy shades between the dances. ConnieSleek had volunteered to show the plants to Lord Spunyarn; they wereboth tired, and Connie in considerable trepidation managed to sit downin one of the dimly-lighted nooks, at his good-natured lordship'ssuggestion. Spunyarn, however, didn't make love to Connie, but the younglady felt that she had her chance, and she availed herself of it.
"I've been on my feet since four o'clock, Lord Spunyarn," she said, witha not unmusical sigh, "and I feel as if I could sit here for ever. Don'tyou?" she added.
What is an easy-natured young man to say under such circumstances? Givenan exceptionally substantial collation, warm weather, some dozen rounddances, and nothing particular to do, most men would have probablyreplied just as Lord Spunyarn did.
"With you, Miss Sleek? Well, do you know, I believe I could."
Connie Sleek's eyes sparkled like coals of fire. Visions of herself asLady Spunyarn presented at Court on her marriage, and patronizing herelder sister, flitted through her young and innocent but giddy brain.But his lordship's next remark rather damped her hopes; the descent fromthe sublime to the ridiculous is at times a little too sudden.
"By Jove!" said Spunyarn, "I should like to be one of these plants, andnever move out of my pot, with nothing to think of but to look forwardto the time when the gardener would come and syringe me. I wish he'dcome and syringe me now, don't you? _They_ seem to be enjoyingthemselves, don't they? Uncommonly, by Jove!" he added, looking towardsthe farther end of the conservatory.
The guileless Connie saw a pink mass in the dim shadows opposite her.The pink mass was evidently her sister. A small incandescent speck,which sparkled about a foot from where that sister's head would be,indicated her partner in enjoyment, also that the gentleman was smokinga cigarette.
"Why, it's Lottie. I wouldn't have her see me here for the world, LordSpunyarn. She's a dreadful tease, and I should never hear the last ofit," and here the young lady, exactly upon the principle of the ostrich,who is said to bury its head in the sand when it wishes to escapeobservation, unfolded an enormous blue fan which effectually screenedboth herself and her fellow criminal. If Spunyarn had sought a_tete-a-tete_, he had now got it with a vengeance.
Precisely the same feelings evidently animated the young lady in pink.She, too, unfurled a big fan. The conversation of both couples for thenext five minutes must have been interesting, for both fans, which wereoriginally used merely as screens, were frequently violently agitated.
No doubt, the conversation of both pairs was instructive as well asamusing. Both ladies evidently enjoyed the unhoped-for butwell-deserved rest. Had it not been for an unfortunate disturbinginfluence, who can tell but that Connie Sleek might have risen from thesettee Lord Spunyarn's affianced bride. When even a worldly-wise youngpeer occupies the half of a seat only intended for one person for fullyfive minutes, behind a big fan, beside a becomingly-dressed young womanof undoubted crispness, and who is not troubled with bashfulness, whocan say of what folly he may not be guilty?
But Providence willed it otherwise; for Mr. Sleek suddenly entered hisconservatory in a state of considerable excitement.
"Gals," he said--when excited, Sleek _pere_ always addressed hisdaughters as "gals"--"where on earth is Mr. Haggard? I've been lookingfor him everywhere."
The two men rose to their feet; the one behind the pink fan, not much toLord Spunyarn's surprise, turned out to be Haggard. But neither younglady moved; their dresses wouldn't let them, poor things.
"It's pa!" they both exclaimed in a sort of astonished chorus. "Oh, pa,it's so hot," said the elder girl, regaining her _aplomb_ at once. ButConnie, more indignant, only sighed; she felt, poor girl, that she hadhad her chance and lost it. There are moments in girls' lives when evena father is _de trop_.
"What is it, old fellow?" cried Haggard with unusual condescension as head
vanced.
"I've been looking for you everywhere, Mr. Haggard. Here's a telegramfor you. I hope it's no bad news," he added.
The two girls, with considerable effort and many an ominous crack,covered, too, with rosy blushes, perhaps from their exertions, had nowmanaged to regain their feet.
"Oh, I do hope it's nothing dreadful," said the elder girl with prettysympathy.
Haggard, as he tore the envelope open and read the telegram withdifficulty by the light of one of the Chinese lanterns, blurted out:
"By Jove! Shirtings, the poor old governor's dead."
There was considerable consternation. The Warren party hurried away, andthough dancing went on, the two young hostesses, perhaps in theirnatural grief for their friend's loss, joined in it no more.
As poor Connie wept herself to sleep that night in her sister's arms,she whispered her tale of sorrow into her ear. Her last words were,"Lottie, darling, I shall never, never forgive pa."