CHAPTER XVIII.
OLD FRIENDS ON THE GREEN.
TOM SEDLEY saw the Etherage girls on the green, and instead of assistingas he had intended, at the great doings in the town, he walked over tohave a talk with them.
People who know Cardyllian remember the two seats, partly stone, partlywood, which are placed on the green, near the margin of the sea--seatswithout backs--on which you can sit with equal comfort, facing the waterand the distant mountains, or the white-fronted town and old Castle ofCardyllian. Looking toward this latter prospect, the ladies sat,interested, no doubt, though they preferred a distant view, in theunusual bustle of the quiet old place.
On one of these seats sat Charity and Agnes, and as he approached,smiling, up got Charity and walked some steps towards him! lookingkindly, but not smiling, for that was not her wont, and with her thinhand, in doe-skin glove, extended to greet him.
"How are you, Thomas Sedley? when did you come?" asked Miss Charity,much gladder to see him than she appeared.
"I arrived this morning; you're all well, I hope;" he was looking atAgnes, and would have got away from Miss Charity, but that she held himstill by the hand.
"All very well, thank you, except Agnes. I don't think she's very well.I have ever so much to tell you when you and I have a quiet opportunity,but not now,"--she was speaking in a low tone;--"and now go and askAgnes how she is."
So he did. She smiled a little languidly, he thought, and was notlooking very strong, but prettier than ever--so _very_ pretty! Sheblushed too, very brilliantly, as he approached; it would have beenflattering had he not seen Cleve Verney walking quickly over the greentoward the Etherage group. For whom was the blush? Two gentlemen hadfired simultaneously.
"Your bird? I rather think _my_ bird?--isn't it?"
Now Tom Sedley did not think the bird his, and he felt, somehow,strangely vexed. And he got through his greeting uncomfortably; hismind was away with Cleve Verney, who was drawing quickly near.
"Oh! Mr. Verney, _what_ a time it is since we saw you last!" exclaimedemphatic Miss Charity; "I really began to think you'd _never_ come."
"Very good of you, Miss Etherage, to think about me."
"And you never gave me your subscription for our poor old women, lastwinter!"
"Oh! my subscription? I'll give it now--what was it to be--a pound?"
"No, you promised only ten shillings, but it _ought_ to be a pound. Ithink less would be _shameful_."
"Then, Miss Agnes, shall it be a pound?" he said, turning to her with alaugh--with his fingers in his purse, "whatever you say I'll do."
"_Agnes_--of _course_, a pound," said Charity, in her nursery style ofadmonition.
"Charity says it must be a pound," answered Agnes.
"And _you_ say so?"
"Of course, I must."
"Then a pound it _is_--and mind," he added, laughing, and turning toMiss Charity with the coin in his fingers, "I'm to figure in your bookof benefactors--your golden book of saints, or _martyrs_, rather; butyou need not put down my name, only 'The old woman's friend,' or 'Alover of flannel' or 'A promoter of petticoats,' or any other benevolentalias you think becoming."
"'The old woman's friend,' will do very nicely," said Charity, gravely."Thank you, Mr. Verney, and we were _so_ glad to hear that your unclehas succeeded at last to the peerage. He can be of such _use_--youreally would be--he and you _both_, Mr. Verney--quite amazed andshocked, if you knew how much poverty there is in this town."
"It's well he does not know just now, for he wants all his wits abouthim. This is a critical occasion, you know, and the town expects greatthings from a practised orator. I've stolen away, just for five minutes,to ask you the news. We are at Ware, for a few days; only two or threefriends with us. They came across in my boat to-day. We are going to setall the tradespeople on earth loose upon the house in a few days. It isto be done in an incredibly short time; and my uncle is talking ofgetting down some of his old lady relations to act chaperon, and we hopeto have you all over there. You know it's all made up, that littlecoldness between my uncle and your father. I'm so glad. Your fatherwrote him such a nice note to-day explaining his absence--he never goesinto a crowd, he says--and Lord Verney wrote him a line to say, if hewould allow him, he would go up to Hazelden to pay his respects thisafternoon."
This move was a suggestion of Mr. Larkin's, who was pretty well up inelection strategy.
"I've ascertained, my lord, he's good for a hundred and thirty-sevenvotes in the county, and your lordship has managed him with suchconsummate tact that a very little more will, with the Divine blessing,induce the happiest, and I may say, considering the disparity of yourlordship's relations and his, the most _dutiful_ feelings on hispart--resulting, in fact, in your lordship's obtaining the absolutecommand of the constituency. You were defeated, my lord, last time, byonly forty-three votes, with his influence against you. If your lordshipwere to start your nephew, Mr. Cleve Verney, for it next time, havingmade your ground good with him, he would be returned, humanly speaking,by a sweeping majority."
"So, Lord Verney's going up to see papa! Agnes, _we_ ought to be athome. He must have luncheon."
"No--a thousand thanks--but all that's explained. There's luncheon to bein the town-hall--it's part of the programme--and speeches--and allthat kind of rubbish; so he can only run up for a few minutes, just tosay, 'How do ye do?' and away again. So, pray, don't think of going allthat way, and he'll come here to be introduced, and make youracquaintance. And now tell me all your news."
"Well, those odd people went away from Malory"--began Charity.
"Oh, yes, I heard, I think, something of that," said Cleve, intending tochange the subject, perhaps; but Miss Charity went on, for in thateventless scene an occurrence of any kind is too precious to be struckout of the record on any ground.
"They went away as mysteriously as they came--almost--and sosuddenly"----
"You forgot, Charity, dear, Mr. Verney was at Ware when they went, andhere two or three times after they left Malory."
"So I _was_," said Cleve, with an uneasy glance at Tom Sedley; "I _knew_I had heard something of it."
"Oh, yes; and they say that the old man was both mad and in debt."
"What a combination!" said Cleve.
"Yes, I assure you, and a Jew came down with twenty or thirtybailiffs--I'm only telling you what Mr. Apjohn heard, and the peoplehere tell us--and a mad doctor, and people with strait waistcoats, andthey surrounded Malory; but he was gone!--not a human being knewwhere--and that handsome girl, wasn't she quite _bee-au-tiful_?"
"Oh, what everyone says, you know, _must_ be true," said Cleve.
"What do _you_ say?" she urged upon Tom Sedley.
"Oh, I say ditto to everyone, of course."
"Well, I should think so, for you know you are quite desperately in lovewith her," said Miss Charity.
"_I?_ Why, I really never spoke to her in all my life. Now, if you hadsaid Cleve Verney."
"Oh, yes! If you had named _me_. But, by Jove! there they go. Do yousee? My uncle and the mayor, and all the lesser people, trooping away tothe town-hall. Good-bye! I haven't another moment. You'll be here, I_hope_, when we get out; _do, pray_. I have not a moment."
And he meant a glance for Miss Agnes, but it lost itself in air, forthat young lady was looking down, in a little reverie, on the grass, atthe tip of her tiny boot.
"_There's_ old Miss Christian _out_, I _declare_!" exclaimed Charity."Did you ever _hear_ of such a thing? I _wonder_ whether Doctor Lysterknows she is out to-day. I'll just go and speak to her. If he doesn't,I'll simply tell her she is _mad_!"
And away marched Miss Charity, bent upon finding out, as she said, allabout it.
"Agnes," said Tom Sedley, "it seemed to me to-day, you were not glad tosee me. Are you vexed with me?"
"Vexed? No, indeed!" she said, gently, and looking up with a smile.
"And your sister said----" Tom paused, for he did not know whetherCharity's whisper about her not having been "very strong"
might not be aconfidence.
"_What_ does Charity say?" asked Agnes, almost sharply, while a littleflush appeared in her cheeks.
"Well, she said she did not think you were so strong as usual. That wasall."
"That was _all_--no great consequence," said she, with a little smileupon the grass and sea-pinks--a smile that was bitter.
"You can't think I meant that, little Agnes, _I_ of all people; but Inever was good at talking. And you _know_ I did not mean that."
"People often say--_I_ do, I know--what they mean without intending it,"she answered, carelessly. "I _know_ you would not make a rudespeech--I'm sure of that; and as to what we say accidentally, can itsignify very much? Mr. Verney said he was coming back after thespeeches, and Lord Verney, he said, didn't he? I wonder you don't lookin at the town-hall. You could make us laugh by telling all about it,by-and-by--that is, if we happen to see you again."
"Of _course_ you should see me again."
"I meant this evening; to-morrow, perhaps, we should," said she.
"If I went there; but I'm not going. I think that old fellow, LordVerney, Cleve's uncle, is an impertinent old muff. Every one knows he'sa muff, though he _is_ Cleve's uncle; he gave me just one finger to-day,and looked at me as if I ought to be anywhere but where I was. I have asgood a right as _he_ to be in Cardyllian, and I venture to say thepeople like me a great deal better than they like him, or ever will."
"And so you punish him by refusing your countenance to this--what shallI call it?--gala."
"Oh! of course you take the Verneys' part against me; they are swells,and I am a nobody."
He thought Miss Agnes coloured a little at this remark. The blood growssensitive and capricious when people are ailing, and a hint is enough tosend it to and fro; but she said only,--
"I never heard of the feud before. I thought that you and Mr. Verneywere very good friends."
"So we were; so we _are_--Cleve and I. Of course, I was speaking of theold lord. Cleve, of course, no one ever hears anything but praises ofCleve. I suppose I ought to beg your pardon for having talked as I didof old Lord Verney; it's petty treason, isn't it, to talk lightly of aVerney, in Cardyllian or its neighbourhood?" said Sedley, a littlesourly.
"I don't know _that_; but I dare say, if you mean to ask leave to fishor shoot, it might be as well not to attack them."
"Well, I shan't in your hearing."
And with this speech came a silence.
"I don't think, somehow, that Cleve is as frank with me as he used tobe. Can you imagine any reason?" said Tom, after an interval.
"_I?_ No, upon my word--unless you are as frank to him about his uncle,as you have been with me."
"Well, I'm _not_. I never spoke to him about his uncle. But Shrapnell,who tells me all the news of Cardyllian while I'm away"--this waspointedly spoken--"said, I thought, that he had not been down here eversince the Malory people left, and I find that he was here for a week--atleast at Ware--last autumn, for a fortnight; and he never told me,though he knew, for I said so to him, that I thought that he had stayedaway; and I think that was very odd."
"He may have thought that he was not bound to account to you for histime and movements," said Miss Agnes.
"Well, he _was_ here; Mrs. Jones was good enough to tell me so, thoughother people make a secret of it. _You_ saw him here, I dare say."
"Yes, he _was_ here, for a few days. I think in October, or the end ofSeptember."
"Oh! thank you. But, as I said, I had heard that already from Mrs.Jones, who is a most inconvenient gossip upon nearly _all_ subjects."
"I rather like Mrs. Jones; you mean the 'draper,' as we call her? and ifMr. Verney is not as communicative as you would have him, I really can'thelp it. I can only assure you, for your comfort, that the mysterioustenants of Malory had disappeared long before that visit."
"I know perfectly well when they went away," said Sedley, drily.
Miss Agnes nodded with a scarcely perceptible smile.
"And I know--that is, I found out afterwards--that he admired her, Imean the young lady--Margaret, they called her--awfully. He never let meknow it himself, though. I hate fellows being so close and dark abouteverything, and I've found out other things; and, in short, if peopledon't like to tell me their--_secrets_ I won't call them, for everyonein Cardyllian knows all about them--I'm hanged if I ask them. All I knowis, that Cleve is going to live a good deal at Ware, which means atCardyllian, which will be a charming thing, a positive blessing,--won'tit?--for the inhabitants and neighbours; and that I shall trouble themvery little henceforward with my presence. There's Charity beckoning tome; would you mind my going to see what she wants?"
So, dismissed, away he ran like a "fielder" after a "by," as he hadoften run over the same ground before.
"Thomas Sedley, I want you to tell Lyster, the apothecary, to send asmall bottle of _sal volatile_ to Miss Christian immediately. I'd gomyself--it's only round the corner--but I'm afraid of the crowd. If hecan give it to you now, perhaps you'd bring it, and I'll wait here."
When he brought back the phial, and Miss Charity had given it with amessage at Miss Christian's trelliced door, she took Tom's arm, andsaid,--
"She has not been looking well."
"You mean Agnes?" conjectured he.
"Yes, of course. She's not herself. She does not tell me, but I _know_the cause, and, as an old friend of ours, and a friend, beside, of Mr.Cleve Verney, I must tell you that I think he is using her_disgracefully_."
"Really?"
"Yes, _most flagitiously_."
"How do you mean? Shrapnell wrote me word that he was very attentive,and used to join her in her walks; and afterwards he said that he hadbeen mistaken, and discovered that he was awfully in love with the younglady at Malory."
"_Don't_ believe a _word_ of it. I _wonder_ at Captain Shrapnellcirculating such _insanity_. He must _know_ how it really was, and _is_.I look upon it as _perfectly wicked_, the way that Captain Shrapnelltalks. You're not to mention it, _of course_, to anyone. It would be_scandalous_ of you, Thomas Sedley, to _think_ of breathing a _word_ to_mortal_--_mind that_; but I'm certain you _wouldn't_."
"What a beast Cleve Verney has turned out!" exclaimed Tom Sedley. "Doyou think she still cares for him?"
"Why, of course she does. If he had been paying his addresses to _me_,and that _I_ had grown by his perseverance and _devotion_ to like him,do you think, Thomas Sedley, that although I might give him up inconsequence of his misconduct, that I could ever cease to feel the samekind of feeling about him?" And as she put this incongruous case, sheheld Tom Sedley's arm firmly, showing her bony wrist above her glove;and with her gaunt brown face and saucer eyes turned full upon him,rather fiercely, Tom felt an inward convulsion at the picture of Cleve'sadorations at this shrine, and the melting of the nymph, which by amiracle he repressed.
"But _you_ may have more constancy than Agnes," he suggested.
"Don't talk like a _fool_, Thomas Sedley. _Every nice girl_ is the_same_."
"May I talk to Cleve about it?"
"On _no account_. No _nice_ girl could marry him _now_, and an apologywould be simply _ridiculous_. _I_ have not spoken to him on the subject,and though I had intended cutting him, my friend Mrs. Splayfoot was soclear that I should meet him just as usual, that I do control the_expression_ of my feelings, and endeavour to talk to him indifferently,though I should like _uncommonly_ to tell him how _odious_ I shallalways think him."
"Yes, I remember," said Tom, who had been pondering. "Cleve _did_ tellme, that time--it's more than a year ago now--it was a year inautumn--that he admired Agnes, and used to walk with you on the greenevery day; he _did_ certainly. I must do him that justice. But supposeAgnes did not show that she liked him, he might not have seen any harm."
"That's the way you men always take one another's parts. I must say, Ithink it is _odious_!" exclaimed Charity, with a flush in her thincheeks, and a terrible emphasis.
"But, I say, _did_ she let him see that she liked him?"
"_No_, of _course_ she didn't. No _nice_ girl _would_. But of course he_saw_ it," argued Charity.
"Oh, then she _showed_ it?"
"No, she did _not_ show it; there was _nothing_ in _any_thing she _said_or _did_, that _could_ lead _any_one, by look, or word, or act, toimagine that she liked him. How _can_ you be so _perverse_ and_ridiculous_, Thomas Sedley, to think she'd _show_ her liking? Why,even _I_ don't know it. I never _saw_ it. She's a _great_ deal _toonice_. You don't _know_ Agnes. I should not venture to _hint_ at itmyself. Gracious goodness! What a _fool_ you are, Thomas Sedley! Hush."
The concluding caution was administered in consequence of their havinggot very near the seat where Agnes was sitting.
"Miss Christian is only nervous, poor old thing! and Thomas Sedley hasbeen getting _sal volatile_ for her, and she'll be quite well in a dayor two. Hadn't we better walk a little up and down; it's growing toocold for you to sit any longer, Agnes, dear. Come."
And up got obedient Agnes, and the party of three walked up and down thegreen, conversing upon all sorts of subjects but the one so ably handledby Charity and Tom Sedley in their two or three minutes' private talk.
And now the noble lord and his party, and the mayor, and thecorporation, and Mr. Larkin, and Captain Shrapnell, and many othercelebrities, were seen slowly emerging from the lane that passes theGeorge Inn, upon the green; and the peer having said a word or two tothe mayor, and also to Lady Wimbledon, and bowed and pointed toward thejetty, the main body proceeded slowly toward that point, while LordVerney, accompanied by Cleve, walked grandly towards the young ladieswho were to be presented.
Tom Sedley, observing this movement, took his leave hastily, and, inrather a marked way, walked off at right angles with Lord Verney's lineof march, twirling his cane.