Miss Marjoribanks

  _Chapter XV_

  This event was of far too much importance in the limited world of GrangeLane to pass over without some of the many commentaries which were goingon upon the subject coming to the ears of Miss Marjoribanks, who was theperson principally concerned. As for the Doctor, as we have alreadysaid, he was so far lost to a sense of his paternal duties as to chucklea little within himself over the accident that had happened to Lucilla.It had done her no harm, and Dr Marjoribanks permitted himself to regardthe occurrence in a professional point of view, as supplying a littlealterative which he could scarcely administer himself; for it is wellknown that physicians are seldom successful in the treatment of theirown families. He was more jocose than usual at breakfast for some daysfollowing, and, on the morning of the next Thursday, asked if everybodywas to come as usual, with a significance which did not escape the youngmistress of the house.

  "You know best, papa," she said cheerfully, as she poured him out hiscoffee: "if there is anybody who is ill and can't come, it must be yourfault--but I did not hear that any one was ill."

  "Nor I," said the Doctor, with a quiet laugh; and he could not helpthinking it would be good sport to see Cavendish come into thedrawing-room all by himself without any support, and make his appearancebefore Miss Marjoribanks, and do his best to be agreeable, with an awfulconsciousness of his bad behaviour, and nobody sufficiently benevolentto help him out. The Doctor thought it would serve him right, but yet hewas not sufficiently irritated nor sufficiently sympathetic to lose anyof the humour of the situation; and it was with a little zest, as forsomething especially piquant, that he looked forward to the evening. Asfor Miss Marjoribanks, she too recognised the importance of theoccasion. She resolved to produce that evening a new _plat_, which hadoccupied a corner of her busy mind for some time past. It was a crisiswhich called for a new step in advance. She sat down by the window afterbreakfast with various novel combinations floating in her creativebrain; and while she was revolving these ideas in her mind, Nancy camein with more than her usual briskness. It is true that Lucilla had herhousehold well in hand, and possessed the faculty of government to aremarkable extent; but still, under the best of circumstances, it was aserious business to propose a new dish to Nancy. Dr Marjoribanks'sfactotum was a woman of genius in her way, and by no means unenlightenedor an enemy of progress; but then she had a weakness common to manypersons of superior intelligence and decided character. When there wasanything new to be introduced, Nancy liked to be herself the godmotherof the interesting novelty; for, to be sure, it was her place, and MissLucilla, though she was very clever, was not to be expected tounderstand what came in best with the other dishes for a dinner. "Iain't one as goes just upon fish and flesh and fowl, like some as callthemselves cooks," Nancy said. "If I have a failing, it's for things assuits. When it's brown, make it brown, and don't be mean about thegravy-beef--that's my principle; and when it ain't brown, mind whatyou're a-doing of--and don't go and throw a heap of entrys and things ata gentleman's head without no 'armony. I always says to Miss Lucilla as'armony's the thing; and when I've set it all straight in my mind, Iain't one as likes to be put out," Nancy would add, with a gleam in hereye which betokened mischief. Miss Marjoribanks was much too sensiblenot to be aware of this peculiarity; and accordingly she cleared herthroat with something as near nervousness as was possible to Lucillabefore she opened her lips to propose the innovation. Miss Marjoribanks,as a general rule, did not show much nervousness in her dealings withher prime minister, any more than in her demeanour towards the lessimportant members of society; and consequently Nancy remarked themomentary timidity, and a flash of sympathy and indignation took theplace of her usual impulse of defiance.

  "I heard as master said, there was some gentleman as wasn't a-coming,"said Nancy. "Not as one makes no difference in a dinner; but I allayslikes to know. I don't like no waste, for my part. I ain't one ascalk'lates too close, but if there's one thing as I hates like poison,it's waste. I said as I would ask, for Thomas ain't as correct as couldbe wished. Is it one less than usual, Miss Lucilla?" said Nancy; and itwas Lucilla's fault if she did not understand the profound and indignantsympathy in Nancy's voice.

  "Oh, no; it is just the usual number," said Miss Marjoribanks. "It wasonly a joke of papa's--they are all just as usual----" And here Lucillapaused. She was thinking of the dish she wanted, but Nancy thought shewas thinking of Mr Cavendish, who had treated her so badly. She studiedthe countenance of her young mistress with the interest of a woman whohas had her experiences, and knows how little _They_ are to be dependedupon. Nancy murmured "Poor dear!" under her breath, almost withoutknowing it, and then a brilliant inspiration came to her mind. Fewpeople have the gift of interfering successfully in such cases, but thento offer consolation is a Christian duty, especially when one has theconfidence that to give consolation is in one's power.

  "Miss Lucilla, I would say as you've been doing too much, if anybody wasto ask me," said Nancy, moved by this generous impulse--"all thempractisings and things. They're well enough for young ladies as ain'tgot nothing else to do; but you as has such a deal in your hands----Ifthere was any little thing as you could fancy for dinner," said Nancy,in her most bland accents; "I've set it all down as I thought would benicest, allays if you approves, Miss Lucilla; but if there was anylittle thing as you could fancy----" "Poor dear, it's all as we can do,"she murmured to herself. The faithless could not be brought back again;but Ariadne might at least have any little thing she could fancy fordinner, which, indeed, is a very general treatment of such a case on thepart of perplexed sympathisers who do not know what to say.

  Lucilla was so excited for the moment by this unusual evidence of herown good fortune, that she had almost spoiled all by sitting straight upand entering with her usual energy into the discussion--but instinctsaved Miss Marjoribanks from this mistake. She lost no time in takingadvantage of the opportunity, and instead of having a fight with Nancy,and getting a reluctant consent, and still more reluctant execution ofthe novelty, Lucilla felt that she was doing that excellent woman afavour by naming her new dish. Nancy approved so thoroughly as to beenthusiastic. "I always said as she had a deal of sense," she saidafterwards triumphantly. "There ain't one young lady in a hundred asknows what's good for her, like Miss Lucilla." But notwithstanding thisfervent declaration of approval, Nancy, softened as she was, could notbut linger, when all was concluded, to give a little advice.

  "I wouldn't worrit myself with all them practisings, Miss Lucilla, if Iwas you," said her faithful retainer. "They're a deal too much for you.I've took the liberty, when all was cleaned up, to go on the stair andlisten a bit, and there ain't nothing to equal it when you're a-singingby yourself. I don't think nothing of them duets--and as for thatbold-faced brazen thing----"

  "Oh, Nancy, hush!" said Lucilla; "Miss Lake has a beautiful voice. Ifshe does not look quite like a lady, it is not her fault, poor thing.She has no mamma to set her right, you know. She is the best assistant Ihave--she and Mr Cavendish," said Lucilla sweetly; and she gave Nancy alook which moved the faithful servant almost to tears, though she wasnot addicted to that weakness. Nancy retired with the most enthusiasticdetermination to exert herself to the utmost for the preparation of thelittle dish which Lucilla fancied. "But I wouldn't worrit about themduets," she said again, as she left the room. "I wouldn't, not if I wasyou, Miss Lucilla, asking pardon for the liberty: as for having nomamma, you have no mamma yourself, and you the young lady as is mostthought upon in Carlingford, and as different from that brazen-facedthing, with her red cheeks----"

  "Hush, oh hush, Nancy," Lucilla said, as she sank back in her chair; butMiss Marjoribanks, after all, was only human, and she was not sodistressed by these unpolished epithets as she might or perhaps ought tohave been. "Poor Barbara! I wish she could only look a little bit like alady," she said to herself; and so proceeded with her preparations forthe evening. She had all her plans matured, and she felt quitecomfortable about that evening which all her friends were thinking wouldbe rath
er trying for Lucilla. To tell the truth, when a thing becamerather trying, Lucilla's spirits rose. Mr Cavendish's desertion was,perhaps, on the whole, more than compensated for by the exhilaration ofa difficulty to be encountered. She too began to forecast, like herfather, the possibilities of the evening, and to think of Mr Cavendishcoming in to dinner when there was nobody to support him, and not even acrowd of people to retire among. Would he run the risk of coming, underthe circumstances? or, if he came, would he prostrate himself as he haddone on a previous occasion, and return to his allegiance? This questionroused Lucilla to a degree of energy unusual even to her who was alwaysenergetic. It was then that the brilliant idea struck her of adjourningto the garden in the evening--a practice which was received with suchenthusiasm in Carlingford, where the gardens were so pretty. She put onher hat directly and went downstairs, and called the gardener to consulthim about it; and it was thus that she was employed when Mrs Chiley rangthe bell at the garden gate. If it had been anybody else in Carlingford,Lucilla would have led her back again to the house, and said nothingabout the subject of her conference with the gardener; for it is alwaysbest, as all judicious persons are aware, not to forestall these littlearrangements which make so agreeable a surprise at the moment; but thenMrs Chiley was Miss Marjoribanks's special confidant. The old lady hadher face full of business that bright morning. She listened to what heryoung friend proposed, but without hearing it, and said. "Oh, yes, mydear, I am sure it will be charming," without the very least notion whatit was she applauded. "Let us go in and sit down a moment, for I havesomething to say to you, Lucilla," Mrs Chiley said; and when they hadreached the drawing-room and shut the door, the Colonel's wife gave herfavourite a kiss, and looked anxiously in her face. "You have not beento see me since Monday," said Mrs Chiley. "I am sure you are not well,or you could not have stayed away so long; but if you did not feel equalto going out, why did you not send for me, Lucilla, my poor dear?"Though Miss Marjoribanks's thoughts at that moment were full of thegarden, and not in the least occupied with those more troublesomematters which procured for her Mrs Chiley's sympathy, she placed thekind old lady in the most easy chair, and sat down by her, as Mrs Chileyliked to see a young creature do. Lucilla's affairs were too importantto be trusted to a young _confidante_ of her own age; but even a personof acknowledged genius like Miss Marjoribanks is the better of some oneto whom she can open up her breast.

  "Dear Mrs Chiley!" said Lucilla, "I am quite well, and I meant to havecome to see you to-day."

  "My poor dear!" said Mrs Chiley again. "You say you are quite well foryou have such a spirit; but I can see what you have been going through.I don't understand how you can keep on, and do so much. But it was not_that_ that brought me here. There is some one coming to Carlingfordthat I want you to meet, Lucilla. He is a relation of Mary Chiley'shusband, and as she does not get on very well with them, you know, Ithink it is our duty to be civil. And they say he is a very nice man;and young--enough," said Mrs Chiley, with a look of some anxiety,pausing to see the effect produced upon Lucilla by her words.

  Miss Marjoribanks had not, as she once confessed, a very vivid sense ofhumour, but she laughed a little, in spite of herself, at the old lady'sanxious look. "Don't be sorry for me," she said; "I told you thatfortunately my affections were not engaged. I don't want any newgentleman introduced to me. If _that_ was what I was thinking of, Inever need have come home," Lucilla said, with a little dignity; andyet, to be sure, she was naturally curious to know who the new man, whowas very nice and young--enough, could be; for such apparitions were nottoo plentiful in Carlingford; and it did not seem in reason that anindividual of this interesting description could come out of ColonelChiley's house.

  "My dear, he is a clergyman," said Mrs Chiley, putting her hand on MissMarjoribanks's arm, and speaking in a half whisper; "and you know a niceclergyman is always nice, and you need not think of him as a young manunless you like. He has a nice property, and he is Rector of Basing,which is a very good living, and Archdeacon of Stanmore. He has comehere to hold a visitation, you know; and they say that if Carlingfordwas made into a bishopric, he is almost sure to be the first bishop; andyou know a bishop, or even an archdeacon, has a very nice position. Iwant to be civil to him for Mary Chiley's sake, who is not on such termsas we could wish with her husband's friends; and then I suppose he willhave to be a great deal in Carlingford, and I should like him to form agood impression. I want you and your dear good papa to come and meethim; and then after that--but one thing is enough at a time," the oldlady said, breaking off with a nod and a smile. She too had brought herbit of consolation to Lucilla; and it was a kind of consolation which,when administered at the right moment, is sometimes of sovereignefficacy, as Mrs Chiley was aware.

  "I am sure papa will be very happy," said Lucilla; "and, indeed, if youlike, I shall be very glad to ask him here. If he is a friend of yours,that is quite enough for me. It is very nice to know a nice clergyman;but as for being a young man, I can't see how that matters. If I hadbeen thinking of _that_, I need never--but I should think papa wouldlike to meet him; and you know it is the object of my life to pleasepapa."

  "Yes, my poor dear," said the Colonel's wife, "and he would behard-hearted indeed if he was not pleased; but still we must consideryou a little, Lucilla. You do everything for other people, and you neverthink of yourself. But I like to see you with nice people round you, formy part," Mrs Chiley added--"really nice people, and not thesepoor-spirited, ungrateful----"

  "Hush, hush!" said Lucilla; "I don't know such nice people anywhere asthere are in Carlingford. Some people are never pleased with theirneighbours, but I always get on so well with everybody. It is my goodluck, you know; and so long as I have you, dear Mrs Chiley----"

  "Ah, Lucilla!" said the old lady, "that is very kind of you--and youcould not have anybody that is fonder of you than I am; but still I aman old woman, old enough to be your grandmother, my dear--and we haveyour future interests to think of. As for all the vexations you havehad, I think I could find it in my heart to turn that ungratefulcreature to the door. Don't let her come here any more. I like yourvoice a great deal better when you are singing by yourself--and I amsure the Archdeacon would be of my opinion," said Mrs Chiley, with aconfidence which was beautiful to behold. It was true she had not seenher new hero as yet, but that only left her so much more free to takethe good of him and his probable sentiments; for to persons of frank andsimple imagination a very little foundation of fact is enough to buildupon.

  "Dear Mrs Chiley, it is so nice of you to be vexed," said Lucilla, whothought it as well not to enter into any further argument. "Papa will bedelighted, I am sure, and I can come in the evening. The Colonel likesto have only six people, and you will be three to start with, so therecan't be any room for me at dinner; and you know I don't mind aboutdinner. I shall come in the evening and make tea for you--and if youthink he would like to come next Thursday----" said Lucilla graciously.This was how it was eventually settled. Mrs Chiley went home againthrough Grange Lane in the sunshine, with that little old-womanishhobble which Mrs Woodburn executed with such precision, perfectlysatisfied with her success, and indulging herself in some pleasantvisions. To be sure, a nice clergyman is always nice to know, eventhough nothing more was to come of it; and a new man in the field ofsuch distinguished pretensions, would be Lucilla's best defence againstany sort of mortification. As for Miss Marjoribanks herself, she wasthinking a great deal more of the new details for the approachingevening than of anything else more distant, and consequently lessimportant; but, on the whole, she was by no means displeased to hear ofthe Archdeacon. In such a work as hers, a skilful leader is always onthe outlook for auxiliaries; and there are circumstances in which a niceclergyman is almost as useful to the lady of the house as a man who canflirt. To be sure, now and then there occurs a rare example in whichboth these qualities are united in one person; but even in the mostmodest point of view, if he was not stupid or obstinately Low-Church,there was nothing to despise in the apparition of th
e Archdeacon thussuddenly blown to her very door. While she had the seats placed in thegarden (not too visibly, but shrouded among the shrubs and round thetrunks of the trees), and chose the spot for a little illumination,which was not to be universal, like a tea-garden, but concentrated inone spot under the big lime-tree, Lucilla permitted herself to speculatea little about this unknown hero. She did not so much ask herself if hewould be dark or fair, according to the usage of young ladies, aswhether he would be High or Broad. But, however, that question, likevarious others, was still hidden in the surrounding darkness.

  This was how Mrs Chiley did her best to cheer up Lucilla in thediscouragement from which she supposed her young friend to be suffering.It was perhaps a loftier expedient in one way than Nancy's desire thatshe should have something she would fancy for dinner; but then therecould not be any doubt as to the kindness which prompted bothsuggestions; and, after all, it is not what people do for you, but thespirit in which they do it, which should be taken into consideration, asLucilla most justly observed.