Miss Marjoribanks

  _Chapter XVI_

  That evening was one which all the people in Grange Lane had unanimouslyconcluded would be rather hard upon Miss Marjoribanks. To be sure, whena crisis arrives there is always a certain excitement which keeps oneup; but afterwards, when the excitement is over, then is the time whenit becomes really trying. There was naturally, under thesecircumstances, a larger assemblage than usual to watch the progress ofthe little drama, and how Lucilla would behave; for, after all, societywould be excessively tame if it were not for these personalcomplications, which are always arising, and which are so much betterthan a play. As for the Doctor himself, the portion of the evening'sentertainment which particularly amused him was that which preceded allthe rest--the reception given by Lucilla to her guests at dinner, andespecially to the culprit, who came in quite alone, and found nobody tostand up for him. Mr Cavendish, who felt to the full the difficulty ofhis position, and, to tell the truth, was a little ashamed of himself,came late, in order to abridge his trial as much as possible; butLucilla's habitual good-fortune was not confined only to her ownnecessities, but seemed to involve everybody opposed to her in aceaseless ill-luck, which was very edifying to the spectators. MrCavendish was so late that the other guests had formed into groups roundthe room, leaving a great open space and avenue of approach to the ladyof the house in the middle; and the audience, thus arranged, was veryimpatient and unfavourable to the lingerer who kept them waiting fortheir dinner. When he came in at last, instead of doing anything to helphim, everybody ceased talking and looked on in stern silence as thewretched culprit walked all the length of the room up to Lucilla throughthe unoccupied space which exposed him so unmercifully on every side.They all stopped in the middle of what they were saying, and fixed stonyeyes on him, as the dead sailors did on the Ancient Mariner. He had avery good spirit, but still there are circumstances which take thecourage out of a man. To be sure, Miss Marjoribanks, when he reached herat last, received Mr Cavendish with the utmost grace and cordiality, butit is easy to imagine what must have been the feelings of theunfortunate hero. The Balaclava charge itself, in the face of all theguns, could have been nothing to the sensation of walking through thathorrible naked space, through a crowd of reproachful men who werewaiting for dinner; and it was only after it was all over, and MrCavendish had safely arrived at Miss Marjoribanks's side, and was beingset at his ease, poor wretch, by her incomparable sweetness, that theDoctor, with a certain grim smile on his countenance, came and shookhands with his unfortunate guest.

  "You are late," Dr Marjoribanks said, taking out the great watch bywhich all the pulses of Grange Lane considered it their duty to keeptime, and which marked five minutes after seven, as everybody could see.It was ten minutes after seven by the pretty French clock on themantelpiece, and at least twenty by the lowering countenances of DrMarjoribanks's guests. Mr Cavendish made the best of his unhappyposition, and threw himself upon Lucilla's charity, who was the only onewho had any compassion upon him; for to see Mrs Chiley's forbiddingcountenance no one could have believed that she had ever called him "mydear." "Dinner is on the table, papa," Miss Marjoribanks said, with alittle reassuring nod to the culprit who had made her his refuge; andshe got up and shook out her white draperies with a charitable commotionfor which her faithless admirer blessed her in his heart.

  But the place at her left hand was not left vacant for Mr Cavendish; hehad not the spirit to claim it, even had he had the time; and theconsequence was that he found himself next to his brother-in-law attable, which was indeed a hard fate. As for Lucilla, she was quiteradiant when the famous dish made its appearance which Nancy hadelaborated to please her, and told the story of its introduction to hertwo next neighbours, in a half whisper, to their immense amusement."When the servants are gone I will tell you what we are laughing at,"she breathed across the table to Mrs Chiley, who was "more thandelighted," as she said, to see her dear Lucilla keeping up so well; andwhen the dessert was put upon the table, and Thomas had finallydisappeared, Miss Marjoribanks kept her promise. "I could not think howI was going to get her to consent," Lucilla said, "but you know shethought I was in low spirits, the dear old soul, and that it would be acomfort to me." Though there was often a great deal of fun at DrMarjoribanks's table, nothing was ever heard there to compare with thelaughter that greeted Lucilla's narrative. Everybody was so entirelyaware of the supposed cause of the low spirits, and indeed was soconscious of having speculated, like Nancy, upon Miss Marjoribanks'sprobable demeanour at this trying moment, that the laughter was not merelaughter, but conveyed, at the same time a confession of guilt and astorm of applause and admiration. As for Mr Cavendish, it was alarmingto look at him in the terrible paroxysm of confusion and shame which hetried to shield under the universal amusement. Miss Marjoribanks leftthe dining-room that evening with the soothing conviction that she hadadministered punishment of the most annihilating kind, without for amoment diverging from the perfect sweetness and amiability with which itwas her duty to treat all her father's guests. It was so complete andperfect that there was not another word to be said either on one side orthe other; and yet Lucilla had not in the least committed herself, orcondescended from her maiden dignity. As for Dr Marjoribanks, if he hadchuckled over it before, in anticipation, it may be supposed how heenjoyed now this perfect vindication of his daughter's capacity fortaking care of herself. The sound of the victory was even heardupstairs, where the young ladies at the open windows were asking eachother, with a little envy, what the men could be laughing at. There was,as we have said, a larger assembly than usual that night. For one thing,it was moonlight, and all the people from the country were there; andthen public curiosity was profoundly concerned as to how Lucilla was toconduct herself on so trying an occasion. The laughter even jarred onthe sensitive feelings of some people who thought, where a young girl'shappiness was concerned, that it was too serious a matter to be laughedat; but then Miss Marjoribanks was not a person who could be classedwith ordinary young girls, in the general acceptation of the word.

  It was when things were at this crisis, and all eyes were directed toLucilla, and a certain expectation was diffused through the company,that Miss Marjoribanks made that proposal of adjourning to the garden,which was received with so much applause. Lucilla's instinct, or ratherher genius, had warned her that something out of the ordinary course ofproceedings would be expected from her on that special occasion. Shecould not get up and make a speech to her excited and curious audience,neither could she, apropos of nothing, tell over again the story whichhad been received with such applause downstairs; and yet something waswanting. The ordinary routine did not satisfy Lucilla's constituency,who had come with the laudable intention of observing her on a tryingoccasion, and watching how she got through it. "The air is so deliciousto-night that I had some seats placed in the garden," Miss Marjoribankssaid, "and if you all like we will sing to you up here, and give you asmuch music as ever you please. You know I never would consent to be toomusical when everybody was in one room. It does not matter so much, whenthere are a suite; but then papa, you know, is only a professional man,and I have but one drawing-room," said Lucilla, with sweet humility. Itwas Lady Richmond to whom she was addressing herself at the moment, whowas a lady who liked to be the great lady of the party. "It is only insummer that we can be a little like you fine people, who have as manyrooms as you please. When you are at a little distance we will sing toyou all the evening, if you like."

  "But, my dear, are you sure you feel able for so much exertion?" saidLady Richmond, who was one of those people who did not think a younggirl's happiness a thing to be trifled with; and she looked with whatshe described afterwards as a very searching expression in MissMarjoribanks's face.

  "Dear Lady Richmond, I hope I am always able for my duty," said thatgentle martyr. "Papa would be wretched if he did not think we were allenjoying ourselves; and you know it is the object of my life to be acomfort to papa."

  This was what the searching expression in Lady Richmond's eyes elicitedf
rom Lucilla. The sentiment was perhaps a little different from thatwhich she had conveyed to her delighted auditors in the dining-room, butat the same time it was equally true; for everybody in Carlingford wasaware of the grand object of Miss Marjoribanks's existence. LadyRichmond went down to the garden at the head of a bevy of ladies, andseated herself under the drawing-room windows, and placed a chair besideher own for Mrs Chiley. "I am afraid that dear girl is keeping up toowell," Lady Richmond said; "I never saw such fortitude. All the youngpeople say she does not feel it; but as soon as I fixed my eyes on her Isaw the difference. You can always find out what a girl's feelings arewhen you look into her eyes."

  "Yes," said Mrs Chiley, with a little doubt, for she had been shaken inher convictions by the universal laughter, though she was a littlemystified herself by Lucilla's anecdote; and then she had never beengifted with eyes like Lady Richmond's, which looked people through andthrough. "She goes through a great deal, and it never seems to do herany harm," the old lady said, with a little hesitation. "It is such acomfort that she has a good constitution, especially as her mother wasso delicate; and then Lucilla has such a spirit----"

  "But one may try a good constitution too far," said Lady Richmond; "andI am certain she is full of feeling. It is sure to come out when shesings, and that is why I came to this seat. I should not like to lose anote. And do tell me who is that horrid flirting, disagreeable girl,"added the county lady, drawing her chair a little closer. By this timethe garden was full of pretty figures and pleasant voices, and under thelime-tree there was a glimmer of yellow light from the lamps, and on theother side the moon was coming up steady like a ball of silver over thedark outlines of Carlingford; and even the two voices which swelledforth upstairs in the fullest accord, betraying nothing of the personalsentiments of their owners, were not more agreeable to hear than therustle and murmur of sound which rose all over Dr Marjoribanks's smoothlawn and pretty shrubbery. Here and there a group of the older peoplesat, like Lady Richmond and Mrs Chiley, listening with all their might;and all about them were clusters of girls and their natural attendants,arrested in their progress, and standing still breathless, "just forthis bar," as young people pause in their walks and talks to listen to achance nightingale. And, to be sure, whenever anybody was tired of themusic, there were quantities of corners to retire into, not to speak ofthat bright spot full of yellow light under the lime-tree.

  "Nobody but Lucilla ever could have thought of anything so delicious,"was what everybody said. And then the two singers upstairs gave so muchscope to curiosity. "Do you think they are all by themselves?" LydiaBrown was heard to ask, with a little natural anxiety; and the livelierimaginations among the party set to work at once to invent impossibletortures which the soprano might inflict on the contralto. But, to tellthe truth, the two singers were by no means alone. Half the gentlemen ofthe dinner-party, who were past the sentimental age, and did not careabout moonlight, had gone upstairs according to their use and wont, andremained there, finding, to their great satisfaction, room to moveabout, and comfortable chairs to sit down in. They sat and chatted inthe corners in great content and good-humour, while Lucilla and Barbaraexecuted the most charming duets. Now and then old Colonel Chiley pausedto put his two hands softly together and cry "Brava!" but on the wholethe gentlemen were not much disturbed by the music. And then there werea few ladies, who were subject to neuralgia, or apt to take bad colds inthe head, who preferred being upstairs. So that if Lucilla had meant topinch or maltreat her rival, circumstances would have made itimpossible. Miss Marjoribanks did nothing to Barbara, except incite herto sing her very best; but no doubt she was the means of inflictingconsiderable pain on Mr Cavendish, who stood at a little distance, andlooked and listened to both, and perhaps had inward doubts as to thewisdom of his choice. Such was the arrangement of the personages of thesocial drama, and it was in this way that everybody was occupied, whenan event occurred which at a later period awoke much excitement inCarlingford, and had no small influence upon the future fate of some ofthe individuals whose history is here recorded.

  Everything was as calm and cheerful and agreeable as if Carlingford hadbeen a social paradise, and Miss Marjoribanks's drawing-room the seventhheaven of terrestrial harmony. The sky itself was not more peaceful, norgave less indication of any tempest than did the tranquil atmospherebelow, where all the people knew each other, and everybody was friendly.Lucilla had just risen from the piano, and there was a little pause, inwhich cheers were audible from the garden, and Colonel Chiley, in themidst of his conversation, patted his two hands together; and it wasjust at that moment that the drawing-room door opened, and Thomas camein, followed by a gentleman. The gentleman was a stranger, whom MissMarjoribanks had never seen before, and she made a step forward, as washer duty as mistress of the house. But when she had made that one step,Lucilla suddenly stood still, arrested by something more urgent than thearrival of a stranger. Mr Cavendish, too, had been standing with hisface to the door, and had seen the new arrival. He was directly in frontof Lucilla, so near her that he could not move without attracting herattention. When Miss Marjoribanks took that step in advance, MrCavendish, as if by the same impulse, suddenly, and without saying aword, turned right round like a man who had seen something terrible, atwhich he dared not take a second look. He was too much absorbed at thatmoment in his own feelings to know that he was betraying himself toLucilla, or even to be conscious that she was near him. His face wasmore than pale; it had a green ghastly look, as of a face from which allthe blood had suddenly been withdrawn to reinforce the vital centre insome failing of nature. His under-lip hung down, and two hollows whichhad never been seen there before appeared in his cheeks. MissMarjoribanks was so taken by surprise that she stood still, thinking nomore of her duties, but regarding in utter dismay and amazement the lookof dead stupefied terror which thus appeared so unexpectedly before her.Mr Cavendish had turned right round, turning his back upon a lady towhom he had been talking the minute before. But he was as unconscious ofdoing so as of the fact that he had presented the spectacle of hismiserable surprise and alarm in the most striking way to the one womanpresent who had a right to entertain a certain grudge against him.

  During this moment of unusual inaction on Lucilla's part, the strangerhad been led up to Colonel Chiley, and had shaken hands with him, andwas entering into some explanations which Miss Marjoribanks divined withher usual quick intelligence; and then the old Colonel roused himself upfrom his easy-chair, and leaned over to speak to Dr Marjoribanks, andshowed symptoms of approaching the lady of the house. All thesemovements Lucilla followed breathlessly, with a strange consciousnessthat only her presence of mind stood between her faithless suitor and areal danger. And as if to prove the difference, Barbara Lake chose thatmoment of all others to show her power, and made an appeal to MrCavendish and his taste in music, to which the unhappy man made noresponse. Miss Marjoribanks saw there was no time to lose. With afearless hand she threw down a great portfolio of music which happenedto be close to her, just at his feet, making a merciful disturbance. Andthen she turned and made her curtsey, and received the homage of MrArchdeacon Beverley, who had arrived a day before he was expected, andhad come to look after his host, since his host had not been at home toreceive him.

  "But you have broken your music-stand or something, Lucilla," said theColonel.

  "Oh, no; it is only a portfolio. I can't think what could make me soawkward," said Miss Marjoribanks; "I suppose it was seeing some one comein whom I didn't know." And then the old gentleman, as was his duty,paid the Archdeacon a compliment on having made such a commotion. "Weused to have the best of it in our day," said the old soldier; "but nowyou churchmen are the men." Miss Marjoribanks heard the door open againbefore this little speech was finished. It was Mr Cavendish, who wasgoing out with a long step, as if he with difficulty kept himself fromrunning; and he never came back again to say good-night, or made anyfurther appearance either out of doors or indoors. It is true that theArchdeacon made himself very agreeabl
e, but then one man never quitemakes up for another. Miss Marjoribanks said nothing about it, not evenwhen Mrs Woodburn came up to her with a scared face, and in fullpossession of her own identity, which of itself was an extraordinaryfact, and proved that something had happened; but it would be vain tosay that Lucilla was not much excited by this sudden gleam of mystery.It gave the Archdeacon an extraordinary and altogether unexpectedattraction; and as for Mr Cavendish, it was utterly inconceivable that aman in society, whom everybody knew about, should give way to such apanic. The question was, What did it mean?