CHAPTER XIX. Containing both Love and Luck
At the next meal, when the family party assembled, there was not a traceof displeasure in Madame de Bernstein's countenance, and her behaviourto all the company, Harry included, was perfectly kind and cordial. Shepraised the cook this time, declared the fricassee was excellent, andthat there were no eels anywhere like those in the Castlewood moats;would not allow that the wine was corked, or hear of such extravaganceas opening a fresh bottle for a useless old woman like her; gave MadamEsmond Warrington, of Virginia, as her toast, when the new wine wasbrought, and hoped Harry had brought away his mamma's permission to takeback an English wife with him. He did not remember his grandmother; her,Madame de Bernstein's, dear mother? The Baroness amused the companywith numerous stories of her mother, of her beauty and goodness, of herhappiness with her second husband, though the wife was so much olderthan Colonel Esmond. To see them together was delightful, she had heard.Their attachment was celebrated all through the country. To talk ofdisparity in marriages was vain after that. My Lady Castlewood and hertwo children held their peace whilst Madame Bernstein prattled. Harrywas enraptured, and Maria surprised. Lord Castlewood was puzzled to knowwhat sudden freak or scheme had occasioned this prodigious amiabilityon the part of his aunt; but did not allow the slightest expression ofsolicitude or doubt to appear on his countenance, which wore every markof the most perfect satisfaction.
The Baroness's good-humour infected the whole family; not one person attable escaped a gracious word from her. In reply to some compliment toMr. Will, when that artless youth uttered an expression of satisfactionand surprise at his aunt's behaviour, she frankly said: "Complimentary,my dear! Of course I am. I want to make up with you for having beenexceedingly rude to everybody this morning. When I was a child, and myfather and mother were alive, and lived here, I remember I used to adoptexactly the same behaviour. If I had been naughty in the morning, I usedto try and coax my parents at night. I remember in this very room, atthis very table--oh, ever so many hundred years ago!--so coaxing myfather, and mother, and your grandfather, Harry Warrington; and therewere eels for supper, as we have had them to-night, and it was that dishof collared eels which brought the circumstance back to my mind. Ihad been just as wayward that day, when I was seven years old, as Iam to-day, when I am seventy, and so I confess my sins, and ask to beforgiven, like a good girl."
"I absolve your ladyship!" cried the chaplain, who made one of theparty.
"But your reverence does not know how cross and ill-tempered I was. Iscolded my sister, Castlewood: I scolded her children, I boxed HarryWarrington's ears: and all because he would not go with me to TunbridgeWells."
"But I will go, madam; I will ride with you with all the pleasure inlife," said Mr. Warrington.
"You see, Mr. Chaplain, what good, dutiful children they all are. 'TwasI alone who was cross and peevish. Oh, it was cruel of me to treat themso! Maria, I ask your pardon, my dear."
"Sure, madam, you have done me no wrong," says Maria to this humblesuppliant.
"Indeed, I have, a very great wrong, child! Because I was weary ofmyself, I told you that your company would be wearisome to me. Youoffered to come with me to Tunbridge, and I rudely refused you."
"Nay, ma'am, if you were sick, and my presence annoyed you...
"But it will not annoy me! You were most kind to say that you wouldcome. I do, of all things, beg, pray, entreat, implore, command that youwill come."
My lord filled himself a glass, and sipped it. Most utterly unconsciousdid his lordship look. This, then, was the meaning of the previouscomedy.
"Anything which can give my aunt pleasure, I am sure, will delight me,"said Maria, trying to look as happy as possible.
"You must come and stay with me, my dear, and I promise to be good andgood-humoured. My dear lord, you will spare your sister to me?"
"Lady Maria Esmond is quite of age to judge for herself about such amatter," said his lordship, with a bow. "If any of us can be of useto you, madam, you sure ought to command us." Which sentence, beinginterpreted, no doubt meant, "Plague take the old woman! She is takingMaria away in order to separate her from this young Virginian."
"Oh, Tunbridge will be delightful!" sighed Lady Maria.
"Mr. Sampson will go and see Goody Jones for you," my lord continued.
Harry drew pictures with his finger on the table. What delights hadhe not been speculating on? What walks, what rides, what interminableconversations, what delicious shrubberies and sweet sequesteredsummer-houses, what poring over music-books, what moonlight, whatbilling and cooing, had he not imagined! Yes, the day was coming. Theywere all departing--my Lady Castlewood to her friends, MadameBernstein to her waters--and he was to be left alone with his divinecharmer--alone with her and unutterable rapture! The thought of thepleasure was maddening. That these people were all going away. That hewas to be left to enjoy that heaven--to sit at the feet of that angeland kiss the hem of that white robe. O Gods! 'twas too great bliss tobe real! "I knew it couldn't be," thought poor Harry. "I knew somethingwould happen to take her from me."
"But you will ride with us to Tunbridge, nephew Warrington, and keep usfrom the highwaymen?" said Madame de Bernstein.
Harry Warrington hoped the company did not see how red he grew. He triedto keep his voice calm and without tremor. Yes, he would ride with theirladyships, and he was sure they need fear no danger. Danger! Harryfelt he would rather like danger than not. He would slay ten thousandhighwaymen if they approached his mistress's coach. At least, he wouldride by that coach, and now and again see her eyes at the window. Hemight not speak to her, but he should be near her. He should press theblessed hand at the inn at night, and feel it reposing on his as he ledher to the carriage at morning. They would be two whole days goingto Tunbridge, and one day or two he might stay there. Is not the poorwretch who is left for execution at Newgate thankful for even two orthree days of respite?
You see, we have only indicated, we have not chosen to describe,at length, Mr. Harry Warrington's condition, or that utter depth ofimbecility into which the poor young wretch was now plunged. Some boyshave the complaint of love favourably and gently. Others, when they getthe fever, are sick unto death with it; or, recovering, carry the marksof the malady down with them to the grave, or to remotest old age.I say, it is not fair to take down a young fellow's words when he israging in that delirium. Suppose he is in love with a woman twice as oldas himself; have we not all read of the young gentleman who committedsuicide in consequence of his fatal passion for Mademoiselle Ninon del'Enclos who turned out to be his grandmother? Suppose thou art makingan ass of thyself, young Harry Warrington, of Virginia! are there notpeople in England who heehaw too? Kick and abuse him, you who have neverbrayed; but bear with him, all honest fellow-cardophagi: long-earedmessmates, recognise a brother-donkey!
"You will stay with us for a day or two at the Wells," Madame Bernsteincontinued. "You will see us put into our lodgings. Then you can returnto Castlewood and the partridge-shooting, and all the fine things whichyou and my lord are to study together."
Harry bowed an acquiescence. A whole week of heaven! Life was notaltogether a blank, then.
"And as there is sure to be plenty of company at the Wells, I shall beable to present you," the lady graciously added.
"Company! ah! I shan't need company," sighed out Harry. "I mean that Ishall be quite contented in the company of you two ladies," he added,eagerly; and no doubt Mr. Will wondered at his cousin's taste.
As this was to be the last night of cousin Harry's present visit toCastlewood, cousin Will suggested that he, and his reverence, andWarrington should meet at the quarters of the latter and make upaccounts, to which process, Harry, being a considerable winner in hisplay transactions with the two gentlemen, had no objection. Accordingly,when the ladies retired for the night, and my lord withdrew--as hiscustom was--to his own apartments, the three gentlemen all foundthemselves assembled in Mr. Harry's little room before the punch-bowl,which was Will's usua
l midnight companion.
But Will's method of settling accounts was by producing a couple offresh packs of cards, and offering to submit Harry's debt to the processof being doubled or acquitted. The poor chaplain had no more ready cashthan Lord Castlewood's younger brother. Harry Warrington wanted to winthe money of neither. Would he give pain to the brother of his adoredMaria, or allow any one of her near kinsfolk to tax him with any want ofgenerosity or forbearance? He was ready to give them their revenge, asthe gentlemen proposed. Up to midnight he would play with them for whatstakes they chose to name. And so they set to work, and the dice-box wasrattled and the cards shuffled and dealt.
Very likely he did not think about the cards at all. Very likely he wasthinking;--"At this moment, my beloved one is sitting with her beauteousgolden locks outspread under the fingers of her maid. Happy maid! Nowshe is on her knees, the sainted creature, addressing prayers to thatHeaven which is the abode of angels like her. Now she has sunk to restbehind her damask curtains. Oh, bless, bless her!" "You double us allround? I will take a card upon each of my two. Thank you, that willdo--a ten--now, upon the other, a queen,--two natural vingt-et-uns, andas you doubled us you owe me so-and-so."
I imagine volleys of oaths from Mr. William, and brisk pattering ofimprecations from his reverence, at the young Virginian's luck. He wonbecause he did not want to win. Fortune, that notoriously coquettishjade, came to him, because he was thinking of another nymph, whopossibly was as fickle. Will and the chaplain may have played againsthim, solicitous constantly to increase their stakes, and supposing thatthe wealthy Virginian wished to let them recover all their losings. Butthis was by no means Harry Warrington's notion. When he was at home hehad taken a part in scores of such games as these (whereby we may be ledto suppose that he kept many little circumstances of his life mum fromhis lady mother), and had learned to play and pay. And as he practisedfair play towards his friends he expected it from them in return.
"The luck does seem to be with me, cousin," he said, in reply to somemore oaths and growls of Will, "and I am sure I do not want to press it;but you don't suppose I'm going to be such a fool as to fling it awayaltogether? I have quite a heap of your promises on paper by this time.If we are to go on playing, let us have the dollars on the table, if youplease; or, if not the money, the worth of it."
"Always the way with you rich men," grumbled Will. "Never lend except onsecurity--always win because you are rich."
"Faith, cousin, you have been of late for ever flinging my riches intomy face. I have enough for my wants and for my creditors."
"Oh, that we could all say as much!" groaned the chaplain. "How happywe, and how happy the duns would be! What have we got to play againstour conqueror? There is my new gown, Mr. Warrington. Will you set mefive pieces against it? I have but to preach in stuff if I lose. Stop! Ihave a Chrysostom, a Foxe's Martyrs, a Baker's Chronicle, and a cow andher calf. What shall we set against these?"
"I will bet one of cousin Will's notes for twenty pounds," cried Mr.Warrington, producing one of those documents.
"Or I have my brown mare, and will back her red against your honour'snotes of hand, but against ready money."
"I have my horse. I will back my horse against you for fifty," bawls outWill.
Harry took the offers of both gentlemen. In the course of ten minutesthe horse and the bay mare had both changed owners. Cousin William sworemore fiercely than ever. The parson dashed his wig to the ground,and emulated his pupil in the loudness of his objurgations. Mr. HarryWarrington was quite calm, and not the least elated by his triumph.They had asked him to play, and he had played. He knew he should win. Obeloved slumbering angel! he thought, am I not sure of victory when youare kind to me? He was looking out from his window towards the casementon the opposite side of the court, which he knew to be hers. He hadforgot about his victims and their groans, and ill-luck, ere theycrossed the court. Under yonder brilliant flickering star, behind yondercasement where the lamp was burning faintly, was his joy, and heart, andtreasure.