CHAPTER XII.
AN INVITATION.
In the mean time Mr. Burmistone was improving his opportunities withindoors. He had listened to the music with the most serious attention; andon its conclusion he had turned to Mrs. Burnham, and made himself veryagreeable indeed. At length, however, he arose, and sauntered across theroom to a table at which Lucia Gaston chanced to be standing alone,having just been deserted by a young lady whose mamma had summoned her.She wore, Mr. Burmistone regretted to see, as he advanced, a troubled andanxious expression; the truth being that she had a moment before remarkedthe exit of Miss Belinda's niece and her companion. It happened oddlythat Mr. Burmistone's first words touched upon the subject of herthought. He began quite abruptly with it.
"It seems to me," he said, "that Miss Octavia Bassett"--
Lucia stopped him with a courage which surprised herself.
"Oh, if you please," she implored, "don't say any thing unkind abouther!"
Mr. Burmistone looked down into her soft eyes with a good deal offeeling.
"I was not going to say any thing unkind," he answered. "Why should I?"
"Everybody seems to find a reason for speaking severely of her," Luciafaltered. "I have heard so many unkind things tonight, that I am quiteunhappy. I am sure--I am _sure_ she is very candid and simple."
"Yes," answered Mr. Burmistone, "I am sure she is very candid andsimple."
"Why should we expect her to be exactly like ourselves?" Lucia went on."How can we be sure that our way is better than any other? Why shouldthey be angry because her dress is so expensive and pretty? Indeed, Ionly wish I had such a dress. It is a thousand times prettier than any weever wear. Look around the room, and see if it is not. And as to her nothaving learned to play on the piano, or to speak French--why should shebe obliged to do things she feels she would not be clever at? I am notclever, and have been a sort of slave all my life, and have been scoldedand blamed for what I could not help at all, until I have felt as if Imust be a criminal. How happy she must have been to be let alone!"
She had clasped her little hands, and, though she spoke in a lowvoice, was quite impassioned in an unconscious way. Her brief girlishlife had not been a very happy one, as may be easily imagined; and aglimpse of the liberty for which she had suffered roused her to asense of her own wrongs.
"We are all cut out after the same pattern," she said. "We learn the samethings, and wear the same dresses, one might say. What Lydia Egerton hasbeen taught, I have been taught; yet what two creatures could be moreunlike each other, by nature, than we are?"
Mr. Burmistone glanced across the room at Miss Egerton. She was a fine,robust young woman, with a high nose and a stolid expression ofcountenance.
"That is true," he remarked.
"We are afraid of every thing," said Lucia bitterly. "Lydia Egerton isafraid--though you might not think so. And, as for me, nobody knows whata coward I am but myself. Yes, I am a coward! When grandmamma looks atme, I tremble. I dare not speak my mind, and differ with her, when I knowshe is unjust and in the wrong. No one could say that of Miss OctaviaBassett."
"That is perfectly true," said Mr. Burmistone; and he even went so far asto laugh as he thought of Miss Octavia trembling in the august presenceof Lady Theobald.
The laugh checked Lucia at once in her little outburst of eloquence. Shebegan to blush, the color mounting to her forehead.
"Oh!" she began, "I did not mean to--to say so much. I"--
There was something so innocent and touching in her sudden timidity andconfusion, that Mr. Burmistone forgot altogether that they were not veryold friends, and that Lady Theobald might be looking.
He bent slightly forward, and looked into her upraised, alarmed eyes.
"Don't be afraid of _me_" he said; "don't, for pity's sake!"
He could not have hit upon a luckier speech, and also he could not haveuttered it more feelingly than he did. It helped her to recover herself,and gave her courage.
"There," she said, with a slight catch of the breath, "does not thatprove what I said to be true? I was afraid, the very moment I ceased toforget myself. I was afraid of you and of myself. I have no courage atall."
"You will gain it in time," he said.
"I shall try to gain it," she answered. "I am nearly twenty, and it istime that I should learn to respect myself. I think it must be because Ihave no self-respect that I am such a coward."
It seemed that her resolution was to be tried immediately; for at thatvery moment Lady Theobald turned, and, on recognizing the fullsignificance of Lucia's position, was apparently struck temporarily dumband motionless. When she recovered from the shock, she made a majesticgesture of command.
Mr. Burmistone glanced at the girl's face, and saw that it changed colora little. "Lady Theobald appears to wish to speak to you," he said.
Lucia left her seat, and walked across the room with a steady air. LadyTheobald did not remove her eye from her until she stopped within threefeet of her. Then she asked a rather unnecessary question:--
"With whom have you been conversing?"
"With Mr. Burmistone."
"Upon what subject?"
"We were speaking of Miss Octavia Bassett."
Her ladyship glanced around the room, as if a new idea had occurred toher, and said,--
"Where _is_ Miss Octavia Bassett?"
Here it must be confessed that Lucia faltered.
"She is on the terrace with Mr. Barold."
"She is on"--
Her ladyship stopped short in the middle of her sentence. This was toomuch for her. She left Lucia, and crossed the room to Miss Belinda.
"Belinda," she said, in an awful undertone, "your niece is out upon theterrace with Mr. Barold. Perhaps it would be as well for you tointimate to her that in England it is not customary--that--Belinda, goand bring her in."
Miss Belinda arose, actually looking pale. She had been making suchstrenuous efforts to converse with Miss Pilcher and Mrs. Burnham, thatshe had been betrayed into forgetting her charge. She could scarcelybelieve her ears. She went to the open window, and looked out, and thenturned paler than before.
"Octavia, my dear," she said faintly.
"Francis!" said Lady Theobald, over her shoulder.
Mr. Francis Barold turned a rather bored countenance toward them; but itwas evidently not Octavia who had bored him.
"Octavia," said Miss Belinda, "how imprudent! In that thin dress--thenight air! How could you, my dear, how could you?"
"Oh! I shall not catch cold," Octavia answered. "I am used to it. I havebeen out hours and hours, on moonlight nights, at home."
But she moved toward them.
"You must remember," said Lady Theobald, "that there are many thingswhich may be done in America which would not be safe in England."
And she made the remark in an almost sepulchral tone of warning.
How Miss Belinda would have supported herself if the coach had not beenannounced at this juncture, it would be difficult to say. The coach wasannounced, and they took their departure. Mr. Barold happening to makehis adieus at the same time, they were escorted by him down to thevehicle from the Blue Lion.
When he had assisted them in, and closed the door, Octavia bent forward,so that the moonlight fell full on her pretty, lace-covered head, and thesparkling drops in her ears.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "if you stay here at all, you must come and seeus.--Aunt Belinda, ask him to come and see us."
Miss Belinda could scarcely speak.
"I shall be most--most happy," she fluttered, "Any--friend of dear LadyTheobald's, of course"--
"Don't forget," said Octavia, waving her hand.
The coach moved off, and Miss Belinda sank back into a dark corner.
"My dear," she gasped, "what will he think?"
Octavia was winding her lace scarf around her throat.
"He'll think I want him to call," she said serenely. "And I do."