CHAPTER V.
LUCIA.
In this manner Slowbridge received the shock which shook it toits foundations, and it was a shock from which it did not recover forsome time. Before ten o'clock the next morning, everybody knew of thearrival of Martin Bassett's daughter.
The very boarding-school (Miss Pilcher's select seminary for youngladies, "combining the comforts of a home," as the circular said,"with all the advantages of genteel education") was on fire with it,highly colored versions of the stories told being circulated fromthe "first class" downward, even taking the form of an Indian princess,tattooed blue, and with difficulty restrained from indulging inwar-whoops,--which last feature so alarmed little Miss Bigbee, agedseven, that she retired in fear and trembling, and shed tears under thebedclothes; her terror and anguish being much increased by the stirringrecitals of scalping-stories by pretty Miss Phipps, of the firstclass--a young person who possessed a vivid imagination, and delighted inromances of a tragic turn.
"I have not the slightest doubt," said Miss Phipps, "that when she is athome she lives in a wampum."
"What is a wampum?" inquired one of her admiring audience.
"A tent," replied Miss Phipps, with some impatience. "I shouldthink any goose would know that. It is a kind of tent hung withscalps and--and--moccasins, and--lariats--and things of that sort."
"I don't believe that is the right name for it," put in Miss Smith, whowas a pert member of the third class.
"Ah!" commented Miss Phipps, "that was Miss Smith who spoke, of course.We may always expect information from Miss Smith. I trust that I may beallowed to say that I _think_ I _have_ a brother"--
"He doesn't know much about it, if he calls a wigwam a wampum,"interposed Miss Smith, with still greater pertness. "I have a brother whoknows better than that, if I am only in the third class." For a momentMiss Phipps appeared to be meditating. Perhaps she was a triflediscomfited; but she recovered herself after a brief pause, and returnedto the charge.
"Well," she remarked, "perhaps it is a wigwam. Who cares if it is? Andat any rate, whatever it is, I haven't the slightest doubt that shelives in one."
This comparatively tame version was, however, entirely discarded when thediamonds and silver-mines began to figure more largely in the reports.Certainly, pretty, overdressed, jewel-bedecked Octavia gave Slowbridgeabundant cause for excitement.
After leaving her, Lady Theobald drove home to Oldclough Hall, ratherout of humor. She had been rather out of humor for some time, havingnever quite recovered from her anger at the daring of that cheerfulbuilder of mills, Mr. John Burmistone. Mr. Burmistone had been oneinnovation, and Octavia Bassett was another. She had not been able tomanage Mr. Burmistone, and she was not at all sure that she had managedOctavia Bassett.
She entered the dining-room with an ominous frown on her forehead.
At the end of the table, opposite her own seat, was a vacant chair, andher frown deepened when she saw it.
"Where is Miss Gaston?" she demanded of the servant.
Before the man had time to reply, the door opened, and a girl came inhurriedly, with a somewhat frightened air.
"I beg pardon, grandmamma dear," she said, going to her seat quickly. "Idid not know you had come home."
"We have a dinner-hour," announced her ladyship, "and _I_ do notdisregard it."
"I am very sorry," faltered the culprit.
"That is enough, Lucia," interrupted Lady Theobald; and Lucia dropped hereyes, and began to eat her soup with nervous haste. In fact, she was gladto escape so easily.
She was a very pretty creature, with brown eyes, a soft white skin, anda slight figure with a reed-like grace. A great quantity of brown hairwas twisted into an ugly coil on the top of her delicate little head;and she wore an ugly muslin gown of Miss Chickie's make. For some timethe meal progressed in dead silence; but at length Lucia ventured toraise her eyes.
"I have been walking in Slowbridge, grandmamma," she said, "and I met Mr.Burmistone, who told me that Miss Bassett has a visitor--a young ladyfrom America."
Lady Theobald laid her knife and fork down deliberately.
"Mr. Burmistone?" she said. "Did I understand you to say that you stoppedon the roadside to converse with Mr. Burmistone?"
Lucia colored up to her delicate eyebrows and above them.
"I was trying to reach a flower growing on the bank," she said, "and hewas so kind as to stop to get it for me. I did not know he was near atfirst. And then he inquired how you were--and told me he had just heardabout the young lady."
"Naturally!" remarked her ladyship sardonically. "It is as I anticipatedit would be. We shall find Mr. Burmistone at our elbows upon alloccasions. And he will not allow himself to be easily driven away. He isas determined as persons of his class usually are."
"O grandmamma!" protested Lucia, with innocent fervor. "I really do notthink he is--like that at all. I could not help thinking he was verygentlemanly and kind. He is so much interested in your school, and soanxious that it should prosper."
"May I ask," inquired Lady Theobald, "how long a time this generousexpression of his sentiments occupied? Was this the reason of yourforgetting the dinner-hour?"
"We did not"--said Lucia guiltily: "it did not take many minutes. I--I donot think that made me late."
Lady Theobald dismissed this paltry excuse with one remark,--a remarkmade in the deep tones referred to once before.
"I should scarcely have expected," she observed, "that a granddaughter ofmine would have spent half an hour conversing on the public road with theproprietor of Slowbridge Mills."
"O grandmamma!" exclaimed Lucia, the tears rising in her eyes: "it wasnot half an hour."
"I should scarcely have expected," replied her ladyship, "that agranddaughter of mine would have spent five minutes conversing on thepublic road with the proprietor of Slowbridge Mills."
To this assault there seemed to be no reply to make. Lady Theobald hadher granddaughter under excellent control. Under her rigorous rule, thegirl--whose mother had died at her birth--had been brought up. Atnineteen she was simple, sensitive, shy. She had been permitted to haveno companions, and the greatest excitements of her life had been theSlowbridge tea-parties. Of the late Sir Gilbert Theobald, the less saidthe better. He had spent very little of his married life at OldcloughHall, and upon his death his widow had found herself possessed of asubstantial, gloomy mansion, an exalted position in Slowbridge society,and a small marriage-settlement, upon which she might make all theefforts she chose to sustain her state. So Lucia wore her dresses a muchlonger time than any other Slowbridge young lady: she was obliged to mendher little gloves again and again; and her hats were retrimmed so oftenthat even Slowbridge thought them old-fashioned. But she was too simpleand sweet-natured to be much troubled, and indeed thought very littleabout the matter. She was only troubled when Lady Theobald scolded her,which was by no means infrequently. Perhaps the straits to which, attimes, her ladyship was put to maintain her dignity imbittered hersomewhat.
"Lucia is neither a Theobald nor a Barold," she had been heard to sayonce, and she had said it with much rigor.
A subject of much conversation in private circles had been Lucia'sfuture. It had been discussed in whispers since her seventeenth year, butno one had seemed to approach any solution of the difficulty. Upon thesubject of her plans for her granddaughter, Lady Theobald had preservedstern silence. Once, and once only, she had allowed herself to bebetrayed into the expression of a sentiment connected with the matter.
"If Miss Lucia marries"--a matron of reckless proclivities had remarked.
Lady Theobald turned upon her, slowly and majestically.
"_If_ Miss Gaston marries," she repeated. "Does it seem likely that MissGaston will _not_ marry?"
This settled the matter finally. Lucia was to be married when LadyTheobald thought fit. So far, however, she had not thought fit: indeed,there had been nobody for Lucia to marry,--nobody whom her grandmotherwould have allowed her to marry, at least. There were
very few young menin Slowbridge; and the very few were scarcely eligible according to LadyTheobald's standard, and--if such a thing should be mentioned--toLucia's, if she had known she had one, which she certainly did not.