CHAPTER XXII.
SPARE THE POOR CHILD'S BLUSHES.
It was Miss Peters who first spread the news. She heard it whispered atthe fishmonger's, spoken of aloud at the butcher's, and confirmed at thebaker's. She could doubt this combined testimony no longer, and hurriedhome to put on her best bonnet with the wallflowers in it, and go forthon a visiting tour.
Miss Peters was in the seventh heaven of delight. To have news, and suchnews, to convey, would make her a welcome inmate that afternoon of everyhouse in Northbury. She was intensely anxious to go out and convey hernews without being accompanied by her large sister, Mrs. Butler. In Mrs.Butler's presence Miss Peters was only a shadow, and she had no wish tobe a shadow on this occasion.
_She_ had heard the gossip, not Martha--why, therefore, should shetell Martha for the sole satisfaction of having it repeated by Martha inher own tiresome way to each neighbor she met, while she, poor MissPeters, who had really got the information first-hand--for the baker whoserved the two families with bread was so absolutely reliable--couldonly nod her head and roll her eyes in confirmation.
Miss Peters resolved, therefore, to tell her news to Mrs. Butler last ofall; and her object now was to slip softly out of doors without beingheard by her sister. She nearly accomplished this feat, but not quite.As she was going downstairs, with her best bonnet on, her lavendergloves drawn neatly over her hands, and her parasol, which was jointedin the middle and could fold up, tucked under her arm, she trod on atreacherous board which creaked loudly.
This was enough. Mrs. Butler popped her head out of the drawing-roomdoor and confronted the little spinster.
"Where now, Maria?" she asked. "Dear, dear, and I've been wondering whatwas keeping you all this time. Where are you off to? Why, I declare youhave on your visiting things?"
"I thought I'd just go round and see one or two friends, as theafternoon is fine," answered Miss Maria, in a meek voice.
"The afternoon fine!" retorted Mrs. Butler. Have we any but fineafternoons in the month of August? I don't feel disposed to visitto-day. The lobster salad I ate last night disagreed with me. I shallstay at home."
"Well, that's all right, Martha. I can take your compliments to any one,of course, and just mention that you are a little indisposed."
"_You_ take _my_ compliments? No, thank you. You'll just have thegoodness to take off your bonnet and come and sit in the drawing-roomwith me. I have had enough of my own company today, and I want you topick up some stitches in my knitting. Come, you needn't ogle me anymore. Go back and take off your bonnet and be quick about it."
Very slowly Miss Peters turned and went up the stairs. She took off herneat little chip bonnet, adorned with the sprigs of wallflower, foldedup her lavender gloves, and put back her heavily-fringed old-fashionedparasol in its case. Then she went down to the drawing-room; she sighedheavily as she did so. Poor thing; she had no money of her own, and wasabsolutely dependent on Mrs. Butler, who tyrannized over her as is theusual fashion in such cases.
The day was a glorious one, and from where Miss Peters sat she could geta splendid view of the bright and sparkling harbor. Little boats skimmedabout on its surface, and Miss Peters longed to be in one ofthem--anywhere away from the tyrannical sister who would not allow herto go out and disburden herself of her news.
That news, bottled up within her breast, almost drove the little womancrazy. Suppose the baker told some one else? He had promised not; butwho can depend on bakers? Suppose she was not the first to startle andelectrify her fellow town's people after all? She felt so fretted andmiserable that her sighs at last became audible.
"Well, Maria, you certainly are a lively companion!" exclaimed Mrs.Butler. "Fidget, fidget sigh, sigh, and not a word out of your lips!I'll thank you to hand me my knitting, and then you may read me achapter from that book of sermons on the table. I often think it's infine weather we should remember our souls most."
This remark was so startling that Miss Maria's grievance was forgottenfor a moment in her surprise.
"Why in fine weather?" she ventured to ask.
"Because, being prosperous and comfortable, they are like to sleepwithin us. Now, get the sermons and read. Turn to sermon five, pagefour, begin second paragraph; there's a telling bit there, and I thinkthe cap will fit your head."
Miss Maria was rising meekly to comply, when happening again to glanceat the blue bosom of the water, she uttered a shriek, threw down Mrs.Butler's knitting, caught up the spy-glass, and sprang to the window.
"Good gracious! Maria, have you gone mad?" exclaimed her sister.
"It is--it is--" gasped Miss Peters. "There they are! It's beautiful;and it's true!"
"What's beautiful, and what's true? Really, Maria, you are enough toturn a person crazy. What _are_ you talking about, and who_are_ you looking at? Give me the glass."
"Sister," said Miss Peters, "they're in a boat together. Out there inthe harbor. _Both_ of them! In a boat!"
"If they weren't in a boat they'd be drowned to a certainty," snappedMrs. Butler. "And who are they? And why shouldn't they be in a boattogether?"
"Look for yourself, sister--there they are! And beautiful theylook--beautiful!"
Mrs. Butler seized the spy-glass and tried to adjust it.
"Where?" she asked. "What part of the harbor?"
"Over there, just under the old Fort."
"My good gracious, Maria, you always do something to these glasses tomake them go wrong. I can see nothing. Who, in the name of charity, arein the boat?"
"Martha, it's a secret. I heard it to-day."
"Oh, you heard it to-day! And you kept it from your own only sisterwhose bread you eat! _Very_ nice, and very grateful. I'm obliged toyou Maria, I have cause to be."
"It was the baker who told me, sister."
"The baker? Hunt, the baker. And pray what had he to tell?"
"Well, you know, he delivers bread at the Meadowsweets."
"I neither know nor care."
"And at the Manor. He takes bread every day to the Manor, Martha."
"H--m--only his seconds, I should say. Well, this is all veryinteresting, but I can't see what it has to say to two people being in aboat on the harbor."
"Oh, Martha, you see the baker must know, and he told me for a positivefact. They're engaged."
"What! Has Hunt made it up with Gracie Jones? It's time for him. He hasbeen hanging after her long enough."
"Oh, sister, I am not alluding to anything plebeian."
"Well, my dear Maria, I'd be glad to know once for all to what you arealluding, for, to be frank with you, I think your brain is going fast."
"It's Bee," said Miss Maria. "It's our Bee. She's engaged. It's allsettled."
"Beatrice engaged? I don't believe a word of it."
"It's true. Hunt said there wasn't a doubt of it, and he ought to know,for he takes bread--"
"You needn't go on about the bread. To whom is Beatrice Meadowsweetaffianced?"
"To no less a person, Martha, than Captain Bertram, and there they arein a boat by themselves on the water."
Mrs. Butler snatched up the spy-glass again, and after considerabledifficulty, and some mutterings, focussed it so as to suit her sight.She was absolutely silent, as she gazed her fill at the unconsciousoccupants of the green boat.
After a long time she put down the glass, and turned to her sister.
"We'll go upstairs and put on our bonnets, Maria, I should like to goout. I want to call on the Bells."
Mrs. Bell had lately tried to connect herself with the outside world byadopting a few of its harmless and inexpensive little fashions. She hada day at home. This universal mode of receiving one's friends was notgenerally adopted in Northbury, but Mrs. Bell, who had heard of itthrough the medium of a weekly fashion paper which a distant cousin inLondon was kind enough to supply her with, thought it would be bothdistinguished and economical to adopt the system of only receiving herfriends on Thursdays.
She was laughed at a good deal, and considered rath
er upstartish fordoing so; but nevertheless, on Thursdays the friends came, being sure ofa good dish of gossip as well as sugared and creamed tea and home-madecakes in abundance.
On Thursdays Mrs. Bell put on every ring and ornament she possessed. Herone and only dark red tabinet--this was her wedding-gown let out anddyed--adorned her stout figure, and then she sat in her drawing-room,and awaited her company. Her daughters always sat with her, and they,too, on these occasions, made the utmost of their poor wardrobes.
Mrs. Bell was in particularly good spirits on this special afternoon,for rumors had as yet cast no shadows before, and the preceding eveningshe had been lucky enough to meet Mabel Bertram, and had almostextracted a promise from that young lady that she would come to herreception in the company of her gallant brother.
"Thank you, for Matty's sake," Mrs. Bell had responded to Mabel. "Mattywill be delighted to see you both,--delighted."
Mabel had gone home a little bewildered and a little amused, and Mrs.Bell felt herself altogether in high feather.
When Mrs. Butler and Miss Peters appeared on the scene there had alreadyarrived a fair sprinkling of guests. Mrs. Gorman Stanley who did most ofher eating at her friends' houses, was enjoying her second cup of tea,and asking Alice for the third time to pass her the sponge-cakes. Mrs.Morris, considerably wrapped up on account of her bronchitis, wasshivering by an open window, and Mrs. Jenkins and the two MissesJenkins, and Mr. Jones the curate, were also in the room.
The eldest Miss Jenkins had managed, for the first time, to establishherself in the vicinity of Mr. Jones, when the maid--no one kept twomaids at Northbury--threw open the door.
"Mrs. Butler, ma'am, and Miss Peters, ma'am."
Whereupon the two ladies, portentous with their great news, came in.
As they walked down the street Mrs. Butler had warned her sister not toleak out a word.
"_I'll_ tell," she said, with simple gravity which impressed.
"But it was _my_ news," said poor Miss Peters.
"I prefer to tell," said Mrs. Butler.
And Miss Peters was demolished.
Accordingly when they entered the room Mrs. Butler made straight for thesofa beside Mrs. Bell. She took her friend's hand, looked at hersolemnly, and said:
"How are you?" in a lugubrious voice.
Mrs. Bell assured Mrs. Butler that she was in excellent health, andMatty was called forward to administer the tea and cake.
Mrs. Butler also favored Matty with a portentous glance.
"Has that girl got over the cough which she was so troubled with a yearback?" she queried of the parent.
Mrs. Bell bridled at this. Never had her Matty looked stronger or moreblooming, and after all the cough so solemnly inquired after, just forall the world, muttered the poor mother, as if it were a graveyardcough, had been but the remains of the whooping cough.
"Matty blooms," replied Mrs. Bell. "Don't you, Matty, my love? I don'tsuppose, Mrs. Butler, you ever saw my girl looking better."
"I'm glad of it," said Mrs. Butler. "No more tea, I thank you, Matty.Well, then, as you are so pressing, just a tiny drop. You can put it onwhat's in my cup, if you like. Oh, yes, certainly more cream. I'mpartial to cream, if it's good. It agrees with me. It doesn't agree withMaria, so I never give it her. Well, as I was saying, I'm glad you arein good health, Matty, for a girl who has a real fine constitution canstand up against shocks."
"Shocks?" said Mrs. Bell. "I don't think we need talk of shocks at thistime of day, unless indeed, they are joyful ones. Matty, my love," hereMrs. Bell raised her voice to a high and penetrating key, "I wonder whenour dear friends the Bertrams will be here."
Matty blushed and giggled as only Matty could blush and giggle. PoorMiss Peters felt herself turning crimson. She ogled her eyes round ather sister, who rose solemnly and put down her cup and saucer.
The whole company had been impressed by Mrs. Bell's words. They ceasedto talk, they seemed to know something was impending, and Mrs. Butlerfelt that her hour had come. She cleared her throat and looked around ather audience.
"H--m! ladies, I have called here with a little piece of news. I daresayyou have not heard it yet, for it's fresh. It was told to me inconfidence, but my source is a most reliable one. What's the matter,Maria? Oh, good gracious, I see you are taking cream. You know how illcream always makes you. Will no one be kind enough to give Maria anothercup of tea? Well, ladies, I've come with news. We're to have a weddingsoon!"
Here Mrs. Bell, who had felt, as she afterwards expressed it, coldshivers going down her back, while Mrs. Butler was firing off herpreamble, now bridled and even blushed. It was a little premature,certainly, but reports always did a trifle exceed the truth, and, asMatty was so certain to be engaged immediately she could scarcely blameMrs. Butler for alluding to it prematurely.
She bent forward therefore and touched her friend on the arm.
"Spare the poor child's blushes," she whispered. "She's such a sensitivelittle thing."
"Spare whose blushes, my good friend? The girl isn't in the room. Do youthink I'd be so indelicate as to mention the sacred subject of thewedding before the bride-elect? No, no, Beatrice isn't by, unless she ishiding behind one of the window curtains."
At the word Beatrice Mrs. Bell felt her spirit sink down to zero. Shehad an insane desire to take Mrs. Butler by main force, and drag her outof the room. Poor Matty's blushes changed to pallor, and her hand shookas she pessed Miss Peters her creamless tea. Mr. Jones also, who hadbeen listening to the conversation in a half-hearted way suddenly felthimself turning very rigid and stiff, and the eyes which he fixed onDaisy Jenkins took a glassy stare as though he were looking through thatyoung lady into futurity.
Mrs. Butler liked to tell her news with effect and she felt now that shehad made a profound sensation.
"Good-bye," she said, holding out her hand. "I thought I'd drop in andtell you, as being old friends, but I must go on at once to congratulatedear Mrs. Meadowsweet. There's no doubt at all; Bee is engaged, and wesaw them just now in a boat at the other side of the harbor, all alone,and making love as hard as they could. It's a pretty match, and she's afine girl. Good-bye, Mrs. Bell; come, Maria."
"Yes," said Mrs. Bell. "Yes. Not that I believe a word of the story--youdidn't tell us the name of the--the future bridegroom--not that Ibelieve a word."
"Oh, yes, you do believe. Didn't I mention the bridegroom's name? Well,somehow I thought that went without saying. He's Captain Bertram, ofcourse. Good-bye, Matty. Come, Maria."
The two ladies disappeared, and the Bells and their other guests wereleft to face each other, and discuss the news.