CHAPTER XXIV.
EVENTS MOVE APACE.
Mrs. Bell was very successful in her purchase of plums. In her way shewas a notable housewife, and she returned home about eight o'clock thatevening with a large basket of greengages, which were all to be boileddown for preserving the following day.
As soon as she entered the house the maid came to meet her.
"You take these carefully down and put them in the larder, Hannah," saidher mistress. "Be careful you don't knock any of them, or the bloom willgo off. Why what's the matter, girl? Is Miss Matty worse?"
"Lor, no, ma'am. Miss Matty is up, and out a-pleasuring, ma'am. But ifyou please, there's a visitor in the drawing-room who would like to havea word with you the minute you come in."
"A visitor?"
Mrs Bell felt her heart beat. The Northbury people did not stand onceremony with each other, nor wait in each other's drawing-rooms, forthe return of an absent hostess. A wild idea came across Mrs. Bell'sbrain. Could Captain Bertram have quarrelled with Beatrice, and comeback to Matty, his first and only true love.
"A visitor? Male or female?" she inquired of the girl.
"A lady, ma'am. Dressed most elegant."
"Dear, dear, dear! Then I suppose I must see her, and I so dead beat!She didn't give her name, did she, Hannah?"
"No, ma'am. But she have been a-setting in the drawing-room for over anhour."
"And Miss Matty, you say, is out!"
"Oh, yes, ma'am; a-pleasuring in her shot silk, and the open-workedstockings you ironed up a fortnight back."
"Well, I feel bothered altogether, but I must go and see this visitor."
Accordingly Mrs. Bell entered her drawing-room, where she was instantlyconfronted by a tall girl who greeted her with warmth, flashed herbrilliant eyes into her face, subjugated her in a moment, and then madea bold request.
"My name is Josephine Hart. About a month ago I took rooms at theTesters. I find Mrs. Bertram has forbidden them to receive me again. Idon't know where to go, as I am not acquainted with Northbury, but I canpay for good rooms. Can you recommend any?"
"My dear child, now let me think. The place is packed just atpresent--simply packed. Dear, dear! I have heard of you, Miss Hart. Andso Mrs. Bertram doesn't like you?"
"No, she hates me."
"Well, I'm sure. You don't look like a young lady to be hated."
"No one else hates me, Mrs. Bell, but she does, because she has areason. I have come back to Northbury on purpose to make heruncomfortable, and I must stay."
"So you shall, my dear. I applaud a girl with spirit. And so you hateMrs. Bertram? And you have a spite against her with reason. Well, I mayas well own that I don't love her, having good cause not to do so. Shehas been the means of breaking my young daughter's heart. My child iseven now lying on her bed of--" but here Mrs. Bell remembered whatHannah had said about the shot silk, and the open-worked stockings."I wish I could help you, my dear young lady," she said.
"I was hoping you would help me. Might I not come and live with youhere? I would pay you well."
Mrs. Bell started and blushed. Caste was a very marked feature inNorthbury society, and between the people who let lodgings for money,and those who lived genteelly on their means was a great and awful gulf.No people were poorer in their way than the Bells, and no one would havemore dearly liked to add to her little store of this world's pelf thanwould poor Mrs. Bell. She could scarcely afford to take a fashionablegirl in for nothing, and yet--dared she accept payment? Bell, if heknew, would never forgive her, and, as to the town, it would simply cuther dead.
The tall girl who was watching Mrs. Bell's face seemed, however, to beable to read her through. She spoke in a moment in a very gentle andpleading voice:
"I understand your position; you are a lady, and you don't like toaccept money."
"I couldn't do it, my dear. I couldn't really; Bell, he'd take on awful.It isn't the custom in Northbury, Miss--Miss Hart."
"And I couldn't come to you without paying. Now, suppose you and Imanaged it between us and nobody knew."
"Oh, Miss Hart, I'd be terrified. These things always leak out, they doreally."
"Not if they are properly managed. You might leave that part to me. Andyou need not name any sum. I shall see that all your expenses arecovered. Have you a private cupboard in your bedroom? Unlock it everyMonday. That's all you need do. You can give out to all your friendsthat you have received me as a visitor, because you were kind to me, andI wanted to come back to Northbury so badly."
After considerable more parley on both sides, the matter was arranged,and who more cheerful than Mrs. Bell as she tripped upstairs to prepareMatty's room for her guest. She was quite obliged to Matty now forhaving left her bed, for the thought of that little secret hoard, whichMonday by Monday she might collect, and no one be the wiser, had filledher heart with rejoicing. So she helped Hannah to spread Josephine's bedwith her finest linen sheets, and altogether she made the little chambercosy and pleasant for its new inmate. All signs of poor Matty's illnesswere removed, and that young lady's possessions were hastily carriedinto her sisters' joint bedroom. Here they would be anything but wantedor appreciated but what cared Mrs. Bell for that?
Mrs. Meadowsweet, meanwhile, was having a somewhat exciting time.Beatrice was engaged. That event had taken place which the widow hadonly thought about as a distant and possible contingency. CaptainBertram had himself come to his future mother-in-law, and said a fewwords with such grace and real feeling that the old lady's warm heartwas touched. She laid her hands within those of the handsome lad, andblessed him, and kissed him.
She was not a woman who could see far beneath the surface, and shethought Loftus Bertram worthy even of Beatrice. Beatrice herself saidvery little on the subject.
"Yes, I will marry him," she said once to her mother. "I have made up mymind, and I will do it. They want the wedding to be soon. Let it besoon. Where's the use of lingering over these things."
"You speak somehow, Trixie, I mean Bee, my girl, as if youdidn't--didn't quite like it," said the mother, then a trace of anxietycoming into her smooth, contented voice: "You shan't have him, I mean heshan't have you, unless you want him with your whole heart, Bee, mydarling."
"Mother," said Beatrice, kneeling down by her, and putting her armsround her neck, "it is not given to all girls to want a thing with theirwhole heart. I have always been happy, always filled, always content.Therefore I go away without any special sense of rejoicing. But oh, notunhappily--oh, far from that."
"You're sure, Trixie--you are speaking the whole truth to your ownmother? Your words are sober to belong to a young girl who is soon to bea bride. Somehow I wasn't like that when your father came for me."
"No two girls are alike, mother. I speak the sober truth, the plain,honest truth, when I tell you that I am happy. Still, my happiness isnot unmixed when I think of leaving you."
"Hoots-toots, child, I'll do well enough. Jane will look after me, andthat nice little friend of yours, Catherine, will come and cheer me upnow and then. I shall have lots to do, too, this autumn, for I'm goingto have all the chintzes recalendered, and the carpets taken up anddarned in the weak places, and there are some sheets to be cut down themiddle and sewn up again. I won't have breathing-time, let alonehalf-hours for fretting. So the thought of the old mother needn'ttrouble you, my dearie dear. And the captain has promised to bring youback as soon as ever he can get fresh leave, so I can look forward tothat, if I have a minute of time to look forward at all."
Beatrice smiled and kissed her mother.
"I don't think any one ever had a dearer mother than you are," she said,"or a more unselfish one."
"Oh, now, my pet," replied the crafty old lady, "you know you'd changeme for Mrs. Bertram any day; she's so stylish, Bee, and so--so genteel,darling. You know I never did aim at being genteel. I alwaysacknowledged that I was a step below your father and you."
"Hush! You were a step below no one. You stand on a pinnacle which noother mother ca
n reach, as far as I am concerned. Compare you with Mrs.Bertram indeed!"
Here Beatrice tried to look scornful. The expression was so foreign toher face that her mother absolutely laughed and chuckled. Of course, shehad meant Bee to say the kind of thing she had said; it was balm to theold lady to hear such words from her beautiful child.
Up at the Manor now everything went smoothly. Mrs. Bertram was inperfect health, and perfect spirits. The bustle of a coming weddingexcited and pleased the girls. There was that fuss about the place whichgenerally precedes an event of rejoicing. Such fuss was delicious toCatherine and Mabel. Captain Bertram not only looked perfectly happy,but all his best qualities appeared now on the surface. New springs offeeling, depths hitherto untouched, had been awakened by Beatrice. Shehad a power over this young man; she could arouse all the latentnobility which he possessed. He thought he was very much in love withher; he certainly did care for her, but more as his guardian-angel thanwith the passionate love he might offer to a wife. He made all sorts ofgood resolves when he was with Beatrice, and these resolves grew intohis face, and made it look pleasant, and touched it with a light neverbefore seen there, and strengthened it with a touch which banished fora time the evil lines of irresolution and weakness.
Captain Bertram had made up his mind--he had been rarely blessed--he wasunworthy, but a treasure of good price had been vouchsafed to him. Hewould live worthy of her. He would cast away the useless life of thepast; he would cease to be extravagant--his debts should be wiped offand never incurred again. He would be honorable, true--a gentleman inevery sense of the word--the girl who was lowly born, but whose heartwas so patrician, and whose spirit was so loyal, should guide him in allthings.
Captain Bertram had only one uncomfortable corner in his heart justthen. He had one little secret chamber which he kept locked, and intowhich, even in spirit, he never cared to enter. Men, when they areturning over new leaves, often keep this little reserve-room of the pastuncleaned, unpurified. All else shall be swept and garnished, but thisroom, carefully locked, can reveal no secrets. From its door the ghostof past evil-doing can surely not escape to confront and destroy. SoCaptain Bertram thought. He must forget Josephine; the wrong he had doneher, the vows he had made to her, could never be washed out or forgiven,but in all else he would be perfect in the future.
Before he returned to Northbury for the express purpose of wooing andwinning Beatrice Meadowsweet, he had written to Josephine. In his letterhe had promised to marry her; he had promised to confide all about herto his mother. He said he should be at home for a month, and during thatmonth he would watch his opportunity and break the news of hisengagement to Josephine to his parent. He had asked Josephine to givehim a month to do this in, and he had begged of her to leave Northburyfor the time, assuring her that her presence at his mother's gates wouldbe highly detrimental to their mutual interests.
Josephine had departed, and Bertram, after the fashion of men of hisclass, had almost forgotten her existence in his pursuit of a new quest.
Now he was engaged, and his wedding-bells would soon ring. If thethought of Josephine Hart did flash now and then before his mentalvision, he could only hope devoutly that she would learn nothing of hisbetrothal to Beatrice until after their marriage. "She may appear then,and I may have to tell Bee everything," he soliloquized. "Well, well,Bee could not be hard on a fellow, and we will both do what we can forpoor Josephine. No doubt I should not have made her a good husband--nodoubt, no doubt! Poor child--poor, beautiful child." But as he said thewords under his breath, Captain Bertram felt his heart beat hard andfast. "My God--I love her madly--I must not think of her at all," hemurmured. "I must not; I dare not!" He was uncomfortable, and evendepressed, after these musings; and he was determined to keep the doorof that chamber within him where Josephine dwelt more firmly locked thanever in the future.
When all the people concerned are of one mind on a certain point it issurprising how easily they can bring their wishes to bear fruit. It wasall important, both to Captain Bertram and his mother, that his marriageshould follow his engagement with the least possible delay.
Having decided to marry him, Beatrice would allow her lover to lead herto the altar the first day he cared to do so. Mrs. Meadowsweet was, ofcourse, like wax in the hands of her daughter.
Accordingly, Beatrice would only be an engaged maiden for three shortweeks, and on the 10th of September, before Captain Bertram's leaveexpired, Northbury was to make merry over the gayest wedding it had everbeen its lot to participate in.
Mr. Ingram, who was one of Beatrice's guardians, and from whose housethe wedding was to take place, had insisted on all his parishionersbeing invited. Both rich and poor were to partake of the good things oflife at the Rectory on that auspicious day, and Mrs. Bertram, whethershe liked it or not, must sit down to her son's wedding-breakfast in thepresence of Mrs. Gorman Stanley, Mrs. Morris, Mrs. Butler, Miss Peters,and the other despised Northbury folk.
"Your son is marrying into one of the Northbury families," the rectorhad said, when the proud lady had frowned a little over this. "Beatricemust and shall have her friends round her when she gives herself toBertram. Your son is making an excellent match from a money point ofview and from all other points of view, and if there is a bitter withthe sweet, he must learn to swallow it with a good grace."
When the rector had mentioned "from a money point of view" Mrs. Bertramhad forced herself to clear her brows, and smile amiably. After all,beside this great and important question of money what were these smallworries but pinpricks.
The pin-prick, however, was capable of going somewhat deeper, whenCatherine informed her mother that Beatrice particularly wished to haveher friends, the Bells, and Daisy Jenkins as bride's-maids at herwedding.
"No, no, impossible," burst from Mrs. Bertram's lips.
But in the end she had to yield this point also, for what will not awoman do who is hard beset and pressed into a corner to set herself freefrom so humiliating and torturing a position.
Thus everything was getting ready for the great event. The bride'strousseau was the wonder of all beholders. The subject of Beatrice'swedding was the only one on the _tapis_, and no one saw a littlecloud in the sky, nor guessed at even the possibility of trouble ahead.