CHAPTER VII.
AN ACCOUNT OF MRS. TAPPITT'S BALL--COMMENCED.
Mrs. Butler Cornbury was a very pretty woman. She possessed thatpeculiar prettiness which is so often seen in England, and whichis rarely seen anywhere else. She was bright, well-featured, withspeaking lustrous eyes, with perfect complexion, and full bust, withhead of glorious shape and figure like a Juno;--and yet with all herbeauty she had ever about her an air of homeliness which made thesweetness of her womanhood almost more attractive than the lovelinessof her personal charms. I have seen in Italy and in America womenperhaps as beautiful as any that I have seen in England, but inneither country does it seem that such beauty is intended fordomestic use. In Italy the beauty is soft, and of the flesh. InAmerica it is hard, and of the mind. Here it is of the heart,I think, and as such is the happiest of the three. I do not saythat Mrs. Butler Cornbury was a woman of very strong feeling; buther strongest feelings were home feelings. She was going to Mrs.Tappitt's party because it might serve her husband's purposes; shewas going to burden herself with Rachel Ray because her father hadasked her; and her greatest ambition was to improve the worldlyposition of the squires of Cornbury Grange. She was alreadycalculating whether it might not some day be brought about that herlittle Butler should sit in Parliament for his county.
At nine o'clock exactly on that much to be remembered Tuesday theCornbury carriage stopped at the gate of the cottage at Bragg's End,and Rachel, ready dressed, blushing, nervous, but yet happy, cameout, and mounting on to the step was almost fearful to take hershare of the seat. "Make yourself comfortable, my dear," said Mrs.Cornbury, "you can't crush me. Or rather I always make myselfcrushable on such occasions as this. I suppose we are going to have agreat crowd?" Rachel merely said that she didn't know. She supposedthere would be a good many persons. Then she tried to thank Mrs.Cornbury for being so good to her, and of course broke down. "I'mdelighted,--quite delighted," said Mrs. Cornbury. "It's so good ofyou to come with me. Now that I don't dance myself, there's nothing Ilike so much as taking out girls that do."
"And don't you dance at all?"
"I stand up for a quadrille sometimes. When a woman has five childrenI don't think she ought to do more than that."
"Oh, I shall not do more than that, Mrs. Cornbury."
"You mean to say you won't waltz?"
"Mamma never said anything about it, but I'm sure she would not likeit. Besides--"
"Well--"
"I don't think I know how. I did learn once, when I was very little;but I've forgotten."
"It will soon come again to you if you like to try. I was very fondof waltzing before I was married." And this was the daughter of Mr.Comfort, the clergyman who preached with such strenuous eloquenceagainst worldly vanities! Even Rachel was a little puzzled, and wasalmost afraid that her head was sinking beneath the waters.
There was a great fuss made when Mrs. Butler Cornbury's carriagedrove up to the brewery door, and Rachel almost felt that she couldhave made her way up to the drawing-room more comfortably under Mrs.Rule's mild protection. All the servants seemed to rush at her, andwhen she found herself in the hall and was conducted into some innerroom, she was not allowed to shake herself into shape without the aidof a maid-servant. Mrs. Cornbury,--who took everything as a matter ofcourse and was ready in a minute,--had turned the maid over to theyoung lady with a kind idea that the young lady's toilet was moreimportant than that of the married woman. Rachel was losing her headand knew that she was doing so. When she was again taken into thehall she hardly remembered where she was, and when Mrs. Cornburytook her by the arm and began to walk up-stairs with her, herstrongest feeling was a wish that she was at home again. On the firstlanding,--for the dancing-room was upstairs,--they encountered Mr.Tappitt, conspicuous in a blue satin waistcoat; and on the secondlanding they found Mrs. Tappitt, magnificent in a green Irish poplin."Oh, Mrs. Cornbury, we are so delighted. The Miss Fawcetts arehere; they are just come. How kind of you to bring Rachel Ray. Howdo you do, Rachel?" Then Mrs. Cornbury moved easily on into thedrawing-room, and Rachel still found herself carried with her.She was half afraid that she ought to have slunk away from hermagnificent chaperon as soon as she was conveyed safely within thehouse, and that she was encroaching as she thus went on; but stillshe could not find the moment in which to take herself off. In thedrawing-room,--the room from which the carpets had been taken,--theywere at once encountered by the Tappitt girls, with whom the Fawcettgirls on the present occasion were so intermingled that Rachel hardlyknew who was who. Mrs. Butler Cornbury was soon surrounded, and aclatter of words went on. Rachel was in the middle of the fray, andsome voices were addressed also to her; but her presence of mind wasgone, and she never could remember what she said on the occasion.
There had already been a dance,--the commencing operation of thenight's work,--a thin quadrille, in which the early comers had takenpart without much animation, and to which they had been driven upunwillingly. At its close the Fawcett girls had come in, as had nowMrs. Cornbury, so that it may be said that the evening was beginningagain. What had been as yet done was but the tuning of the fiddlesbefore the commencement of the opera. No one likes to be in atthe tuning, but there are those who never are able to avoid thisannoyance. As it was, Rachel, under Mrs. Cornbury's care, had beenbrought upon the scene just at the right moment. As soon as the greatclatter had ceased, she found herself taken by the hand by Cherry,and led a little on one side. "You must have a card, you know," saidCherry handing her a ticket on which was printed the dances as theywere to succeed each other. "That first one is over. Such a dullthing. I danced with Adolphus Griggs, just because I couldn't escapehim for one quadrille." Rachel took the card, but never having seensuch a thing before did not in the least understand its object. "Asyou get engaged for the dances you must put down their names in thisway, you see,"--and Cherry showed her card, which already bore thedesignations of several cavaliers, scrawled in hieroglyphics whichwere intelligible to herself. "Haven't you got a pencil? Well, youcan come to me. I have one hanging here, you know." Rachel wasbeginning to understand, and to think that she should not havevery much need for the pencil, when Mrs. Cornbury returned to her,bringing a young man in her wake. "I want to introduce my cousin toyou, Walter Cornbury," said she. Mrs. Cornbury was a woman who knewher duty as a chaperon, and who would not neglect it. "He waltzesdelightfully," said Mrs. Cornbury, whispering, "and you needn't beafraid of being a little astray with him at first. He always doeswhat I tell him." Then the introduction was made; but Rachel hadno opportunity of repeating her fears, or of saying again that shethought she had better not waltz. What to say to Mr. Walter Cornburyshe hardly knew; but before she had really said anything he hadpricked her down for two dances,--for the first waltz, which was justgoing to begin, and some not long future quadrille. "She is verypretty," Mrs. Butler Cornbury had said to her cousin, "and I want tobe kind to her." "I'll take her in hand and pull her through," saidWalter. "What a tribe of people they've got here, haven't they?""Yes, and you must dance with them all. Every time you stand up maybe as good as a vote." "Oh," said Walter, "I'm not particular;--I'lldance as long as they keep the house open." Then he went back toRachel, who had already been at work with Cherry's pencil.
"If there isn't Rachel Ray going to waltz with Walter Cornbury," saidAugusta to her mother. Augusta had just refused the odious Griggs,and was about to stand up with a clerk in the brewery, who was almostas odious.
"It's because she came in the carriage," said Mrs. Tappitt; "but Idon't think she can waltz." Then she hurried off to welcome othercomers.
Rachel had hardly been left alone for a minute, and had been so muchbewildered by the lights and crowd and strangeness of everythingaround her, that she had been unable to turn her thoughts to the onesubject on which during the last week her mind had rested constantly.She had not even looked round the room for Luke Rowan. She had justseen Mary Rowan in the crowd, but had not spoken to her. She had onlyknown her from the manner in which Cherry Tappitt had spoken to he
r,and it must be explained that Rachel had not seen young Rowan sincethat parting under the elm-trees. Indeed, since then she had seennone of the Tappitt family. Her mother had said no word to her,cautioning her that she had better not seek them in her eveningwalks; but she had felt herself debarred from going into Baslehurstby all that her sister had said, and in avoiding Luke Rowan she hadavoided the whole party from the brewery.
Now the room was partially cleared, the non-dancers being pressedback into a border round the walls, and the music began. Rachel, withher heart in her mouth, was claimed by her partner, and was carriedforward towards the ground for dancing, tacitly assenting to her fatebecause she lacked words in which to explain to Mr. Cornbury how verymuch she would have preferred to be left in obscurity behind the wallof crinoline.
"Pray wait a minute or two," said she, almost panting.
"Oh, certainly. There's no hurry, only we'll stand where we can getour place when we like it. You need not be a bit afraid of going onwith me. Patty has told me all about it, and we'll make it right in abrace of turns." There was something very good-natured in his voice,and she almost felt that she could ask him to let her sit down.
"I don't think I can," she said.
"Oh yes; come, we'll try!" Then he took her by the waist, and awaythey went. Twice round the room he took her, very gently, as hethought; but her head had gone from her instantly in a whirl ofamazement! Of her feet and their movements she had known nothing;though she had followed the music with fair accuracy, she had done sounconsciously, and when he allowed her to stop she did not know whichway she had been going, or at which end of the room she stood. Andyet she had liked it, and felt some little triumph as a convictioncame upon her that she had not conspicuously disgraced herself.
"That's charming," said he. She essayed to speak a word in answer,but her want of breath did not as yet permit it.
"Charming!" he went on. "The music's perhaps a little slow, but we'llhurry them up presently." Slow! It seemed to her that she had beencarried round in a vortex, of which the rapidity, though pleasant,had been almost frightful. "Come; we'll have another start," said he;and she was carried away again before she had spoken a word. "I'd noidea that girl could waltz," said Mrs. Tappitt to old Mrs. Rule. "Idon't think her mother would like it if she saw it," said Mrs. Rule."And what would Mrs. Prime say?" said Mrs. Tappitt. However the icewas broken, and Rachel, when she was given to understand that thatdance was done, felt herself to be aware that the world of waltzingwas open to her, at any rate for that night. Was it very wicked?She had her doubts. If anybody had suggested to her, before Mrs.Cornbury's carriage had called for her, that she would waltz on thatevening, she would have repudiated the idea almost with horror. Howeasy is the path down the shores of the Avernus! but then,--was shegoing down the shores of the Avernus?
She was still walking through the crowd, leaning on her partner'sarm, and answering his good-natured questions almost inmonosyllables, when she was gently touched on the arm by a fan, andon turning found herself confronted by Luke Rowan and his sister."I've been trying to get at you so long," said he, making some sortof half apology to Cornbury, "and haven't been able; though once Ivery nearly danced you down without your knowing it."
"We're so much obliged to you for letting us escape," said Cornbury;"are we not, Miss Ray?"
"We carried heavy metal, I can tell you," said Rowan. "But I mustintroduce you to my sister. Where on earth have you been for theseten days?" Then the introduction was made, and young Cornbury,finding that his partner was in the hands of another lady, slippedaway.
"I have heard a great deal about you, Miss Ray," said Mary Rowan.
"Have you? I don't know who should say much about me." The wordssounded uncivil, but she did not know what words to choose.
"Oh, from Cherry especially;--and--and from my brother."
"I'm very glad to make your acquaintance," said Rachel.
"He told me that you would have been sure to come and walk with us,and we have all been saying that you had disappeared."
"I have been kept at home," said Rachel, who could not helpremembering all the words of the churchyard interview, and feelingthem down to her finger nails. He must have known why she had notagain joined the girls from the brewery in their walks. Or had heforgotten that he had called her Rachel, and held her fast by thehand? Perhaps he did these things so often to other girls that hethought nothing of them!
"You have been keeping yourself up for the ball," said Rowan."Precious people are right to make themselves scarce. And now whatvacancies have you got for me?"
"Vacancies!" said Rachel.
"You don't mean to say you've got none. Look here, I've kept allthese on purpose for you, although twenty girls have begged me todispose of them in their favour."
"Oh, Luke, how can you tell such fibs?" said his sister.
"Well;--here they are," and he showed his card.
"I'm not engaged to anybody," said Rachel; "except for one quadrilleto Mr. Cornbury,--that gentleman who just went away."
"Then you've no excuse for not filling up my vacancies,--kept onpurpose for you, mind." And immediately her name was put down for sheknew not what dances. Then he took her card and scrawled his own nameon it in various places. She knew that she was weak to let him thushave his way in everything; but he was strong and she could nothinder him.
She was soon left with Mary Rowan, as Luke went off to fulfil thefirst of his numerous engagements. "Do you like my brother?" saidshe. "But of course I don't mean you to answer that question. We allthink him so very clever."
"I'm sure he is very clever."
"A great deal too clever to be a brewer. But you mustn't say that Isaid so. I wanted him to go into the army."
"I shouldn't at all like that for my brother--if I had one."
"And what would you like?"
"Oh, I don't know. I never had a brother;--perhaps to be aclergyman."
"Yes; that would be very nice; but Luke would never be a clergyman.He was going to be an attorney, but he didn't like that at all. Hesays there's a great deal of poetry in brewing beer, but of coursehe's only quizzing us. Oh, here's my partner. I do so hope I shallsee you very often while I'm at Baslehurst." Then Rachel was alone,but Mrs. Tappitt came up to her in a minute. "My dear," said she,"Mr. Griggs desires the honour of your hand for a quadrille." Andthus Rachel found herself standing up with the odious Mr. Griggs."I do so pity you," said Cherry, coming behind her for a moment."Remember, you need not do it more than once. I don't mean to do itagain."
After that she was allowed to sit still while a polka was beingperformed. Mrs. Cornbury came to her saying a word or two; but shedid not stay with her long, so that Rachel could think about LukeRowan, and try to make up her mind as to what words she should sayto him. She furtively looked down upon her card and found that hehad written his own name to five dances, ending with Sir Roger deCoverley at the close of the evening. It was quite impossible thatshe should dance five dances with him, so she thought that she wouldmark out two with her nail. The very next was one of them, and duringthat she would explain to him what she had done. The whole thingloomed large in her thoughts and made her feel anxious. She wouldhave been unhappy if he had not come to her at all, and now she wasunhappy because he had thrust himself upon her so violently,--or ifnot unhappy, she was at any rate uneasy. And what should she sayabout the elm-trees? Nothing, unless he spoke to her about them. Shefancied that he would say something about the arm in the cloud, andif so, she must endeavour to make him understand that--that--that--.She did not know how to fix her thoughts. Would it be possible tomake him understand that he ought not to have called her Rachel?
While she was thinking of all this Mr. Tappitt came and sat besideher. "Very pretty; isn't it?" said he. "Very pretty indeed, I callit."
"Oh yes, very pretty. I had no idea it would be so nice." To Mr.Tappitt in his blue waistcoat she could speak without hesitation. Ahme! It is the young men who receive all the reverence that the worldhas to pay;--al
l the reverence that is worth receiving. When a man isturned forty and has become fat, anybody can speak to him withoutawe!
"Yes, it is nice," said Mr. Tappitt, who, however, was not quiteeasy in his mind. He had been into the supper room, and had foundthe waiter handling long-necked bottles, arranging them in rows,apparently by the dozen. "What's that?" said he, sharply. "Thechampagne, sir! there should have been ice, sir, but I suppose theyforgot it." Where had Mrs. T. procured all that wine? It was veryplain to him that she had got the better of him by some deceit. Hewould smile, and smile, and smile during the evening; but he wouldhave it out with Mrs. Tappitt before he would allow that lady to haveany rest. He lingered in the room, pretending that he was overlookingthe arrangements, but in truth he was counting the bottles. Afterall there was but a dozen. He knew that at Griggs's they sold it forsixty shillings. "Three pounds!" he said to himself. "Three poundsmore; dear, dear!"
"Yes, it is nice!" he said to Rachel. "Mind you get a glass ofchampagne when you go in to supper. By-the-by, shall I get a partnerfor you? Here, Buckett, come and dance the next dance with Miss Ray."Buckett was the clerk in the brewery. Rachel had nothing to say forherself; so Buckett's name was put down on the card, though she wouldrather not have danced with Buckett. A week or two ago, before shehad been taken up into Mrs. Cornbury's carriage, or had waltzed withMrs. Cornbury's cousin, or had looked at the setting sun with LukeRowan, she would have been sufficiently contented to dance with Mr.Buckett,--if in those days she had ever dreamed of dancing with anyone. Then Mrs. Cornbury came to her again, bringing other cavaliers,and Rachel's card began to be filled. "The quadrille before supperyou dance with me," said Walter Cornbury. "That's settled, you know."Oh, what a new world it was, and so different from the Dorcasmeetings at Miss Pucker's rooms!
Then came the moment of the evening which, of all the moments, wasthe most trying to her. Luke Rowan came to claim her hand for thenext quadrille. She had already spoken to him,--or rather he to her;but that had been in the presence of a third person, when, of course,nothing could be said about the sunset and the clouds,--nothing aboutthat promise of friendship. But now she would have to stand againwith him in solitude,--a solitude of another kind,--in a solitudewhich was authorized, during which he might whisper what words hepleased to her, and from which she could not even run away. It hadbeen thought to be a great sin on her part to have remained a momentwith him by the stile; but now she was to stand up with him beneaththe glare of the lights, dressed in her best, on purpose that hemight whisper to her what words he pleased. But she was sure--shethought that she was sure, that he would utter no words so sweet, sofull of meaning, as those in which he bade her watch the arm in theclouds.
Till the first figure was over for them he hardly spoke to her. "Tellme," said he then, "why has nobody seen you since Saturday weeklast?"
"I have been at home."
"Ah; but tell me the truth. Remember what we said as weparted,--about being friends. One tells one's friend the real truth.But I suppose you do not remember what we said?"
"I don't think I said anything, Mr. Rowan."
"Did you not? Then I must have been dreaming. I thought you promisedme your friendship." He paused for her answer, but she said nothing.She could not declare to him that she would not be his friend. "Butyou have not told me yet why it was that you remained at home.Come;--answer me a fair question fairly. Had I offended you?" Againshe paused and made him no reply. It seemed to her that the room wasgoing round her, and that the music made her dizzy. If she told himthat he had not offended her would she not thereby justify him inhaving called her Rachel?
"Then I did offend you?" said he.
"Oh, Mr. Rowan,--never mind now; you must go on with the figure," andthus for a moment she was saved from her difficulty. When he had donehis work of dancing, she began hers, and as she placed both her handsin his to make the final turn, she flattered herself that he wouldnot go back to the subject.
Nor did he while the quadrille lasted. As they continued to dancehe said very little to her, and before the last figure was over shehad almost settled down to enjoyment. He merely spoke a word or twoabout Mrs. Cornbury's dress, and another word about the singulararrangement of Mr. Griggs' jewellery, at which word she almostlaughed outright, and then a third word laudatory of the Tappittgirls. "As for Cherry," said he "I'm quite in love with her for herpure good-nature and hearty manners; and of all living female humanbeings Martha is the most honest and just."
"Oh! I'll tell her that," said Rachel. "She will so like it."
"No, you mustn't. You mustn't repeat any of the things I tell you inconfidence." That word confidence again silenced her, and nothingmore was said till he had offered her his arm at the end of thedance.
"Come away and have some negus on the stairs," he said. "The reasonI like these sort of parties is, that one is allowed to go into suchqueer places. You see that little room with the door open. That'swhere Mr. Tappitt keeps his old boots and the whip with which hedrives his grey horse. There are four men playing cards there now,and one is seated on the end of an upturned portmanteau."
"And where are the old boots?"
"Packed away on the top of Mrs. Tappitt's bed. I helped to put themthere. Some are stuck under the grate because there are no fires now.Look here; there's a seat in the window." Then he placed her in theinclosure of an old window on the staircase landing, and brought herlemonade, and when she had drunk it he sat down beside her.
"Hadn't we better go back to the dancing?"
"They won't begin for a few minutes. They're only tuning up again.You should always escape from the hot air for a moment or two.Besides, you must answer me that question. Did I offend you?"
"Please don't talk of it. Please don't. It's all over now."
"Ah, but it is not all over. I knew you were angry with mebecause,--shall I say why?"
"No, Mr. Rowan, don't say anything about it."
"At any rate, I may think that you have forgiven me. But what if Ioffend in the same way again? What if I ask permission to do it,so that it may be no offence? Only think; if I am to live here inBaslehurst all my life, is it not reasonable that I should wish youto be my friend? Are you going to separate yourself from CherryTappitt because you are afraid of me?"
"Oh, no."
"But is not that what you have done during the last week, MissRay;--if it must be Miss Ray?" Then he paused, but still she saidnothing. "Rachel is such a pretty name."
"Oh, I think it so ugly."
"It's the prettiest name in the Bible, and the name most fit forpoetic use. Who does not remember Rachel weeping for her children?"
"That's the idea, and not the name. Ruth is twice prettier, and Marythe sweetest of all."
"I never knew anybody before called Rachel," said he.
"And I never knew anybody called Luke."
"That's a coincidence, is it not?--a coincidence that ought to makeus friends. I may call you Rachel then?"
"Oh, no; please don't. What would people think?"
"Perhaps they would think the truth," said he. "Perhaps they wouldimagine that I called you so because I liked you. But perhaps theymight think also that you let me do so because you liked me. Peopledo make such mistakes."
At this moment up came to them, with flushed face, Mr. Buckett."I have been looking for you everywhere," said he to Rachel. "It'snearly over now."
"I am so sorry," said Rachel, "but I quite forgot."
"So I presume," said Mr. Buckett angrily, but at the same time hegave his arm to Rachel and led her away. The fag end of some waltzremained, and he might get a turn with her. People in his hearing hadspoken of her as the belle of the room, and he did not like to losehis chance. "Oh, Mr. Rowan," said Rachel, looking back as she wasbeing led away. "I must speak one word to Mr. Rowan." Then sheseparated herself, and returning a step or two almost whispered toher late partner--"You have put me down for ever so many dances. Youmust scratch out two or three of them."
"Not one," said he. "An engagement is
an engagement."
"Oh, but I really can't."
"Of course I cannot make you, but I will scratch out nothing,--andforget nothing."
Then she rejoined Mr. Buckett, and was told by him that young Rowanwas not liked in the brewery at all. "We think him conceited, youknow. He pretends to know more than anybody else."