Venetia

  CHAPTER V.

  'And so I would, my lady,' said Mistress Pauncefort, when Lady Annabelcommunicated to her faithful attendant, at night, the news of thearrival of the Cadurcis family at the abbey, and her intention ofpaying Mrs. Cadurcis a visit; 'and so I would, my lady,' said MistressPauncefort, 'and it would be but an act of Christian charity afterall, as the Doctor says; for although it is not for me to complainwhen my betters are satisfied, and after all I am always content, ifyour ladyship be; still there is no denying the fact, that this isa terrible lonesome life after all. And I cannot help thinking yourladyship has not been looking so well of late, and a little societywould do your ladyship good; and Miss Venetia too, after all, shewants a playfellow; I am certain sure that I was as tired of playingat ball with her this morning as if I had never sat down in my borndays; and I dare say the little lord will play with her all day long.'

  'If I thought that this visit would lead to what is understood by theword society, my good Pauncefort, I certainly should refrain frompaying it,' said Lady Annabel, very quietly.

  'Oh! Lord, dear my lady, I was not for a moment dreaming of any suchthing,' replied Mistress Pauncefort; 'society, I know as well as anyone, means grand balls, Ranelagh, and the masquerades. I can't abidethe thought of them, I do assure your ladyship; all I meant was that aquiet dinner now and then with a few friends, a dance perhaps in theevening, or a hand of whist, or a game of romps at Christmas, when theabbey will of course be quite full, a--'

  'I believe there is as little chance of the abbey being full atChristmas, or any other time, as there is of Cherbury.' said LadyAnnabel. 'Mrs. Cadurcis is a widow, with a very slender fortune. Herson will not enjoy his estate until he is of age, and its rental issmall. I am led to believe that they will live quite as quietly asourselves; and when I spoke of Christian charity, I was thinking onlyof kindness towards them, and not of amusement for ourselves.'

  'Well, my lady, your la'ship knows best,' replied Mistress Pauncefort,evidently very disappointed; for she had indulged in momentary visionsof noble visitors and noble valets; 'I am always content, you know,when your la'ship is; but, I must say, I think it is very odd for alord to be so poor. I never heard of such a thing. I think they willturn out richer than you have an idea, my lady. Your la'ship knows'tis quite a saying, "As rich as a lord."'

  Lady Annabel smiled, but did not reply.

  The next morning the fawn-coloured chariot, which had rarely been usedsince Lady Annabel's arrival at Cherbury, and four black long-tailedcoach-horses, that from absolute necessity had been degraded, inthe interval, to the service of the cart and the plough, made theirappearance, after much bustle and effort, before the hall-door.Although a morning's stroll from Cherbury through the woods, Cadurciswas distant nearly ten miles by the road, and that road was in greatpart impassable, save in favourable seasons. This visit, therefore,was an expedition; and Lady Annabel, fearing the fatigue for a child,determined to leave Venetia at home, from whom she had actually neverbeen separated one hour in her life. Venetia could not refrain fromshedding a tear when her mother embraced and quitted her, and begged,as a last favour, that she might accompany her through the park tothe avenue lodge. So Pauncefort and herself entered the chariot, thatrocked like a ship, in spite of all the skill of the coachman and thepostilion.

  Venetia walked home with Mistress Pauncefort, but Lady Annabel'slittle daughter was not in her usual lively spirits; many a butterflyglanced around without attracting her pursuit, and the deer troopedby without eliciting a single observation. At length she said, in athoughtful tone, 'Mistress Pauncefort, I should have liked to havegone and seen the little boy.'

  'You shall go and see him another day, Miss,' replied her attendant.

  'Mistress Pauncefort,' said Venetia, 'are you a widow?'

  Mistress Pauncefort almost started; had the inquiry been made by aman, she would almost have supposed he was going to be very rude. Shewas indeed much surprised.

  'And pray, Miss Venetia, what could put it in your head to ask such anodd question?' exclaimed Mistress Pauncefort. 'A widow! Miss Venetia;I have never yet changed my name, and I shall not in a hurry, that Ican tell you.'

  'Do widows change their names?' said Venetia.

  'All women change their names when they marry,' responded MistressPauncefort.

  'Is mamma married?' inquired Venetia.

  'La! Miss Venetia. Well, to be sure, you do ask the strangestquestions. Married! to be sure she is married,' said MistressPauncefort, exceedingly flustered.

  'And whom is she married to?' pursued the unwearied Venetia.

  'Your papa, to be sure,' said Mistress Pauncefort, blushing up to hereyes, and looking very confused; 'that is to say, Miss Venetia, youare never to ask questions about such subjects. Have not I often toldyou it is not pretty?'

  'Why is it not pretty?' said Venetia.

  'Because it is not proper,' said Mistress Pauncefort; 'because yourmamma does not like you to ask such questions, and she will be veryangry with me for answering them, I can tell you that.'

  'I tell you what, Mistress Pauncefort,' said Venetia, 'I think mammais a widow.'

  'And what then, Miss Venetia? There is no shame in that.'

  'Shame!' exclaimed Venetia. 'What is shame?'

  'Look, there is a pretty butterfly!' exclaimed Mistress Pauncefort.'Did you ever see such a pretty butterfly, Miss?'

  'I do not care about butterflies to-day, Mistress Pauncefort; I liketo talk about widows.'

  'Was there ever such a child!' exclaimed Mistress Pauncefort, with awondering glance.

  'I must have had a papa,' said Venetia; 'all the ladies I read abouthad papas, and married husbands. Then whom did my mamma marry?'

  'Lord! Miss Venetia, you know very well your mamma always tellsyou that all those books you read are a pack of stories,' observedMistress Pauncefort, with an air of triumphant art.

  'There never were such persons, perhaps,' said Venetia, 'but it is nottrue that there never were such things as papas and husbands, for allpeople have papas; you must have had a papa, Mistress Pauncefort?'

  'To be sure I had,' said Mistress Pauncefort, bridling up.

  'And a mamma too?' said Venetia.

  'As honest a woman as ever lived,' said Mistress Pauncefort.

  'Then if I have no papa, mamma must be a wife that has lost herhusband, and that, mamma told me at dinner yesterday, was a widow.'

  'Was the like ever seen!' exclaimed Mistress Pauncefort. 'And whatthen, Miss Venetia?'

  'It seems to me so odd that only two people should live here, and bothbe widows,' said Venetia, 'and both have a little child; the onlydifference is, that one is a little boy, and I am a little girl.'

  'When ladies lose their husbands, they do not like to have their namesmentioned,' said Mistress Pauncefort; 'and so you must never talk ofyour papa to my lady, and that is the truth.'

  'I will not now,' said Venetia.

  When they returned home, Mistress Pauncefort brought her work, andseated herself on the terrace, that she might not lose sight of hercharge. Venetia played about for some little time; she made a castlebehind a tree, and fancied she was a knight, and then a lady, andconjured up an ogre in the neighbouring shrubbery; but these daydreamsdid not amuse her as much as usual. She went and fetched her book, buteven 'The Seven Champions' could not interest her. Her eye was fixedupon the page, and apparently she was absorbed in her pursuit, buther mind wandered, and the page was never turned. She indulged in anunconscious reverie; her fancy was with her mother on her visit; theold abbey rose up before her: she painted the scene without an effort:the court, with the fountain; the grand room, with the tapestryhangings; that desolate garden, with the fallen statues; and thatlong, gloomy gallery. And in all these scenes appeared that littleboy, who, somehow or other, seemed wonderfully blended with herimaginings. It was a very long day this; Venetia dined along withMistress Pauncefort; the time hung very heavy; at length she fellasleep in Mistress Pauncefort's lap. A sound roused her: the carriageh
ad returned; she ran to greet her mother, but there was no news; Mrs.Cadurcis had been absent; she had gone to a distant town to buy somefurniture; and, after all, Lady Annabel had not seen the little boy.