Venetia

  CHAPTER VI.

  A few days after the visit to Cadurcis, when Lady Annabel was sittingalone, a postchaise drove up to the hall, whence issued a short andstout woman with a rubicund countenance, and dressed in a style whichremarkably blended the shabby with the tawdry. She was accompaniedby a boy between eleven and twelve years of age, whose appearance,however, much contrasted with that of his mother, for he was pale andslender, with long curling black hair and large black eyes, whichoccasionally, by their transient flashes, agreeably relieved a facethe general expression of which might be esteemed somewhat shy andsullen. The lady, of course, was Mrs. Cadurcis, who was received byLady Annabel with the greatest courtesy.

  'A terrible journey,' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis, fanning herself as shetook her seat, 'and so very hot! Plantagenet, my love, make yourbow! Have not I always told you to make a bow when you enter a room,especially where there are strangers? This is Lady Annabel Herbert,who was so kind as to call upon us. Make your bow to Lady Annabel.'

  The boy gave a sort of sulky nod, but Lady Annabel received it sograciously and expressed herself so kindly to him that his featuresrelaxed a little, though he was quite silent and sat on the edge ofhis chair, the picture of dogged indifference.

  'Charming country, Lady Annabel,' said Mrs. Cadurcis, 'but worseroads, if possible, than we had in Northumberland, where, indeed,there were no roads at all. Cherbury a delightful place, very unlikethe abbey; dreadfully lonesome I assure you I find it, Lady Annabel.Great change for us from a little town and all our kind neighbours.Very different from Morpeth; is it not, Plantagenet?'

  'I hate Morpeth,' said the boy.

  'Hate Morpeth!' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis; 'well, I am sure, thatis very ungrateful, with so many kind friends as we always found.Besides, Plantagenet, have I not always told you that you are to hatenothing? It is very wicked. The trouble it costs me, Lady Annabel, toeducate this dear child!' continued Mrs. Cadurcis, turning to LadyAnnabel, and speaking in a semi-tone. 'I have done it all myself, Iassure you; and, when he likes, he can be as good as any one. Can'tyou, Plantagenet?'

  Lord Cadurcis gave a grim smile; seated himself at the very back ofthe deep chair and swung his feet, which no longer reached the ground,to and fro.

  'I am sure that Lord Cadurcis always behaves well,' said Lady Annabel.

  'There, Plantagenet,' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis, 'only listen to that.Hear what Lady Annabel Herbert says; she is sure you always behavewell. Now mind, never give her ladyship cause to change her opinion.'

  Plantagenet curled his lip, and half turned his back on hiscompanions.

  'I regretted so much that I was not at home when you did me the honourto call,' resumed Mrs. Cadurcis; 'but I had gone over for the day toSouthport, buying furniture. What a business it is to buy furniture,Lady Annabel!' added Mrs. Cadurcis, with a piteous expression.

  'It is indeed very troublesome,' said Lady Annabel.

  'Ah! you have none of these cares,' continued Mrs. Cadurcis, surveyingthe pretty apartment. 'What a difference between Cherbury and theabbey! I suppose you have never been there?'

  'Indeed, it is one of my favourite walks,' answered Lady Annabel;'and, some two years ago, I even took the liberty of walking throughthe house.'

  'Was there ever such a place!' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis. 'I assure youmy poor head turns whenever I try to find my way about it. But thetrustees offered it us, and I thought it my duty to my son to residethere. Besides, it was a great offer to a widow; if poor Mr. Cadurcishad been alive it would have been different. I hardly know whatI shall do there, particularly in winter. My spirits are alwaysdreadfully low. I only hope Plantagenet will behave well. If he goesinto his tantarums at the abbey, and particularly in winter, I hardlyknow what will become of me!'

  'I am sure Lord Cadurcis will do everything to make the abbeycomfortable to you. Besides, it is but a short walk from Cherbury, andyou must come often and see us.'

  'Oh! Plantagenet can be good if he likes, I can assure you,Lady Annabel; and behaves as properly as any little boy I know.Plantagenet, my dear, speak. Have not I always told you, when you paya visit, that you should open your mouth now and then. I don't likechattering children,' added Mrs. Cadurcis, 'but I like them to answerwhen they are spoken to.'

  'Nobody has spoken to me,' said Lord Cadurcis, in a sullen tone.

  'Plantagenet, my love!' said his mother in a solemn voice.

  'Well, mother, what do you want?'

  'Plantagenet, my love, you know you promised me to be good!'

  'Well! what have I done?'

  'Lord Cadurcis,' said Lady Annabel, interfering, 'do you like to lookat pictures?'

  'Thank you,' replied the little lord, in a more courteous tone; 'Ilike to be left alone.'

  'Did you ever know such an odd child!' said Mrs. Cadurcis; 'and yet,Lady Annabel, you must not judge him by what you see. I do assure youhe can behave, when he likes, as pretty as possible.'

  'Pretty!' muttered the little lord between his teeth.

  'If you had only seen him at Morpeth sometimes at a little tea party,'said Mrs. Cadurcis, 'he really was quite the ornament of the company.'

  'No, I wasn't,' said Lord Cadurcis.

  'Plantagenet!' said his mother again in a solemn tone, 'have I notalways told you that you are never to contradict any one?'

  The little lord indulged in a suppressed growl.

  'There was a little play last Christmas,' continued Mrs. Cadurcis,'and he acted quite delightfully. Now you would not think that, fromthe way he sits upon that chair. Plantagenet, my dear, I do insistupon your behaving yourself. Sit like a man.'

  'I am not a man,' said Lord Cadurcis, very quietly; 'I wish I were.'

  'Plantagenet!' said the mother, 'have not I always told you that youare never to answer me? It is not proper for children to answer! OLady Annabel, if you knew what it cost me to educate my son. He neverdoes anything I wish, and it is so provoking, because I know that hecan behave as properly as possible if he likes. He does it to provokeme. You know you do it to provoke me, you little brat; now, sitproperly, sir; I do desire you to sit properly. How vexatious that youshould call at Cherbury for the first time, and behave in this manner!Plantagenet, do you hear me?' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis, with a facereddening to scarlet, and almost menacing a move from her seat.

  'Yes, everybody hears you, Mrs. Cadurcis,' said the little lord.

  'Don't call me Mrs. Cadurcis,' exclaimed the mother, in a dreadfulrage. 'That is not the way to speak to your mother; I will not becalled Mrs. Cadurcis by you. Don't answer me, sir; I desire you notto answer me. I have half a mind to get up and give you a good shake,that I have. O Lady Annabel,' sighed Mrs. Cadurcis, while a teartrickled down her cheek, 'if you only knew the life I lead, and whattrouble it costs me to educate that child!'

  'My dear madam,' said Lady Annabel, 'I am sure that Lord Cadurcis hasno other wish but to please you. Indeed you have misunderstood him.'

  'Yes! she always misunderstands me,' said Lord Cadurcis, in a softertone, but with pouting lips and suffused eyes.

  'Now he is going on,' said his mother, beginning herself to crydreadfully. 'He knows my weak heart; he knows nobody in the worldloves him like his mother; and this is the way he treats me.'

  'My dear Mrs. Cadurcis,' said Lady Annabel, 'pray take luncheon afteryour long drive; and Lord Cadurcis, I am sure you must be fatigued.'

  'Thank you, I never eat, my dear lady,' said Mrs. Cadurcis, 'except atmy meals. But one glass of Mountain, if you please, I would just takethe liberty of tasting, for the weather is so dreadfully hot, andPlantagenet has so aggravated me, I really do not feel myself.'

  Lady Annabel sounded her silver hand-bell, and the butler brought somecakes and the Mountain. Mrs. Cadurcis revived by virtue of her singleglass, and the providential co-operation of a subsequent one or two.Even the cakes and the Mountain, however, would not tempt her son toopen his mouth; and this, in spite of her returning composure, droveher to desperation. A conviction that the Mountain and the cakes wer
edelicious, an amiable desire that the palate of her spoiled childshould be gratified, some reasonable maternal anxiety that after solong and fatiguing a drive he in fact needed some refreshment, andthe agonising consciousness that all her own physical pleasure at themoment was destroyed by the mental sufferings she endured at havingquarrelled with her son, and that he was depriving himself of what wasso agreeable only to pique her, quite overwhelmed the ill-regulatedmind of this fond mother. Between each sip and each mouthful, sheappealed to him to follow her example, now with cajolery, now withmenace, till at length, worked up by the united stimulus of theMountain and her own ungovernable rage, she dashed down the glass andunfinished slice of cake, and, before the astonished Lady Annabel,rushed forward to give him what she had long threatened, and what shein general ultimately had recourse to, a good shake.

  Her agile son, experienced in these storms, escaped in time, andpushed his chair before his infuriated mother; Mrs. Cadurcis, however,rallied, and chased him round the room; once more she flatteredherself she had captured him, once more he evaded her; in her despairshe took up Venetia's 'Seven Champions,' and threw the volume at hishead; he laughed a fiendish laugh, as, ducking his head, the book flewon, and dashed through a pane of glass; Mrs. Cadurcis made a desperatecharge, and her son, a little frightened at her almost maniacalpassion, saved himself by suddenly seizing Lady Annabel's work-table,and whirling it before her; Mrs. Cadurcis fell over the leg of thetable, and went into hysterics; while the bloodhound, who had longstarted from his repose, looked at his mistress for instructions, andin the meantime continued barking. The astonished and agitated LadyAnnabel assisted Mrs. Cadurcis to rise, and led her to a couch. LordCadurcis, pale and dogged, stood in a corner, and after all thisuproar there was a comparative calm, only broken by the sobs of themother, each instant growing fainter and fainter.

  At this moment the door opened, and Mistress Pauncefort ushered in thelittle Venetia. She really looked like an angel of peace sent fromheaven on a mission of concord, with her long golden hair, her brightface, and smile of ineffable loveliness.

  'Mamma!' said Venetia, in the sweetest tone.

  'Hush! darling,' said Lady Annabel, 'this lady is not very well.'

  Mrs. Cadurcis opened her eyes and sighed. She beheld Venetia, andstared at her with a feeling of wonder. 'O Lady Annabel,' she faintlyexclaimed, 'what must you think of me? But was there ever such anunfortunate mother? and I have not a thought in the world but for thatboy. I have devoted my life to him, and never would have buried myselfin this abbey but for his sake. And this is the way he treats me,and his father before him treated me even worse. Am I not the mostunfortunate woman you ever knew?'

  'My dear madam,' said the kind Lady Annabel, in a soothing tone, 'youwill be very happy yet; all will be quite right and quite happy.'

  'Is this angel your child?' inquired Mrs. Cadurcis, in a low voice.

  'This is my little girl, Venetia. Come hither, Venetia, and speak toMrs. Cadurcis.'

  'How do you do, Mrs. Cadurcis?' said Venetia. 'I am so glad you havecome to live at the abbey.'

  'The angel!' exclaimed Mrs. Cadurcis. 'The sweet seraph! Oh! why didnot my Plantagenet speak to you, Lady Annabel, in the same tone?And he can, if he likes; he can, indeed. It was his silence that somortified me; it was his silence that led to all. I am so proud ofhim! and then he comes here, and never speaks a word. O Plantagenet, Iam sure you will break my heart.'

  Venetia went up to the little lord in the corner, and gently strokedhis dark cheek. 'Are you the little boy?' she said.

  Cadurcis looked at her; at first the glance was rather fierce, butit instantly relaxed. 'What is your name?' he said in a low, but notunkind, tone.

  'Venetia!'

  'I like you, Venetia,' said the boy. 'Do you live here?'

  'Yes, with my mamma.'

  'I like your mamma, too; but not so much as you. I like your goldhair.'

  'Oh, how funny! to like my gold hair!'

  'If you had come in sooner,' said Cadurcis, 'we should not have hadthis row.'

  'What is a row, little boy?' said Venetia.

  'Do not call me little boy,' he said, but not in an unkind tone; 'callme by my name.'

  'What is your name?'

  'Lord Cadurcis; but you may call me by my Christian name, because Ilike you.'

  'What is your Christian name?'

  'Plantagenet.'

  'Plantagenet! What a long name!' said Venetia. 'Tell me then,Plantagenet, what is a row?'

  'What often takes place between me and my mother, but which I am sorrynow has happened here, for I like this place, and should like to comeoften. A row is a quarrel.'

  'A quarrel! What! do you quarrel with your mamma?'

  'Often.'

  'Why, then, you are not a good boy.'

  'Ah! my mamma is not like yours,' said the little lord, with a sigh.'It is not my fault. But now I want to make it up; how shall I do it?'

  'Go and give her a kiss.'

  'Poh! that is not the way.'

  'Shall I go and ask my mamma what is best to do?' said Venetia;and she stole away on tiptoe, and whispered to Lady Annabel thatPlantagenet wanted her. Her mother came forward and invited LordCadurcis to walk on the terrace with her, leaving Venetia to amuse herother guest.

  Lady Annabel, though kind, was frank and firm in her unexpectedconfidential interview with her new friend. She placed before himclearly the enormity of his conduct, which no provocation couldjustify; it was a violation of divine law, as well as human propriety.She found the little lord attentive, tractable, and repentant,and, what might not have been expected, exceedingly ingeniousand intelligent. His observations, indeed, were distinguished byremarkable acuteness; and though he could not, and indeed did not evenattempt to vindicate his conduct, he incidentally introduced muchthat might be urged in its extenuation. There was indeed in this,his milder moment, something very winning in his demeanour, and LadyAnnabel deeply regretted that a nature of so much promise and capacityshould, by the injudicious treatment of a parent, at once fond andviolent, afford such slight hopes of future happiness. It was arrangedbetween Lord Cadurcis and Lady Annabel that she should lead him to hismother, and that he should lament the past, and ask her forgiveness;so they re-entered the room. Venetia was listening to a long storyfrom Mrs. Cadurcis, who appeared to have entirely recovered herself;but her countenance assumed a befitting expression of grief andgravity when she observed her son.

  'My dear madam,' said Lady Annabel, 'your son is unhappy that heshould have offended you, and he has asked my kind offices to effect aperfect reconciliation between a child who wishes to be dutiful to aparent who, he feels, has always been so affectionate.'

  Mrs. Cadurcis began crying.

  'Mother,' said her son, 'I am sorry for what has occurred; mine wasthe fault. I shall not be happy till you pardon me.'

  'No, yours was not the fault,' said poor Mrs. Cadurcis, cryingbitterly. 'Oh! no, it was not! I was in fault, only I. There, LadyAnnabel, did I not tell you he was the sweetest, dearest, mostgenerous-hearted creature that ever lived? Oh! if he would only alwaysspeak so, I am sure I should be the happiest woman that ever breathed!He puts me in mind quite of his poor dear father, who was anangel upon earth; he was indeed, when he was not vexed. O mydear Plantagenet! my only hope and joy! you are the treasure andconsolation of my life, and always will be. God bless you, my darlingchild! You shall have that pony you wanted; I am sure I can manage it:I did not think I could.'

  As Lady Annabel thought it was as well that the mother and the sonshould not be immediately thrown together after this storm, she kindlyproposed that they should remain, and pass the day at Cherbury; and,as Plantagenet's eyes brightened at the proposal, it did not requiremuch trouble to persuade his mother to accede to it. The day, that hadcommenced so inauspiciously, turned out one of the most agreeable,both to Mrs. Cadurcis and her child. The two mothers conversedtogether, and, as Mrs. Cadurcis was a great workwoman, there wasat least one bond of sympathy between her and t
he tapestry of herhostess. Then they all took a stroll in the park; and as Mrs. Cadurciswas not able to walk for any length of time, the children werepermitted to stroll about together, attended by Mistress Pauncefort,while Mrs. Cadurcis, chatting without ceasing, detailed to LadyAnnabel all the history of her life, all the details of her variouscomplaints and her economical arrangements, and all the secrets of herhusband's treatment of her, that favourite subject on which she everwaxed most eloquent. Plantagenet, equally indulging in confidence,which with him, however, was unusual, poured all his soul into thecharmed ear of Venetia. He told her how he and his mother had lived atMorpeth, and how he hated it; how poor they had been, and how rich heshould be; how he loved the abbey, and especially the old gallery, andthe drums and armour; how he had been a day-scholar at a little schoolwhich he abhorred, and how he was to go some day to Eton, of which hewas very proud.

  At length they were obliged to return, and when dinner was over thepostchaise was announced. Mrs. Cadurcis parted from Lady Annabel withall the warm expressions of a heart naturally kind and generous; andPlantagenet embraced Venetia, and promised that the next day he wouldfind his way alone from Cadurcis, through the wood, and come and takeanother walk with her.