Frank Fairlegh Part 38

CHAPTER x.x.xII -- CATCHING SIGHT OF AN OLD FLAME

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"Give me thy hand... I'm glad to find thee here."

_The Lover's Melancholy_.

"Half light, half shade, She stood, a sight to make an old man young."

_The Gardener's Daughter_.

UTTERLY worn out, both in mind and body, by hard reading and confinement, I determined to return to Heathfield forthwith, with "all my blus.h.i.+ng honours thick upon me," and enjoy a few weeks' idleness before again engaging in any active course of study which might be necessary to fit me for my future profession. When the post came in, however, I received a couple of letters which rather militated against my intention of an immediate return home. A note from Harry Oaklands informed me, that having some weeks ago been ordered to a milder air, he and Sir John had chosen Clifton, their decision being influenced by the fact of an old and valued friend of Sir John's residing there. He begged me to let him hear all the Cambridge news, and hoped I should join him as soon as Mrs. Fairlegh and my sister would consent to part with me.

For himself, he said, he felt somewhat stronger, but still suffered much from the wound in his side. The second letter was from my mother, saying she had received an invitation from an old lady, a cousin of my father's, who resided in London, and, as she thought change of scene would do f.a.n.n.y good, she had accepted it. She had been there already one week, and proposed returning at the end of the next, which she hoped would be soon enough to welcome me after the conclusion of my labours at the university.

Unable to make up my mind whether to remain where I was for a week longer, or to return and await my mother's arrival at the cottage, I threw on my cap and gown and -251-- strolled out, the fresh air appearing quite a luxury to me after having been shut up so long. As I pa.s.sed through the street where old Maurice the pastry-cook lived I thought I would call and learn how Lizzie was going on, as I knew Harry would be anxious for information on this point. On entering the shop I was most cordially received by the young lady herself, who had by this time quite recovered her good looks, and on the present occasion appeared unusually gay and animated, which was soon accounted for when her father, drawing me aside, informed me that she was going to be married to a highly respectable young baker, who had long ago fallen a victim to her charms, and on whom she had of late deigned to take pity; the severe lesson she had been taught having induced her to overlook his intense respectability, high moral excellence, and round, good-natured face--three strong disqualifications which had stood dreadfully in his way when striving to render himself agreeable to the romantic Fornarina.

I was answering their inquiries after Oaklands, of whom they spoke in terms of the deepest grat.i.tude, when a young fellow, wrapped up in a rough pea-jacket, bustled into the shop, and, without perceiving me, accosted Lizzie as follows:--

"Pray, young lady, can you inform me--what glorious buns!--where Mr.--that is to say, which of these funny old edifices may happen to be Trinity College?"

On receiving the desired information, he continued, "Much obliged. I really must trouble you for another bun. Made by your own fair hands, I presume? You see, I'm quite a stranger to this quaint old town of yours, where half the houses look like churches, and all the men like the parsons and clerks belonging to them, taking a walk in their canonicals, with four-cornered hats on their heads--abortive attempts to square the circle, I conclude. Wonderful things, very. But when I get to Trinity, how am I to find the man I want, one Mr. Frank Fairlegh?" Here I took the liberty of interrupting the speaker, whom I had long since recognised as Coleman--though what could have brought him to Cambridge I was at a loss to conceive--by coming behind him, and saying, in a gruff voice, "I am sorry you keep such low company, young man".

"And pray who may you be that are so ready with your 'young man,' I should like to know? I shall have to teach you something your tutors and dons seem to have forgotten, and that is, manners, fellow!" exclaimed Freddy, turning round with a face as red as a turkey-c.o.c.k, -252-- and not recognising me at first in my cap and gown; then looking at me steadily for a moment, he continued, "The very man himself, by all that's comical! This is the way you read for your degree, is it?" Then with a glance towards Lizzie Maurice, he sang:--

"'My only books Were woman's looks, And folly all they taught me'.

It's a Master of Hearts you're striving to become, I suppose?"

"Nonsense," replied I quickly, for I saw poor Lizzie coloured and looked uncomfortable; "we don't allow bad puns to be made at Cambridge."

"Then, faith, unless the _genius loci_ inspires me with good ones,"

returned Freddy, as we left the shop together, "the sooner I'm out of it the better."

Ten minutes' conversation served to inform me that Freddy, having been down to Bury St. Edmund's on business, had stopped at Cambridge on his way back in order to find me out, and, if possible, induce me to accompany him home to Hillingford, and spend a few days there. This arrangement suited my case exactly, as it nearly filled up the s.p.a.ce of time which must elapse before my mother's return, and I gladly accepted his invitation. In turn, I pressed him to remain a day or two with me, and see the lions of Cambridge; but it appeared that the mission on which he had been despatched was an important one, and would not brook delay; he must therefore return at once to report progress. As he could not stay with me, the most advisable thing seemed to be that I should go back with him. Returning, therefore, to my rooms, I set Freddy to work on some bread and cheese and ale, whilst I hastened to cram a portmanteau and carpet-bag with various indispensables. I then ran to the Hoop, and took an affectionate farewell of Mr. Frampton, making him promise to pay me a visit at Heathfield Cottage; and, in less than two hours from the time Coleman had first made his appearance, we were seated together on the roof of a stage-coach, and bowling along merrily towards Hillingford.

During our drive Coleman recounted to me his adventures in search of c.u.mberland on the day preceding the duel, and gave me a more minute description than I had yet heard of the disreputable nature of that individual's pursuits. From what Coleman could learn, c.u.mberland, after having lost at the gaming-table large sums of -253-- money, of which he had by some means contrived to obtain possession, had become connected with a gambling-house not far from St. James's Street, and was supposed to be one of its proprietors. Just before Coleman left town, there had been an _expose_ of certain shameful proceedings which had taken place at this house--windows had been broken, and the police obliged to make a forcible entrance; but c.u.mberland had as yet contrived to keep his name from appearing, although it was known that he was concerned in the affair, and would be obliged to keep out of the way at present. "We shall take the old lady by surprise, I've a notion," said Freddy, as the coach set us down within ten minutes' walk of Elm Lodge. "I did not think I should have got the Bury St. Edmund's job over till to-morrow, and wrote her word not to expect me till she saw me; but she'll be glad enough to have somebody to enliven her, for the governor's in town, and Lucy Markham is gone to stay with one of her married sisters."

"I hope I shall not cause any inconvenience, or annoy your mother."

"Annoy my grandmother! and she was dead before I was born!" exclaimed Freddy disdainfully. "Why, bless your sensitive heart, nothing that I can do annoys my mother: if I chose to bring home a mad bull in fits, or half a dozen young elephants with the hooping-cough, she would not be annoyed." Thus a.s.sured, nothing remained for me but silent acquiescence, and in a few minutes we reached the house.

"Where's your mistress?" inquired Freddy of the man-servant who showed us into the drawing-room.

"Upstairs, sir, I believe; I'll send to let her know that you are arrived."

"Do so," replied Coleman, making a vigorous attack upon the fire.

"Why, Freddy, I thought you said your cousin was away from home?"

inquired I.

"So she is; and what's more, she won't be back for a fortnight," was the answer.

"Here's a young lady's bonnet, however," said I.

"Nonsense," replied he; "it must be one of my mother's."

"Does Mrs. Coleman wear such spicy affairs as this?" said I, holding up for his inspection a most piquant little velvet bonnet lined with pink.

"By Jove, no!" was the reply; "a mysterious young lady! I say, Frank, this is interesting."

As he spoke the door flew open, and Mrs. Coleman -254-- bustled in, in a great state of maternal affection, and fuss, and confusion, and agitation.

"Why, Freddy, my dear boy, I'm delighted to see you, only I wish you hadn't come just now;--and you too, Mr. Fairlegh--and such a small loin of mutton for dinner; but I'm so glad to see you--looking like a ghost, so pale and thin," she added, shaking me warmly by the hand; "but what I am to do about it, or to say to him when he comes back--only I'm not a prophet to guess things before they happen--and if I did I should always be wrong, so what use would that be, I should like to know?"

"Why, what's the row, eh, mother? the cat hasn't kittened, has she?"

asked Freddy.

"No, my dear, no, it's not that; but, your father being in town, it has all come upon me so unexpectedly; poor thing! and she looking so pretty, too; oh, dear! when I said I was all alone, I never thought I shouldn't be; and so he left her here."

"And who may her be?" inquired Freddy, setting grammar at defiance, "the cat or the governor?"

"Why, my love, it's very unlucky--very awkward indeed; but one comfort is we're told it's all for the best when everything goes wrong--a very great comfort that is if one could only believe it; but poor Mr. Vernor, you see he was quite unhappy, I'm sure, he looked so cross, and no wonder, having to go up to London all in a hurry, and such a cold day too."

At the mention of this name my attention, which had been gradually dying a natural death, suddenly revived, and it was with a degree of impatience, which I could scarcely restrain, that I awaited the conclusion of Mrs. Coleman's rambling account. After a great deal of circ.u.mlocution, of which I will mercifully spare the reader the infliction, the following facts were elicited:--About an hour before our arrival, Mr. Vernor, accompanied by his ward, had called to see Mr.

Coleman, and, finding he was from home, had asked for a few minutes'

conversation with the lady of the house. His reason for so doing soon appeared; he had received letters requiring his immediate presence in London on business, which might probably detain him for a day or two; and not liking to leave Miss Saville quite alone, he had called with the intention of begging Mrs. Coleman to allow her niece, Lucy Markham, to stay with her friend at Barstone Priory till his return, and to save her from the horrors of solitude. This plan being rendered impracticable by reason of Lucy's absence.

-255-- Mrs. Coleman proposed that Miss Saville should remain with her till Mr. Vernor's return, which, she added, would be conferring a benefit on her, as her husband and son being both from home, she was sadly dull without a companion. This plan having removed all difficulties, Mr. Vernor proceeded on his journey without further delay.

Good Mrs. Coleman's agitation on our arrival bad been produced by the consciousness that Mr. Vernor would by no means approve of the addition of two dangerous young men to the party; however, Freddy consoled her by the ingenious sophism that it was much better for us to have arrived together than for him to have returned alone, as we should now neutralise each other's attractions; and, while the young lady's pleasure in our society would be doubled, she would be effectually guarded against falling in love with either of us, by reason of the impossibility of her overlooking the equal merits of what Mrs. Coleman would probably have termed "the survivor ". Having settled this knotty point to his own satisfaction, and perplexed his mother into the belief that our arrival was rather a fortunate circ.u.mstance than otherwise, Freddy despatched her to break the glorious tidings, as he called it, to the young lady, cautioning her to do so carefully, and by degrees, for that joy was very often quite as dangerous in its effects as sorrow.

Having closed the door after her, he relieved his feelings by a slight extempore hornpipe, and then slapping me on the back, exclaimed, "Here's a transcendent go! if this ain't taking the change out of old Vernor, I'm a Dutchman. Frank, you villain, you lucky dog, you've got it all your own way this time; not a chance for me; I may as well shut up shop at once, and buy myself a pair of pumps to dance in at your wedding."

"My dear fellow, how can you talk such utter nonsense?" returned I, trying to persuade myself that I was not pleased, but annoyed, at his insinuations.

"It's no nonsense, Master Frank, but, as I consider it, a very melancholy statement of facts. Why, even putting aside your '_antecedents_,' as the French have it, the roasted wrist, the burnt ball-dress, and all the rest of it, look at your present advantages; here you are, just returned from the university, covered with academical honours, your cheeks paled by deep and abstruse study over the midnight lamp; your eyes flas.h.i.+ng with unnatural l.u.s.tre, indicative of an overwrought mind; a graceful languor softening the nervous energy of your manner, and imparting additional tenderness to the -256-- fascination of your address; in fact, till you begin to get into condition again you are the very beau ideal of what the women consider interesting and romantic."

"Well done, Freddy," replied I, "we shall discover a hidden vein of poetry in you some of these fine days; but talking of condition leads me to ask what time your good mother intends us to dine?"

"There, now you have spoilt it all," was the rejoinder; "however, viewed abstractedly, and without reference to the romantic, it's not such a bad notion either. I'll ring and inquire."

He accordingly did so, and, finding we had not above half an hour to wait, he proposed that we should go to our dressing-rooms and adorn before we attempted to face "the enemy," as he rudely designated Miss Saville.

It was not without a feeling of trepidation, for which I should have been at a loss to account, that I ventured to turn the handle of the drawing-room door, where I expected to find the party a.s.sembled before dinner. Miss Saville, who was seated on a low chair by Mrs. Coleman's side, rose quietly on my entrance, and advanced a step or two to meet me, holding out her hand with the unembarra.s.sed familiarity of an old acquaintance. The graceful ease of her manner at once restored my self-possession, and, taking her proffered hand, I expressed my pleasure at thus unexpectedly meeting her again.

"You might have come here a hundred times without finding me, although Mrs. Coleman is kind enough to invite me very often," she replied. "But I seldom leave home; Mr. Vernor always appears to dislike parting with me."

"I can easily conceive that," returned I; "nay, although, in common with your other friends, I am a sufferer by his monopoly, I can almost pardon him for yielding to so strong a temptation."

"I wish I could flatter myself that the very complimentary construction you put upon it were the true one," replied Miss Saville, blus.h.i.+ng slightly; "but I am afraid I should be deceiving myself if I were to imagine my society were at all indispensable to my guardian. I believe if you were to question him on the subject you would learn that his system is based rather on the Turkish notion, that, in order to keep a woman out of mischief, you must shut her up."