Heartsease; Or, The Brother's Wife Part 87

'O, Theodora has been so very kind to me.'

'I rejoice to hear it; but tell me, will this evening or to-morrow morning suit you best?'

'Thank you, to-morrow, if you please,' said Violet, glad to defer the evil day.

At that moment she was astonished by the sudden apparition of Lord St.

Erme, and still more by his shaking hands with her. She thanked him for his touches to her little boy's portrait; he smiled, rejoiced that she did not think he had spoilt it, and remarked upon the likeness. Lord Martindale, who knew him but slightly, listened in surprise; and having now come to her own door, she bade them farewell, and entered the house.

Theodora came back much later than Violet had expected, with a flush on her cheek, and hurry and uncertainty in her manner. She had previously made a great point of their spending this last evening alone together, but her mood was silent. She declared herself bent on finis.h.i.+ng the volume of Miss Strickland's "Queens", which they were reading together, and went on with it till bed-time without intermission, then wished Violet good night without another word.

But Violet was no sooner in bed than Theodora came in, in her dressing-gown, and sat down at her feet, looking at her, but hardly answering the few words she ventured to speak. It was not till the clock struck twelve that she rose from her seat.

'Well, I must go; but I don't know how to tear myself from the sight of you. I feel as if I was driven from the only place where I ever might be good.'

'No,' whispered Violet; 'wherever our duty lies, we can be good.'

'I could, if you were with me, to calm me, and tell me such things.'

'You do not want me to tell you them. You have the Bible and Prayer Book.'

'I never saw the right way to follow them; till now, when it was gleaming on me, I have to go away.'

'The same grace that has shown you your way so far, dearest, will go on to show you further, if you follow it on, even though the way be hard!'

'The grace may be with you--it is!' said Theodora, in a heavy, hopeless manner; 'but oh! Violet, think how long I have been driving it away!'

Violet sat up, took her hand, pressed it between both hers, and with tears exclaimed: 'You must not speak so. If you had not that grace, should you be sorry now?'

'I don't know. I can hope and see my way to peace when you look at me, or speak to me; but why should I be forced into the desert of my own heart, to loneliness and temptation?'

'If you are really resting on me, instead of on the only true help, perhaps it is better you should be left to it. Theodora, dearest, may I tell you something about myself? When first I saw my difficulties, and could not get at mamma, I felt as if there was no one to help me, but somehow it grew up. I saw how to find out guidance and comfort in the Bible and in such things, and ever since I have been so much happier.'

'How did you find it out?'

'John helped me; but I think it comes without teaching from without, and there is my hope for you, Theodora.'

'Them that are meek shall He guide in judgment, and such as are gentle, them shall He learn His way,' murmured Theodora, hanging over her, with tears fast dropping.

'He shows Himself to those who will follow Him, and yield their own will,' said Violet.

'Good night! Oh! what shall I do when I have not you to send me to bed comforted? I had more to say to you, but you have smoothed it all, and I cannot ruffle it up again.'

A night of broken sleep, and perplexed waking thoughts, was a bad preparation for the morning's conference. Lord Martindale came to breakfast, and, as before, reserved all his kindness for Violet and the children. Theodora disappeared when the little ones were carried away, and he began the conversation by saying to Violet, 'I am afraid you have had a great deal of trouble and vexation.'

She replied by warm a.s.surances of Theodora's kindness; whence he led her to tell the history of the rupture, which she did very mournfully, trying to excuse Theodora, but forbidden, by justice to Percival; and finding some relief in taking blame to herself for not having remonstrated against that unfortunate expedition to the races.

'No, my dear, it was no fault of yours. It was not from one thing more than another. It was owing to unhappy, unbroken temper. Take care of your children, my dear, and teach them submission in time.' Then presently resuming: 'Is it your idea that she had any attachment to poor Fotheringham?'

'Much more than she knew at the time,' said Violet.

'Ha! Then you do not think she has given encouragement to that absurd-looking person, Lord St. Erme?'

'Lord St. Erme!' cried Violet, startled.

'Yes; when I parted with you yesterday, he walked back with me, and proceeded to declare that he had been long attached to her, and to ask my sanction to his following us to Germany to pay his addresses.'

'Surely he has not spoken to her?'

'No; he said something about not presuming, and of having been interrupted. I could only tell him that it must rest with herself. There is no objection to the young man, as far as I know, though he is an idle, loitering sort of fellow, not what I should have thought to her taste.'

'I do not believe she likes him,' said Violet.

'You do not? I cannot make out. I told her that she was at liberty to do as she pleased; I only warned her neither to trifle with him, nor to rush into an engagement without deliberation, but I could get nothing like an answer. She was in one of her perverse fits, and I have no notion whether she means to accept him or not.'

'I do not think she will.'

'I cannot say. No one knows, without a trial, what the notion of a coronet will do with a girl. After all her pretensions she may be the more liable to the temptation. I have not told her aunt, that she may be the more unbia.s.sed. Not that I say anything against him, it is everything desirable in the way of connection, and probably he is an amiable good sort of man. What do you know of him! Are you intimate with him?'

Violet explained the extent of their acquaintance. 'I do not see my way through it,' said Lord Martindale. 'I wish I could be clear that it is not all coquetry. I wish John was at home.'

'I do not think,' said Violet, gathering courage--'I do not think you know how much Theodora wishes to be good.'

'I wish she was half as good as you are, my dear!' said Lord Martindale, as if he had been speaking to a child. And he talked to her warmly of her own concerns, and hopes of her visiting Martindale on their return; trying to divest himself of a sense of inhospitality and harshness, which grew on him whenever he looked at her slender figure, and the varying carnation of her thin cheek.

She felt herself obliged to set forth to call on Lady Martindale.

Theodora was busy, packing up, and could not accompany her; unfortunately for her, since Mrs. Nesbit took the opportunity of examining her on the same subject, though far from doing it in the same manner; commenting with short sarcastic laughs, censuring Mr.

Fotheringham for trying to domineer, but finding much amus.e.m.e.nt in making out the grounds of his objection to Mrs. Finch, and taking pleasure in bringing, by her inquiries, a glow of confusion and distress on Violet's cheeks. Next she began to blame her for having visited such an imprudent person; and when Lady Martindale ventured to suggest something about her not knowing, and Mrs. Finch having formerly been a friend of the family, she put her down. 'Yes, my dear, we are not blaming Mrs. Arthur Martindale. We know it is not possible for every one to be fastidious. The misfortune was in Miss Martindale's being brought into society which could not be expected to be select.'

Violet did not think herself called upon to stay to be insulted, and rose to take leave, but did not escape without further taunts. 'So you are to be in London alone for the next month?'

'Perhaps only for a fortnight!'

'I can promise you that it will be a month. Young men are not apt to spend more time at home than they can help. I am sorry to interfere with your scheme of being installed at Martindale, but it is out of the question. Theodora's absence has been much felt by the curate, and our past experience has prepared us for anything. I hope you will take care of yourself.'

Mrs. Nesbit, as she lost her power of self-command and her cleverness, without parting with her bitterness of spirit, had pitiably grown worse and worse, so that where she would once have been courteously sarcastic, she was now positively insolent.

It was too much for Lady Martindale, who, as she saw Violet colour deeply, and tremble as she left the room, followed her to the head of the stairs, and spoke kindly. 'You must not imagine, my dear, that either my aunt, or any of us, find fault with you. We all know that you are inexperienced, and that it is not easy to cope with Theodora's eccentricity of character.'

Violet, still very weak, could have been hysterical, but luckily was able to command herself, though, 'thank you!' was all she could say.

'Of course, though such things are unfortunate, we cannot regret the match; Lord Martindale and I are quite convinced that you acted amiably by all parties. Good-bye, my dear; I am sorry I have not time to call and see the children.'

'Shall I send them to you when they wake?' said Violet, pleased that they were at length mentioned.

'Thank you, my dear,' said Lady Martindale, as if much tempted. 'I am afraid not, it might be too much for my aunt. And yet, I should have liked to see the little girl.'

'She is such a beauty,' said Violet, much brightened. 'So exactly like her papa.'

'I should like to see her! You have your carriage here, of course!'