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"I see," interrupted Major Carlen, displaying his large and regular teeth--a habit of his when not pleased. He had rapidly taken up an idea, and it angered him. "Is this the parson, Blanche? He looks very sanctimonious."
"Oh, papa!" she returned, feeling ready to cry at his contemptuous tone. "He is the best man that ever lived. Everyone loves and respects him."
"Hope it's merited, my dear," concluded the Major, as he met the hand of the Reverend John Ravensworth.
Ere middle-day, the Major had scattered a small bombsh.e.l.l through the parsonage by announcing that he had come to take his daughter away.
Blanche felt it bitterly. It was her home, and a happy one. To exchange it for the Major's did not look now an inviting prospect.
Though she would not acknowledge it to her own heart, she was beginning to regard him with more awe than love. That the resolution must have been suddenly formed she knew, for he had not come down with any intention of removing her.
"Papa, my things can never be ready," was her last forlorn argument, when others had failed.
"Things?" said the Major. "Trunks, and clothes, and rattle-traps?
They can be sent after you, Blanche."
"I have a bird," cried Blanche, her eyes filling. "There it is, in the cage."
"Leave it as a souvenir to the Rectory. Blanche, don't be a child. I have pictured you as one hitherto, but now that I see you I find my mistake. You must be thinking of other things, my dear."
And thus Blanche Heriot was hurried away. All the parsonage escorted her to the station, the girls in tears, and she almost heart-broken.
Of late years Major Carlen had been almost always in debt and difficulty. His property was mortgaged. His only certainty was his half-pay; but he was lucky at cards, and often luckier at betting. He retained his club and his visiting connection, and dined out three parts of his time. Just now he was up in the world, having scored a prize on some winter racecourse, and he was back in his house in Gloucester Place. It had been let furnished for three years, portions of which time the Major had spent abroad.
"It will be very dull for me, papa," sighed Blanche, as they were whirling along in an express train. "I dare say you are out all day long, as you used to be."
"Not dull at all," said the Major. "You must make Mrs. Guy take you out and about."
"Mrs. Guy!" exclaimed Blanche, her blue eyes opening widely. "Is she in London?"
"Yes, and a fine old guy she is; more ridiculously nervous than ever,"
replied the Major. "She arrived unexpectedly from Jersey one evening last week, and quartered herself upon Gloucester Place; for an indefinite period, no doubt. She did this once before, if you remember, in your poor mamma's time."
"She will be something in the way of company for me," said Blanche with another sigh.
"Aye! She is a stupid goose, but you'll be safer under her wing and mine than you would have been ruralising in the fields and the parsonage garden with that Arnold Ravensworth. I have eyes, Miss Blanche."
So had Blanche, especially just then; and they were wide open and fixed upon the Major.
"Doing what, papa?" cried she.
"I saw his drift: 'Blanche' this, and 'Blanche' the other, and his arm put out for you at every turn! No, no; I do not leave you there to be converted into Mrs. Arnold Ravensworth."
Blanche clasped her hands and broke into merry laughter. "Oh, papa, what an idea!--how could you imagine it? Why, he is going to marry Mary Stopford."
Major Carlen looked blank. Had he made all this inconvenient haste for nothing?
"Who the deuce is Mary Stopford?"
"She lives in Devons.h.i.+re. A pale, gentle girl with nice eyes: I have seen her picture. Arnold wears it attached to a little chain inside his waistcoat. They are to be married in the autumn when the House is up. The very notion of my marrying Arnold Ravensworth!" broke off Blanche with another laugh. A laugh that was quite sufficient to prove the fact that she was heart-whole.
"The House!" repeated the Major. "Who is he, then?"
"He is very well off as to fortune, and is--something. It has to do with the House, not as a Member, though he will be that soon, I believe. I think he is secretary to one of the Ministers. His father was the elder brother, and the Reverend John Ravensworth the younger.
There is a very great difference in their positions. Arnold is well-off, and said to be a rising man."
Every word increased Major Carlen's vexation. Even had his fear been correct, it seemed that the young man would not have been an undesirable match for Blanche, and he had saddled himself with her at a most inconvenient moment!
"Well, well," thought he; "she will soon make her mark, unless I am mistaken, and there's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it."
Mrs. Guy, widow of the late Admiral Guy, vegetating for years past upon her slight income in Jersey, was Major Carlen's younger sister, and a smaller edition of himself. She had the same generally fair-featured face, with the twisted nose and the gray eyes; but while his eyes were hard and fierce, hers were soft and kindly. She was a well-meaning, but indescribably silly woman; and her nervous fears and fancies had so grown upon her that they were becoming a disease. Lying before the fire on a sofa in her bedroom, she received Blanche with a flood of tears, supplemented by several moans. The tears were caused by the pleased surprise; the moans at her having come home on a Friday, for that must surely betoken ill-luck. Blanche was irreverent enough to laugh.
Major Carlen still counted a few acquaintances of consideration in the social world, and Miss Heriot was introduced to them. Mrs. Guy was persuaded to temporarily forget her ailments, and to act as chaperon.
The Major gave his sister a new dress and bonnet, and a cap or two; and as she had not yet quite done with vanity (has a woman _ever_ done with it?), she fell before the bribe.
He had been right in his opinion that Blanche's beauty would not fail to make its mark. So charming a girl, so lovely of face and graceful of form, so innocent of guile, had not been seen of late. Before the spring had greatly advanced, a Captain Cross made proposals for her to the Major. He was of excellent family, and offered fair settlements.
The Major accepted him, not deeming it at all necessary to consult his daughter.
Blanche rebelled. "I don't care for him, papa," she objected.
The Major gave his nose a twist. He did not intend to have any trouble with Blanche, and would not allow her to begin it.
"Not care!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What does that matter? Captain Cross is a fine man, stands six feet one, and you'll care for him in time."
"But, before I consent to marry him, I ought to know whether I shall like him or not."
"Blanche, you are a dunce! You have been smothered up in that parsonage till you know nothing. Do you suppose that in our cla.s.s of society it is usual to fall in love, as the ploughboys and milkmaids do? People marry first, and grow accustomed to each other afterwards.
Whatever you do, my dear, don't betray _gaucherie_ of that kind."
Blanche Heriot doubted. She never supposed but that he whom she called father had her true interest at heart, and must be so acting. Mrs.
Guy, too, unconsciously swayed her. A martyr to poverty herself, she believed that in marrying one so well-off as Captain Cross, a girl must enter upon the seventh heaven of happiness. Altogether, Blanche yielded; yielded against her inclination and her better judgment. She consented to marry Captain Cross, and preparations were begun.
Meanwhile, Arnold Ravensworth had been an occasional visitor at Major Carlen's, the Major making no sort of objection, now that circ.u.mstances were explained: indeed, he encouraged him there, and was especially cordial. Major Carlen had invariably one eye on the world and the other on self-interest, and it occurred to him that a rising man, as Arnold Ravensworth beyond doubt was, might prove useful to him in one way or another.
One evening, when it was yet only the beginning of April, Mr.
Ravensworth called in Gloucester Place, and found the Major alone.
"Are Mrs. Guy and Blanche out?" he asked.
"They are upstairs with the dressmaker," replied the Major. "We sent to her to-day to spur on with Blanche's things, and she has come to-night for fresh orders."
"Is the marriage being hurried on, Major?"
"Time is creeping on, sir," was the gruff answer.
"Are they getting ahead with the settlements? When I saw you last week, you were in a way at the delay, and said lawyers had only been invented for one's torment."
"They got on, after that, and the deeds were ready and waiting for signature. But I dropped them a note yesterday to say they might burn them, as so much waste paper," returned the Major.