Ten Thousand a-Year Volume Ii Part 9

and there was written on it, in pencil, in rather a feeble and hurried character--"For Mr. t.i.tmouse."

"My stars, Mr. Gammon!" exclaimed t.i.tmouse, excitedly, addressing Mr.

Gammon, who also seemed greatly interested by the occurrence. They both repaired to a vacant table at the extremity of the room; and t.i.tmouse, with not a little trepidation, hastily breaking a large seal which bore the earl's family arms, with their crowded quarterings and grim supporters--better appreciated by Gammon, however, than by t.i.tmouse--opened the ample envelope, and, unfolding its thick gilt-edged enclosure, read as follows:--

"The Earl of Dreddlington has the honor of waiting upon Mr.

t.i.tmouse, in whom he is very happy to have, though unexpectedly, discovered so near a kinsman. On the event which has brought this to pa.s.s, the earl congratulates himself not less than Mr. t.i.tmouse, and hopes for the earliest opportunity of a personal introduction.

"The earl leaves town to-day and will not return till Monday next, on which day he begs the honor of Mr. t.i.tmouse's company to dinner, at six o'clock. He may depend upon its being strictly a family _reunion_; the only person present, besides Mr. t.i.tmouse and the earl, being the Lady Cecilia.

"Grosvenor Square, Thursday.

"t.i.tTLEBAT t.i.tMOUSE, ESQ., &c. &c."

As soon as t.i.tmouse had read the above, still holding it in his hand, he gazed at Gammon with mute apprehension and delight. Of the existence, indeed, of the magnificent personage who had just introduced himself, t.i.tmouse had certainly heard, from time to time, since the commencement of the proceedings which had just been so successfully terminated. He had seen the brightness, to be sure; but, as a sort of remote splendor, like that of a fixed star which gleamed brightly, but at too vast a distance to have any sensible influence, or even to arrest his attention. After a little while, t.i.tmouse began to chatter very volubly; but Gammon, after reading over the note once or twice, seemed not much inclined for conversation: and, had t.i.tmouse been accustomed to observation, he might have gathered, from the eye and brow of Gammon, that that gentleman's mind was very deeply occupied by some matter or other, probably suggested by the incident which had just taken place.

t.i.tmouse, by-and-by, called for pens, ink, and paper--"the very best gilt-edged paper, mind"--and prepared to reply to Lord Dreddlington's invitation. Gammon, however, who knew the peculiarities of his friend's style of correspondence, suggested that _he_ should draw up, and t.i.tmouse copy the following note. This was presently done; but when Gammon observed how thickly studded it was with capital letters, the numerous flourishes with which it was garnished, and its more than questionable orthography, he prevailed on t.i.tmouse, after some little difficulty, to allow him to transcribe the note which was to be sent to Lord Dreddlington. Here is a copy of that courteous doc.u.ment:--

"Mr. t.i.tmouse begs to present his compliments to the Earl of Dreddlington, and to express the high sense he entertains of the kind consideration evinced by his Lords.h.i.+p in his call and note of to-day.

"One of the most gratifying circ.u.mstances connected with Mr.

t.i.tmouse's recent success, is the distinguished alliance which his Lords.h.i.+p has been so prompt and courteous in recognizing. Mr.

t.i.tmouse will feel the greatest pleasure in availing himself of the Earl of Dreddlington's invitation to dinner for Monday next.

"Cabbage-Stalk Hotel, Thursday.

"The Right Honble. the EARL OF DREDDLINGTON, &c., &c."

"Have you a 'Peerage' here, waiter?" inquired Gammon, as the waiter brought him a lighted taper. _Debrett_ was shortly laid before him; and turning to the name of Dreddlington, he read over the paragraph which had been already laid before the reader. "Humph--_'Lady Cecilia'_--here she is--his _daughter_--I thought as much--I see!" This was what pa.s.sed through his mind, as--having left t.i.tmouse, who set off to deposit a card and the above "Answer" at Lord Dreddlington's--he made his way towards the delectable regions in which their office was situated--Saffron Hill. "'Tis curious--amusing--interesting, to observe the social progress of this charming little fellow"--continued Gammon to himself--

"_Tag-rag_--and his daughter;

"_Quirk_--and his daughter;

"_The Earl of Dreddlington_--and his daughter. How many more? Happy!

happy! happy t.i.tmouse!"

The sun which was rising upon t.i.tmouse was setting upon the Aubreys.

Dear, delightful--now too dear, now too delightful--Yatton! the shades of evening are descending upon thee, and thy virtuous but afflicted occupants, who, early on the morrow, quit thee forever. Approach silently you conservatory. Behold, in the midst of it, the dark slight figure of a lady, solitary, motionless, in melancholy att.i.tude--her hands clasped before her: it is Miss Aubrey. Her face is beautiful, but grief is in her eye; and her bosom heaves with sighs, which, gentle though they be, are yet the only sounds audible. Yes, that is the sweet and once joyous Kate Aubrey!

'Twas she indeed; and this was her last visit to her conservatory. Many rare, delicate, and beautiful flowers were there. The air was laden with the fragrant odors which they exhaled, as it were in sighs, on account of the dreaded departure of their lovely mistress. At length she stooped down, and, in stooping, a tear fell right upon the small sprig of geranium which she gently detached from its stem, and placed in her bosom. "Sweet flowers," thought she, "who will tend you as I have tended you, when I am gone? Why do you look now more beautiful than ever you did before?"--Her eye presently fell upon the spot on which, till the day before, had stood her aviary. Poor Kate had sent it, as a present, to Lady De la Zouch, and it was then at Fotheringham Castle. What a flutter there used to be among the beautiful little creatures, when they perceived Kate's approach! She turned her head away. She felt oppressed, and attributed it to the closeness of the conservatory--the strength of the odors given out by the numerous flowers; but it was sorrow that oppressed her; and she was in a state at once of mental excitement and physical exhaustion. The last few weeks had been an interval of exquisite suffering. She could not be happy alone, nor yet bear the company of her brother and sister-in-law, or their innocent and lovely children. Quitting the conservatory with a look of lingering fondness, she pa.s.sed along into the house with a hurried step, and escaped, un.o.bserved, to her chamber--the very chamber in which the reader obtained his first distant and shadowy glimpse of her; and in which, now entering it silently and suddenly, the door being only closed, not shut, she observed her faithful little maid Harriet, sitting in tears before a melancholy heap of packages prepared for travelling on the morrow. She rose as Miss Aubrey entered, and presently exclaimed pa.s.sionately, bursting afresh into tears, "Ma'am, I _can't_ leave you--indeed I can't!

I know all your ways; I won't go to any one else! I shall hate service!

and I know they'll hate _me_ too; for I shall cry myself to death!"

"Come, come, Harriet," faltered Miss Aubrey, "this is very foolish; nay, it is unkind to distress me in this manner at the last moment."

"Oh, ma'am, if you _did_ but know how I love you! How I'd go on my knees to serve you all the rest of the days of my life!"

"Don't talk in that way, Harriet; that's a good girl," said Miss Aubrey, rather faintly, and, sinking into the chair, she buried her face in her handkerchief, "you know I've had a great deal to go through, Harriet, and am in very poor spirits."

"I know it, ma'am, I do; and that's why I can't _bear_ to leave you!"

She sank on her knees beside Miss Aubrey. "Oh, ma'am, if you would but let me stay with you! I've been trying, ever since you first told me, to make up my mind to part with you, and, now it's coming to the time, I _can't_, ma'am--indeed, I can't! If you did but know, ma'am, what my thoughts have been, while I've been folding and packing up your dresses here! To think that I sha'n't be with you to unpack them! It's very hard, ma'am, that Madam's maid is to go with her, and I'm not to go with _you_!"

"We were obliged to make a choice, Harriet," said Miss Aubrey, with forced calmness.

"Yes, ma'am; but why didn't you choose us both? Because we've both always done our best; and, as for me, you've never spoke an unkind word to me in your life"----

"Harriet, Harriet," said Miss Aubrey, tremulously, "I've several times explained to you that we cannot any longer afford each to have our own maid; and Mrs. Aubrey's maid is older than you, and knows how to manage children"----

"What signifies _affording_, ma'am? Neither she nor I will ever take a s.h.i.+lling of wages; I'd really rather serve you for nothing, ma'am, than any other lady for a hundred pounds a-year! Oh, so happy as I've been in your service, ma'am!" she added hastily, and burst into an agony of weeping.

"Don't, Harriet!--You would not, if you knew the pain you give me," said Miss Aubrey, faintly. Harriet perceived Miss Aubrey's ill-concealed agitation; and starting aside, poured out a gla.s.s of water, and forced her pale mistress to swallow a little, which presently revived her.

"Harriet," said she, feebly, but firmly, "you have never once disobeyed me, and _now_ I am certain that you will not. I a.s.sure you that we have made all our arrangements, and cannot alter them. I have been very fortunate in obtaining for you so kind a mistress as Lady Stratton.

Remember, Harriet, she was the oldest bosom friend of my"----Miss Aubrey's voice trembled, and she ceased speaking for a minute or two, during which she struggled against her feelings with momentary success.

"Here's the prayer-book," she presently resumed, opening a drawer in her dressing-table, and taking out a small volume--"Here's the prayer-book I promised you; it is very prettily bound, and I have written your name in it, Harriet, as you desired. Take it, and keep it for my sake. Will you?"

"Oh, ma'am," replied the girl, bitterly, "I shall never bear to look at it! And yet I'll never part with it till I die!"

"Now leave me, Harriet, for a short time--I wish to be alone," said Miss Aubrey; and she was obeyed. She presently rose and bolted the door; and then, secure from interruption, walked slowly to and fro for some time; and a long and deep current of melancholy thoughts and feelings flowed through her mind and heart. She had but a short time before seen her sister's sweet children put into their little beds for the last time at Yatton; and together with their mother, had hung fondly over them, kissing and embracing them--their destined little fellow-wanderers--till her feelings compelled her to leave them. One by one, all the dear innumerable ties which had attached her to Yatton, and to everything connected with it, ever since her birth, had been severed and broken--ties, not only the strength, but very existence of which, she had scarce been aware of, till then. She had bade--as had all of them--repeated and agonizing farewells to very dear and old friends. Her heart trembled as she gazed at the objects familiar to her eye, and pregnant with innumerable little softening a.s.sociations, ever since her infancy. Nothing around them now belonged to _them_--but to a stranger--to one who--she shuddered with disgust. She thought of the fearful position in which her brother was placed--entirely at the mercy of, it might be, selfish and rapacious men--what indeed was to become of all of them? At length she threw herself into the large old easy-chair which stood near the window, and with a fluttering heart and hasty tremulous hand, drew an open letter from her bosom. She held it for some moments, as if dreading again to peruse it--but at length unfolded and read a portion of it. 'Twas full of fervent and at the same time delicate expressions of fondness; and after a short while, her hand dropped, with the letter, upon her lap, and she burst into a pa.s.sionate flood of tears. After an interval of several minutes, she again took up the letter--read a little farther--still more and more moved by the generous and n.o.ble sentiments it contained--and at length, utterly overcome, she again dropped her hand, and sobbed aloud long and vehemently. "It cannot--cannot--no, it _cannot_ be," she murmured; and, yielding to her feelings for a long while, her tears showered down her pallid, beautiful cheeks.

At length, having resumed her perusal of the letter, she came to the conclusion. In a kind of agony she pressed the signature to her lips; and then hastily folding up the letter, replaced it whence she had taken it, and continued sobbing bitterly. Alas, what additional poignancy did this give to the agonies of her last evening at Yatton! She had, however, become somewhat calmer by the time that she heard the door hastily, but gently tapped at, and then attempted to be opened. Miss Aubrey rose and unbolted it, and Mrs. Aubrey entered, her beautiful countenance as pale and sad as that of her sister-in-law. The former, however, was both wife and mother; and the various cares which these relations had entailed upon her, at a bitter moment like the present, served in some measure to occupy her thoughts, and prevent her from being absorbed by the heart-breaking circ.u.mstances which surrounded her.

Suffering had, however, a little impaired her beauty; her cheek was very pale, and her eye and brow were laden with trouble.

"Kate, dear Kate," said she, rather quickly, closing the door after her, "what is to be done? Did you hear carriage-wheels a few moments ago? Who do you think have arrived? As I fancied would be the case, the De la Zouches!" Miss Aubrey trembled and turned pale. "You must see--you _must_ see--Lady De la Zouch, Kate--they have driven from Fotheringham on purpose to take--_once more_--a last farewell! 'Tis very painful, but what can be done? You know what dear, dear, good friends they are!"

"Is Lord De la Zouch come, also?" inquired Miss Aubrey, apprehensively.

"I will not deceive you, dearest Kate, they are _all_ come; but _she_, only, is in the house: they are gone out to look for Charles, who is walking in the park." Miss Aubrey trembled violently; and after evidently a severe struggle with her feelings, the color having entirely deserted her face, and left it of an ashy whiteness, "I cannot muster up resolution enough, Agnes," she whispered. "I know their errand!"

"Care not about their errand, love!" said Mrs. Aubrey, embracing her fondly. "You shall not be troubled--you shall not be persecuted." Miss Aubrey shook her head, and grasped Mrs. Aubrey's hand.

"They do not, Agnes, they _cannot_ persecute me," replied Miss Aubrey, with energy. "It is a cruel and harsh word to use--and!--consider how n.o.ble, how disinterested is their conduct; _that_ it is which subdues me!"

Mrs. Aubrey embraced still more closely her agitated sister-in-law, and tenderly kissed her forehead.

"Oh, Agnes!" faltered Miss Aubrey, pressing her hand upon her heart to relieve the intolerable oppression which she suffered--"would to Heaven that I had never seen--never thought of him!"

"Don't fear, Kate! that he will attempt to see you on so sad an occasion as this. Delamere is a man of infinite delicacy and generosity!"

"I know he is--I know he is," gasped Miss Aubrey, almost suffocated with her emotions.

"Stay, I'll tell you what to do; I'll go down and return with Lady De la Zouch: we can see her here, undisturbed and alone, for a few moments; and then, nothing painful _can_ occur. Shall I bring her?" she inquired, rising. Miss Aubrey did not dissent; and, within a very few minutes'

time, Mrs. Aubrey returned, accompanied by Lady De la Zouch. She was rather an elderly woman. Her countenance was still handsome; and she possessed a very dignified carriage. She was of an extremely affectionate disposition, and pa.s.sionately fond of Miss Aubrey. Hastily drawing aside her veil as she entered the room, she stepped quickly up to Miss Aubrey, kissed her, and grasped her hands, for some moments, in silence.

"This is very sad work, Miss Aubrey," said she at length, hurriedly glancing at the luggage lying piled up at the other end of the room.

Miss Aubrey made no answer, but shook her head. "It was useless attempting it, dear Kate--we _could_ not stay at home; we have risked being charged with cruel intrusion; forgive me, dearest, will you?

_They_," said Lady De la Zouch, pointedly, "will not come near you!"

Miss Aubrey trembled. "I feel as if I were parting with an only daughter, Kate," said Lady De la Zouch, with sudden emotion. "How your mamma and I loved one another!" said she, fondly, and burst into tears.