Dilemmas of Pride Volume I Part 9

One day, however, when that lady was driving up and down the High-street, seated at her ease in her sister, Lady Arden's peculiarly splendid open barouche, she beheld, trudging along the flag-way and coming towards her, Mr. and the Misses Salter, with countenances which betrayed that they were not insensible to the heat of the weather; and shoes so a.s.similated by dust to the dust on which they trod, as to be nearly invisible. Mrs. Dorothea was not aware that the Salters had ever before seen her in this elegant carriage: so anxious was she therefore that they should do so now, that on the impulse of the moment, in defiance of having long since given them the cut direct, she made an almost involuntary, yet very conspicuous bow. Electrified and delighted, the whole party stopped short and performed no less than three bows each in return; while Miss Salter, who had by much the greatest portion of moral courage of the whole trio, added even a kiss of the hand.

Miss Dorothea had not been long returned home when she received a card of invitation from the Misses Salter to a quadrille party, accompanied by a long servile note, to say that they were much concerned at not having had earlier it in their power to offer some attention to her friends, Lady Arden and family, and also to her friend Lady Palliser, and begging to know if their waiting upon, and sending cards of invitation to these respective ladies would be agreeable.

To this was added a hint, that indeed the party was in a great measure made for her friends and would be very _select_.

To the invitation for herself, Mrs. Dorothea sent a formal rejection, without a.s.signing any reason. Of the absurd and forward proffer of _attention_ to her _friends_ she took no notice.

Nor were those dignified proceedings the sole mode of vengeance practised by Mrs. Dorothea against her pitiful foes; for much as she was herself engaged at present with more agreeable occupations, she had placed the affair from the commencement in such able hands, namely, those of her prime minister, Sarah, that no circ.u.mstance, however minute, had been lost sight of.

The origin of the Salters, by its coa.r.s.est appellation, had been diligently disseminated in every servant's hall, and thence arisen to the respective dining and drawing-rooms, till it had reached the ears of many, who else had never known that there were such people in existence as the Salters.

What was if possible worse, Sir William Orm's servant in particular had been put on his guard about the deception practised on him by Mrs.

Johnson, respecting the young ladies' fortunes; on which Sir William had without the slightest ceremony cut the connexion altogether. He never called or even left a card; he never joined them any where, and as to the bows he gave them in return for those they made to him from a mile off, they were really, except to persons in desperate circ.u.mstances, not worth having.

Sir James, it may be remembered, had deserted on the very first morning he had encountered Louisa Arden; so that disconsolate indeed were now the pair who had so lately congratulated themselves on having two baronets for their lovers.

Their _select_ acquaintance too, the Shawbridges and Whaleworthys, began to play fine; for in a watering place a t.i.tle is a t.i.tle, whether got by accident or by cheese, and though both beef and cheese, like all other necessaries, are sad vulgar things, experience had taught even the innocent hearted Lady Whaleworthy, that with a certain cla.s.s, and she poor woman dreamed of no better, a t.i.tle could cover a mult.i.tude of _cheeses_.

Not so, alas, with the Misses Salter's _family secret_, which seemed for the present to have abolished all variety of diet, for (crying injustice!) while scarcely any body would visit Mr. Salter, Mr. Salter's beef was, to quote Sarah's polite pun, "in every body's mouth!"

People could not even propound the flattering probability of his having ama.s.sed a large fortune without some one more witty than elegant adding the characteristic remark, that while salting his beef it was supposed he had taken care to save his bacon.

To complete the unfortunate position of the family, Mr. Salter had unluckily found it necessary of late, in consequence of an aggravation of his old complaint of the eyelids, to wear, protruding from beneath the brim of his white hat, a _green_ silk shade, which gave occasion to the idlers on the Mountpelier-walk, green being the well known colour of disappointment, to a.s.sert that he had done so in consequence of the cruel desertion of Lady Flamborough, who had, simultaneously with the appearance of the said badge of despair, jilted him for a half-pay lieutenant; a gentleman who having received a hint to retire from the service of his Majesty, for reasons best known to himself and his brother officers, had come to Cheltenham to devote himself to the service of the ladies.

Nor had poor Mr. Salter, while dragged every day to the walks by his daughters, who now had no one else to walk with, a chance of forgetting his fair deceiver; for there she was to be seen morning and evening as gaily _undressed_ as ever, flaunting away and smiling and languis.h.i.+ng as usual; her white ostrich feathers too, at the highly improper instigation of the breezes, mingling from time to time with the bright red whiskers of the ci-devant lieutenant; while she, ungrateful woman, had the barbarity to pa.s.s poor Mr. Salter again and again, without so much as a recognition. "And that after," as he himself remarked, "having had the face to eat his good dinners;" the remembrance of the cost of which now added bitterness to the thoughts of slighted love.

This was the morning too of the very day, or rather evening, fixed for Lady Palliser's fancy ball, with the expectation of which the whole town was ringing. Even the walks were thinned by its prospective influence, or rather picked of fas.h.i.+onables; for those who were to be there, were keeping themselves up, that they might be quite fresh for an occasion to which the very capriciousness of her ladys.h.i.+p's character had lent, in antic.i.p.ation at least, a more than common interest.

The Misses Salter, after weighing for two or three turns the poor chance which sad experience had taught them there was of their picking up a beau of any kind, against the certain disgrace of showing by their wretchedness of fatigue that they were not to be among the _elite_ of the evening, decided on going home to their breakfast, which social meal commenced in a sulk and ended in a storm.

Miss Grace began again about the improvidence of cutting Mrs. Dorothea in the premature manner they had done. "And it was all your fault, Eliza," she continued, "that insolent temper of yours is always longing so for an opportunity to break out; and yet there is n.o.body that can sneak and cringe in the mean fawning manner that you can when you think there is any thing to be got by a person. If my advice had been taken, we would have been acquainted with all these genteel people, and going to this ball to-night, no doubt. To do Mrs. Dorothea justice, she was quite indefatigable in her kindness, and in getting people to call on us and invite us as long as we showed her any kind of grat.i.tude; so we have ourselves to thank, or rather you for it all."

"Your advice indeed, you fool!" was all Miss Salter could find to say; having, as she could not help knowing, the worst of the argument.

"It all comes of _pride_, and upstartishness, and nonsense," said Mr.

Salter. "Grace, the girl, however, is so far right; Mrs. Dorothea Arden is a very worthy gentlewoman, and showed us a great deal more civility than in our station of life we had any right to look for; and it certainly was our place to be very grateful for it, and if we have not been so it is no fault of mine; I knew nothing of the carryings on of you Misses with your boarding-school breeding forsooth."

CHAPTER XVIII.

In consequence of the expected ball in the evening, neither the Palliser nor Arden party had been at the walks in the morning. But soon after breakfast Alfred called at Lady Palliser's with his usual offering of sweets.

Caroline had just entered the drawing-room, and was proceeding towards a conservatory at its further extremity, when the appearance of Alfred arrested her steps.

He a.s.sisted her in arranging the flowers he had brought, and in selecting from them the favoured few she was to wear herself. This task drew from him some playful remark, more love-like than rational, on the good fortune of the happy blossoms thus chosen.

Lady Palliser had been particularly harsh that morning about some trifle, and Caroline was consequently in very bad spirits.

"Why should it be good fortune to be chosen by me," she said, "when I am myself the most unfortunate of beings? The poor flowers that I choose,"

she added with a faint effort to laugh, fearful she had said too much, "will be the first to fade away," quoting Moore's little song.

"Or the young gazelle, with its soft black eye, If it _loved you well would be sure to die_,"

proceeded Alfred, humming the air and continuing the quotation; then in a half playful, half tender whisper, he subjoined, "The death-warrant of many of whom your ladys.h.i.+p little thinks would be already signed and sealed were this the case." But perceiving while he spoke that though Caroline tried to smile her lip trembled, he checked himself, and with an altered tone exclaimed, "I beg a thousand pardons! You are--you seem--what can have--"

"Oh, nothing," she replied, "only other young people are light-hearted and cheerful together; there are your sisters for instance, how happy they always seem to be; and how kind to you all--how indulgent, how affectionate, Lady Arden appears. While I have neither sister, nor brother, and yet my mother"--here checking herself, she added hesitatingly, "I dare say--it must be my own fault--I suppose I don't deserve to be loved--but I am quite sure that--that--my mother does not love me--and oh, if you knew how miserable the thought makes me!"

"You cannot be serious," he said.

"I am indeed!" she replied, looking up with innocent earnestness, while her eyes swam in tears.

Alfred caught her hand, pressed it to his lips, talked incoherently about the impossibility of knowing without loving her, then of his own unworthiness, his presumption, his poverty, his insignificance, &c. &c.; his being in short a younger son; and at length wound up all by making, notwithstanding, a pa.s.sionate declaration of his love. If affection the most devoted, the most unalterable, had any value in her eyes, affection that would study her every wish, affection such as he was convinced no lover had ever felt before; if such affection could in any degree compensate for the absence of every other pretension, such, unable longer to suppress his feeling, he now ventured to lay at her feet.

Caroline trembled and remained silent. He entreated her to speak, to relieve him from the fear that he had offended her past forgiveness by the very mention of his perhaps too daring suit.

"Does--my mother--know?" she whispered at last, "because--if not--I fear--"

"Lady Palliser I think," he replied, "must know, must understand; nay, I have ventured to allude slightly to the subject, and have even been presumptuous enough to translate her ladys.h.i.+p's kindly and indulgent admission of my constant visits as, however liberal on her part, a tacit consent to my addresses."

"Oh, I hope you are right!" exclaimed Caroline, with an inadvertent earnestness which called forth from Alfred grat.i.tude the most profuse, expressed, not indeed loudly, but in whispers so tender, so eloquent, that for some moments, Caroline, forgetting every thing but their import, felt a happiness she had never known before. New and delightful prospects of futurity seemed opening before her youthful imagination, hitherto so cruelly depressed. Her countenance, though covered with blushes, and studiously turned away to hide them, so far indicated what was pa.s.sing within, as to encourage Alfred in adding,

"To-morrow, then, when Lady Palliser may possibly be at home, may I venture to speak to her ladys.h.i.+p on this subject?"

After a short silence, Caroline replied with hesitation,

"Yes--I--suppose--you had better."

But she sighed heavily as she said so, for she dreaded the strange and whimsical temper of Lady Palliser; yet she now found that a feeling of consolation accompanied what had hitherto been her greatest sorrow, the sense of her mother's want of affection; for perhaps, she thought, she may not care enough about me to mind what I do! Here all her efforts at self-possession gave way, and she yielded to a pa.s.sion of tears.

Alfred had been holding her hand, and anxiously watching her countenance; he became alarmed, and began to suspect, that perhaps she was herself undecided. "What can this mean?" he cried. "You do not repent of the permission you have given me? Caroline! say you do not!

Say I am wrong in this!"

She raised her eyes and moved her lips to reply, when a loud electrifying knock was heard at the hall door. The look however had so far rea.s.sured Alfred, that he again pressed her hand to his lips, and repeated with an inquiring tone, "To-morrow, then?" Footsteps were heard in the hall; the drawing-room door opened, and Alfred hastily disappeared, while a servant entering, laid cards on the table and retired.

Caroline was hastening towards the conservatory to take refuge there till her agitation should subside, when the Venetian blind which hung over its entrance was moved aside, and her mother appeared before her, scorn and rage depicted in her countenance.

Our heroine, her footsteps thus unexpectedly arrested, stopped short in the centre of the apartment, and stood trembling from head to foot.

From behind the Venetian blind, Lady Palliser had witnessed the whole of the interview between the lovers.

She was not herself previously aware that the heartless coquetry in which she had been indulging had taken so strong a hold even of her bad feelings; but disappointed vanity was perhaps a mortification she had never known before. She therefore scarcely herself understood the species of rage with which she was now animated; the almost hatred with which she now looked on the perfect loveliness of her blus.h.i.+ng, trembling child. Of course, on prudential considerations she would have disapproved of the match at any rate; and of this she now made an excuse to herself.

She stepped forward, and when close before Caroline, stamped her foot, uttered an ironical, hysterical laugh, and almost gasping for breath, stood some moments ere she could well articulate.

"You piece of premature impudence!" were the first words she at length p.r.o.nounced. After pausing again for a moment, she recommenced with a sneer, "So you have made your arrangement. I must congratulate you on Mr. Arden's obliging acceptance of your liberal offer, of heart, hand, and fortune!"