the eldest miss crofton was enthusiastically delighted when the intelligence of mrs. baldwin's unexpected return to chayleigh reached her, which was on the morning after the event. it was very natural that she should like the importance which she acquired in the small but almost distressingly respectable circle of society in which she "moved," as the unaccountable phrase in use goes, from her position in regard to mrs. baldwin. to her the willises, &c., looked for the latest intelligence concerning margaret; to her the excellent, if rather too inexorably managing, wife of the rector of the parish--a lady known to the population as "the reverend mrs. carroll"--intrusted the task of procuring donations from mr. baldwin for a startling number of "charitable purposes," and through the discursive medium of her letters haldane conducted his correspondence by proxy with his sister.
the eldest miss crofton entertained one supreme ambition. it was that she might become margaret's "particular friend," confidante, and, eventually, favourite sister-in-law. she had not as yet attained any of the degrees of the position to which she aspired, but that slight impediment by no means interfered with her assumption, for the edification of her friends and the general public, of the completed character.
she entertained considerable jealousy of lady davyntry, who was, she argued, in her frequent cogitations on this subject, much older than margaret, and "not a bit more" her sister-in-law than she (lucy crofton) was destined to be at no distant time. she was particularly well pleased to learn that lady davyntry had not accompanied her brother and his wife on their return to england, and promised herself, within five minutes of her having learned that margaret was at chayleigh, that she would make the most of the opportunity now open to her.
it was not altogether, it was indeed not much, from self-interest, or any mean variety of that pervading meanness, that the eldest miss crofton proposed to herself to be "great friends" with mrs. baldwin; there was a good deal of real girlish enthusiasm about her, and it found a natural outlet in the direction of vehement admiration for the sister of her future husband,--admiration not disturbed by any perception or suspicion of her own inferiority. such a suspicion was by no means likely to suggest itself to lucy crofton in connection with any one, especially at the present interesting and important epoch of her life--for she knew, as well as any young lady in england, how to exploiter the great fact of being "engaged."
as for margaret, she liked the pretty, lively, passably well-bred girl well enough for her own, and was resolved to like her better, and to befriend her in every possible way, for her brother's, sake; but a missish intimacy of the kind which lucy longed for was completely foreign to her tastes and habits. while lucy crofton pleased herself by commenting on the similarity between them in point of age, margaret was trying to realise that such was actually the case, trying to realise that she had ever been young, putting a strong constraint upon herself to turn her mind into the same groove as that in which the girl's mind ran. between herself and all the thoughts, plans, hopes, and pleasures of girlhood lay a deep and wide gulf, not formed alone of the privileges and duties of her present position, not fashioned by her unusual gravity and strength of character, but the work of the past--an enduring monument of the terrible truths which had sent her of late a terrible memento.
thus it happened that when margaret received a note profusely underlined, and crowded with interjections, superlatives, all kinds of epistolary explosives from the eldest miss crofton, announcing her intention of coming a little later to pass a "delightful long afternoon" with her darling friend, she experienced a sudden accession of weariness of spirit which communicated itself to her aspect, and attracted the attention of her father, who immediately asked her if anything ailed her.
"nothing whatever, papa," replied margaret; and informed him after a minute or so that lucy was coming to see her.
provided lucy did not come to chayleigh accompanied by her wonderfully clever little brother, and did not pester him with questions intended to evince her lively interest in his collection, which, however, manifested much more clearly her profound ignorance of all its components, mr. carteret was perfectly indifferent to her movements. she did not interest him, but she was perfectly respectable, eligible, and, he understood, amiable; and if she interested haldane, that was quite enough for him. a simple sincerity, which never degenerated into rudeness, characterised mr. carteret; and he perfectly understood the distinction between saying what he did not think and leaving much that he did think unsaid--a useful branch of practical science, social and domestic. so he made no comment on margaret's reply.
but hayes meredith, who had not yet seen captain carteret's future bride, was rather curious about her, and addressed a question concerning her to margaret, which she, being in an absent mood, did not hear. mr. baldwin answered promptly and expansively, giving lucy crofton praise for good looks, good manners, good abilities, and good temper. the three men went on to talk of haldane, his promotion, his general prospects, and the time fixed for his marriage, which was not to take place until the autumn. during this conversation margaret rose from the breakfast-table, and stood thoughtfully beside the fire, and robert meredith employed himself in listening to the talkers and watching her face.
"amiable creature!" he thought--and the sneer which was strangely habitual to so young a face settled upon his lips as he thus mentally apostrophised her--"you don't care a pin for the girl; you are bored by her coming here, and she's a long way prettier than ever you were, fine lady as you think yourself."
then, as margaret looked up, with a bright flush on her face, with the air of one who suddenly remembers, or has something painful or embarrassing suggested by a passing remark, the boy thought--
"i shouldn't wonder if she's jealous of this pretty girl, who has always been a lady, and knows nothing about the low life and ruffianism she could tell her of."
wide of the mark as were the speculations of the boy, in whose mind a dislike of margaret, strong in proportion to its causelessness, had taken root, he was not wrong in assigning the change in margaret's expression from reverie to active painful thought to something in which lucy crofton was concerned.
she had been informed of her brother's plans; but in the strangely combined distraction and concentration of her mind since her trouble had fallen upon her--trouble which each day was lightening for removing from her husband--she had almost forgotten them, she had never taken them into consideration as among the circumstances which she must influence, or which might influence her. the words which had roused her from her reverie reminded her she had something to do in this matter.
"why is haldane's marriage put off till the summer?" she said.
"it is not put off," said james. "there never was any idea of its taking place sooner, that i know of;--was there, sir?"
"no," said mr. carteret, "i think not.--indeed, margery, i fancy it was so settled with a view to your being at home then. we did not think you would come home so soon, you know."
"when is haldane coming here, papa?
"very soon. early next month he hopes to get leave."
margaret said no more, and the party shortly afterwards dispersed for their several morning avocations.
james dugdale's attention had been caught by margaret's look and manner when she spoke of her brother's marriage. he discerned something painful in her mind in reference to it, but he could not trace its nature, and he could not question her just then.
margaret went to her room, and seated in her old place by the window--its floral framework bore no blossom now--thought out the subject which had come into her mind.
miss crofton arrived punctually, and found the drawing-room into which she was shown--very much against her will, for she would have preferred a tumultuous rush upstairs, and the entrée to the nursery region--occupied only by robert meredith. they had met during hayes meredith's expedition to london, and lucy, though an engaged young lady, and therefore, of course, impervious to the temptations of coquetry, had perceived with quite sufficient distinctness that this "remarkably nice boy," as she afterwards called him, thought her very pretty, and found her rattling, rapid, girlish talk--which had the delightful effect of setting him quite at his ease--very attractive.
nothing could be more ridiculous, of course; but then nothing was more common than for very young persons of the male sex (somehow, miss lucy avoided calling him a "boy" in her thoughts) to "take a fancy" to girls or women much older than themselves; and in some not clearly-explained or distinctly-understood way, it was supposed to be very "safe" for them to do so. she had no objection to the admiration even of so young an admirer as robert meredith, and she was pleased as well as amused by the candid and unequivocal pleasure which robert manifested on seeing her. the youthful colonial did not suffer in the least from the disease of shyness, and was pleasantly unembarrassed in the presence of the eldest miss crofton.
the two had had time to talk over the unexpected return of mr. and mrs. baldwin; and miss crofton, who was by no means deficient in perception, had had an opportunity of observing that her young admirer did not share her enthusiasm for margaret, but was, on the contrary, distinctly cold and disdainful in the few remarks which he permitted himself to make concerning her, before margaret made her appearance. when she did so, and miss crofton had started up and rapturously embraced her, that young lady and robert meredith alike remarked simultaneously that she was startlingly pale.
after a great many questions had been asked by lucy and answered by margaret, in whose manner there was an indefinable change which her friend felt very soon, and which puzzled her, margaret took miss crofton upstairs for an inspection of little gertrude and the "thoroughly confidential" talk for which lucy declared herself irrepressibly eager.
"if she knew--if she only knew--this pure, harmless creature," margaret thought, with a pang of fierce pain as lucy crofton hugged the child and talked to her, and appealed to the nurse in support of her admiration, for which gerty was poutingly ungrateful,--"if she did but know how it has been with me since we last met, and how it is with my child!"
"yon are shivering, margaret. you seem very cold. let me poke the fire up before we settle ourselves. and now tell me all about yourself, how you really are; of course one could not ask before that young meredith. i want to see his father so much. by the bye, haldane told me you knew him so well in australia. you don't look very well, i think, but you are much stronger than when you went abroad."
"i am much stronger," said margaret. "but before i talk about myself, and i have a deal to tell you,"--miss crofton was delighted,--"i want to talk to you about yourself and haldane."
miss crofton was perfectly willing to enter on so congenial a subject, and she told margaret all about the arrangements, which included many festive proceedings, to which the girl naturally attached pleasurable anticipations. when she had reached that portion of the programme which included the names and dresses of the bridesmaids, she stopped abruptly, and said with some embarrassment:
"why do you look so grave, margaret?--is anything wrong?" then she added, before margaret could speak, "ah, i know, you don't like a gay wedding; i remember how quiet your own was; but, you see, it would seem so odd if mine wasn't gay, and besides, i like it; it's not the same, you know."
"i know, dear," margaret said very gently, "it is not at all the same thing, and i can quite understand your wishing to have a gay wedding. but i want you to listen to me, and to do what i am going: to ask you. it is something in which you can do me a great service."
this was delightful, this was being the "great friend," indeed this was very like being the favourite sister-in-law. so lucy promptly knelt down by margaret's chair, and putting her arm round her, assured her, with much emphasis, of her readiness to do anything she could for her pleasure.
there was a short pause, during which margaret looked at the girl with a grave sweet smile, and took her disengaged hand; then she spoke:
"haldane is coming here very soon, my father tells me. what leave has he got?
"a month."
"now lucy, don't be astonished, and don't say no at once. i want you to be married during his leave, instead of waiting until the autumn."
"margaret! why?" asked lucy, in a tone which fully expressed all the surprise she had been requested not to feel.
"i will tell you, lucy. in a short time i am likely to have another baby. you did not know that, at least you did not know it was to be so soon; and i am very, very anxious--so anxious, that if i cannot have my own way in this it will be very bad for me--that your marriage should be over before a time comes when i may be very ill--you know i was very ill indeed after gerty's birth."
"i know," said lucy, still with the surprised look.
"and i feel sure, dear lucy, that if you are not married until the summer i shall not be here."
"not be here, margaret! you surely do not mean--"
"i mean nothing to frighten you, lucy, but i do mean this. i have not been well lately, and i have been sent away as you know; i ought not to be here now, the doctors would say--but it cannot be helped; we were obliged to come to england, and i may be sent away again, and not be able to go to your wedding. in short, lucy," and here mrs. baldwin lost her composure, "i have set my heart on this. will you make the sacrifice for me? will you put up with a much quieter wedding, and go and spend your honeymoon at our villa at naples?"
"i don't know what to think," said lucy; "i would do anything you liked, but it does not quite depend upon me; there's papa and mamma, and haldane, you know."
"i fancy haldane will not object to your marriage being hurried a little," said margaret, with a smile; "and i have generally understood that miss lucy crofton contrives to get her own way with papa and mamma."
margaret was very unlikely to remember her own importance out of season; but it was not unseasonable that she should think of it now, and feel comforted by the assurance that mr. and mrs. crofton would probably yield to any very strongly urged wish of hers.
lucy laughed a little--the imputation of power over anybody was not unpleasing to this young lady, who, after a fashion which had not hitherto developed into unamiability, dearly loved her own way.
"but lady davyntry is at naples," she said in a tone which was very reassuring to margaret, who felt that the chief question was virtually disposed of, and details only now remained to be mastered.
"she is; but i am going to ask her to come home, since i find i cannot return. we must go to the deane soon, if you will only be good, and let things be arranged as i wish. i need not go until after your wedding; but my husband and i wish that the child should be born at the deane.
"of course," assented lucy, "and you want it to be a boy, don't you, margaret?"
"yes, we hope it may be a boy."
"well, whether it is a boy or a girl, i must be its godmother. you will let that be a promise, won't you?"
a long conversation ensued, and lucy bade margaret farewell until the morrow, with a delightful consciousness that she had achieved the position she had so much desired.
margaret told mr. baldwin her wish with regard to haldane's marriage, and the steps she had taken towards its fulfilment. he found no fault with it, but failed to comprehend her reasons.
"i can understand your dislike of the kind of wedding the croftons would have been likely to institute," he said; "but you might have escaped it on the plea of your health."
"no," she replied, "i could not do that--i could not hurt the feelings of all these good people, and i could not endure the wedding. even as it will be now, think how painful it must be to me."
her husband understood all those simple words implied, but he passed them over unnoticed. it grieved him inexpressibly to observe that margaret had not shaken off the impression of the occurrence from which his own happy, hopeful nature had rallied so much more quickly.
"i know, my darling, i know--and, indeed, i ought not to have asked you for a reason, because you are the least fanciful of women--it would be true masculine logic to refuse to aid you in one fancy, but i am not going to be logical after that fashion. i will write to haldane, and get everything settled."
accordingly, everything was settled. mr. carteret was acquiescent as usual, and with his customary politeness congratulated himself on the presence of mr. meredith and his son on so interesting an occasion. the croftons were benignant. dear mrs. baldwin had made such a point of their daughter's profiting by her villa at naples, and had set her heart so completely on the matter, and, of course, dear mrs. baldwin must just now be considered in everything. haldane was delighted, and all went well.
"margaret," said james dugdale, when all had been arranged, "why is this fixed idea always present with you? can you not shake it off? ever since you came home i have been watching you, and hoping that you were yielding to the influence of time; but i see now, since you have set yourself to arrange haldane's marriage, that this is a vain hope. why is it, margaret?"
"you ask me why it is?" she replied. "you--can you say it is not in your own mind also? can you say that you ever really believed that i could get over the thing that has befallen me? you may call it superstition, and no doubt it is so. i fancy such a youth as mine is fruitful ground for the sowing and the nurture of superstition, if such be the sense of doom, of an inevitable fate hanging over me; but it is stronger than i, and you know i am not generally weak, james. it is always there,--always before me--i can see nothing else, think of nothing else."
"i know, dear, i know; but when your health is stronger--believe me, margaret, i do not wish to mock you with an assurance that you can ever quite get over what has happened--when your child, the son and heir, is born, you will be better; you will wonder at yourself that you allowed such sway to these dark forebodings. think of all you have to make you happy, margaret, and don't, don't yield to the presentiment which is due to your health alone."
she laid her hand on his arm with a smile.
"supposing it be so, james; supposing all i think and feel--all the horrors which come to me in the night-watches, all the memories perfectly distinct in their pain, whereas i could not recall an hour of the brief happiness i ever knew in my days of delusion--supposing all this to be a mere groundless state of suffering, and you know better"--here her clear gray eyes looked at him with an expression of ineffable trust and compassion--"what harm have i done? if i live, this marriage may as well be over; and if i die, i have spared my husband and my father one sharp pang, at any rate. haldane would be very sorry, but he would want to be married all the same, and it would be hard upon fitzwilliam and my father."
"and me?" he asked her, as if the question were wrung from him by an irresistible impulse of suffering.
her hand still lay upon his shoulder, and her clear gray eyes, which deepened and darkened as she slowly spoke, still looked steadily into his.
"and you, james. no, i have no power to save you a pang more or less; it would not make any difference to you."
there was a strange cruel satisfaction to him in her words. it was something, nay, it was very much, that she should know and acknowledge that with her all that had vital interest for him began and ended, that the gift of his heart, pure, generous, disinterested, was understood and accepted. there was silence between them for some time, and then they talked of more general subjects, and just before their interview came to an end their talk turned upon little gertrude.
"you will always love her best, james; both my children will be dear to you," said margaret; "but you will always love her whom her mother unconsciously wronged best."
lady davyntry made her appearance at davyntry in due season, and the set of neapolitan coral, which she brought as her contribution to the worldly goods of the bride, was so magnificent, that lucy could not find it in her heart to cherish any such unpleasant sentiment as jealousy against eleanor, and determined that the "great friend's" scheme should extend to her also.
the return of her sister-in-law was a great pleasure, but also a great trial for margaret. her presence renewed painfully the scene of secret humiliation, of severance from those who had nothing to hide, from which she had already suffered so much; and the phantoms of the past came forth and swarmed about her, as eleanor overwhelmed her with caresses, and declared her delight at being once more with her, and her vivid perception of the improvement in "baby."
the most unsuspicious and unexacting of women, eleanor davyntry had been so perfectly satisfied with the reasons assigned by her brother for his return to england, that it never occurred to her to ask him a question on the subject. she was very eloquent concerning the beauty of the season at naples, assured haldane that she had left everything in perfect order for the reception of his bride, and wound up a long and animated monologue by informing margaret that she had brought with her the unfinished portraits.
"what a pity!" interrupted baldwin; "they may be injured, and surely you knew we intended to return."
"yes, i did," said eleanor, "but i thought mr. carteret would like to see them as they are, and i never reflected that they might be injured."
the few days which followed the arrival of lady davyntry were full of the confusion and discomfort which ordinarily precede a wedding, even on the quietest scale. the merediths, father and son, had gone to oxford, where hayes meredith had one or two old friends among the university authorities. they were not to return until the day before the wedding. mr. carteret was rather "put out" by the inevitable atmosphere of fuss and preparation, and margaret devoted herself as much as possible to him, passing in his study all the time she could subtract from the demands of the bride-elect and her brother. mr. baldwin was much with lady davyntry, and james dugdale kept himself, after his fashion, as much as possible to himself.
on the clay before that fixed for haldane's marriage all the inmates of chayleigh were assembled, and lady davyntry was of the party. they had been talking cheerfully of the event anticipated on the morrow, and eleanor had been expressing her fears that mr. carteret would feel very lonely after his son's departure--fears which that placid gentleman did by no means entertain on his own account--when hayes meredith and robert arrived. the evening passed away rapidly, and the little party broke up early. meredith joined dugdale in his sitting-room, and the friends proceeded to the discussion of the business on which hayes meredith had come to england. with two exceptions they adhered strictly to this one matter. the first was of a trifling nature.
"did you happen to see my pocket-book anywhere about?" meredith asked.
"no," said dugdale; "you mean your red-leather one, i suppose?"
"yes."
"i have not seen it, or heard of its being found in the house."
"i must have lost it on our journey to oxford, i suppose," said meredith. "it's of no consequence; there was no money in it, and nobody but myself could understand the memoranda."
the second exception was of a graver kind; it, too, arose on meredith's part.
"i am sorry to see margaret looking so ill," he said. "i was very much struck by her looks this evening. has she been looking so ill as this since i saw her last?"
"no," replied james; "she has overexerted herself lately, i fancy, and she has never gotten over the shock."
"has she not?" said meredith quickly. "that's a very bad job; very likely to tell against her, i should think. isn't it rather weak of her, though, to dwell so much as to injure her health on a thing that is of so little real consequence, after all?"
"i suppose it is," said james; and he seemed unwilling to say more.
but the matter had evidently made an impression on meredith, for he said again,
"i thought her looking very ill, feverish, and nervous, and quite unlike herself. do you think baldwin perceives it?"
"no," said james shortly, "i don't think he does. margaret never complains."
"well, well, it will all be right when the heir to the deane comes to put an end to uncertainty and fear, if she has any."
and then he led the conversation to his own affairs.
"i like your friend so much, madge," said lady davyntry to mrs. baldwin, as the sisters-in-law were enjoying the customary dressing-room confabulation. "he is such a frank, hearty, good fellow, and not the least rough, or what we think of as 'colonial' in his manners. what a pleasure it must have been to you to see him again!"
"yes," said margaret absently.
"how tired your voice sounds, darling! you are quite knocked up, i am afraid. you must go to bed at once, and try to be all right by to-morrow. i delight in the idea of a wedding; it is ages since i have been at one, except yours. what sort of a boy is mr. meredith's son?" she continued, in a discursive way to which she was rather prone; "he looks clever."
"he looks knowing," said margaret, "more than clever, i think. i don't like him."
"if she knew--if she, too, only knew," ran the changeless refrain of margaret's thoughts when she was again alone, "if she could but know what i have lived through since she saw me last! what a change has fallen on everything--what a deadly blight! how hard, and how utterly in vain i strive against this phantom which haunts me! if i had but listened to the warning which came to me when i found out first that he loved me, the warning which her words and the yearning of my own weak heart dispelled! if i had but heeded the secret inspiration which told me my past should never be taken into any honest, unsullied life! and yet, my god, how happy, how wonderfully, fearfully happy i was for a while--for happiness is a fearful thing in this perishing world. would i have heeded any warning that bade me renounce it? could i have given him up, even for his own sake?"
she rose and paced the room in one of those keen but transient paroxysms of distress which, all unknown by any human being, were of frequent occurrence, and which had not quite subsided when her husband came into her dressing-room.
"margaret," he said to her gravely, when he had elicited from her an avowal of some of her feelings, "you are bringing this dead past into our life yourself, as no other power on earth could bring it. do you remember when you promised to live for me only? can you not keep your word? this is the trial of that faith you pledged to me. is it failing you?"
"no," she said, "no, it is not failing, and i can keep my word. but"--and she clasped her arms around his neck and burst into sudden tears--"my child, my child!"
