mr. beresford was thoroughly well-informed when he announced miss townshend's marriage with m. gustav schr?der. that event took place almost immediately after the break-up of the party at bissett grange, and sir marmaduke attended it on his way through to paris. the wedding was a very grand affair, and created quite a sensation in the dead time of the year. a bishop, who in his private capacity held some land which he had sold to a railway company numbering mr. townshend among its directors, was entrapped for the ceremony, which, of course, took place at st. george's, hanover square. there was such a gathering of carriages, and such a champing and stamping of horses in george street, that two men who were sleeping at limmer's, on their way through town, were actually induced to shake off dull sloth so early as eleven a.m., and to peer out of the window at the cavalcade; satisfying themselves with a very short glance, however, and returning to their couches again with great alacrity. very great magnates in the banking world, the brokering world, the colonial-export world, and the shipping world, were present; as were m. heinrich schr?der, representative of the house at frankfort, a bent shrivelled old gentleman, with marked jewish profile; thin hands always plucking at his thin lips, and a very small knowledge of the english language;--m. louis schr?der, who represented the house at paris, a man of forty, short, stout, genial, and jolly; speaking all languages with equal ease; with a keen eye for making money, but enjoying nothing better than spending it; drinking very little, but fond of high-living and high-play; and showing general sensuality in his thick scarlet lips and short pudgy hands; more schr?ders, male and female, from hamburg, from mainz from florence; and one--very much burnt up--who had just returned from losing his liver, and gaining his fortune at ceylon. mr. townshend contributed the eminent personages in city firms above mentioned, but none of his family were present; and it was remarked by some of the guests, that none of his family had ever been seen by any body,--any body meaning, of course, any body in their society; but, owing to its being the dull season of the year, miss townshend's list was not as brilliant as it might have been. for instance, ever since as a child she married her doll to a resplendent individual in a soft scarlet-cloth coat, a cocked hat, and a pair of linen trousers (supposed to be of the male sex, but really another doll in disguise, as proved by the lump of painted hair projecting behind), she had always intended having eight bridesmaids; but clara hamilton and kate brandon were away with their people and in their places she had asked the melville girls, people, whom, as she afterwards found, her trump card, her prettiest bridesmaid carry seaward, did not speak. so that the cards had all to be shuffled again, and eventually she got four very pretty attendants to the altar. barbara and her husband were away honeymooning; and she didn't like to ask captain lyster, having a perfect recollection of that morning in the library at bissett, and thinking that his presence on such an occasion would probably render them both extremely uncomfortable.
but altogether the wedding went off with success; for the bishop was not only impressively solemn during the ceremony, but was pleasantly jocose afterwards, cracked tepid little jokes with infinite gusto; and a tepid jokelet from a bishop is worth more than a brilliant mot from a professional wit. and the company, though not very brilliant in intellect, was quite brilliant enough to laugh when a bishop said a good thing; and every body was very well dressed; and the wedding presents, duly set out on a side-table, made a splendid show. the schr?ders were to the fore in the matter of wedding presents; the city magnates of the townshend connexion did pretty well, so far as silver tea-services, and wine-coolers, and ice-pails, and fish knives and forks, and splendidly-carved ivory tankards with massive silver covers, were concerned, and in all the usual wedding-gift nonsense of butter-dish and card-bowl; but the schr?ders gave diamond-necklaces and sets of turquoises and opals in old-fashioned filigree settings, and tiny watches from leroy's, costing 3000 francs, and barbedienne's rarest bronzes, and the choicest carvings from the frankfort zeil. mr. schr?der, too, had taken his bride elect, two days before the marriage, to long acre, and shown her the neat little single brougham, and the elegant open carriage; and then had driven on to rice's, and had had trotted out the fast trotters and the elegant steppers which had been reserved for them. and alice townshend thought of all these things as she stood at the altar beside the elderly gentleman with the small eyes and the stubbly gray hair; and the shudder which passed through her, as she solemnly vowed to honour and obey him, was a little mitigated by the recollection of his wealth, and her consequent future position.
the honeymoon was spent partly at brussels, partly at paris, and then the newly-married couple came home to their house in saxe-coburg square. fifteen years ago, just before the first great exhibition (the great exhibition! we who had gelebt und geliebt before '51 know how poor the other one was in comparison to it!), the tract of land whereon saxe-coburg, gotha, coleraine, and dilkington squares, adalbert crescent, and guelph place now stand, was known as grunter's grounds, and was tenanted by an honest market-gardener, who found a very remunerative market in covent garden for his cabbage cultivation. but hodder, the great builder, marked the army of luxury marching rapidly west; and knowing that quarters must be found for it, saw in grunter's grounds the exact place for the erection of those squares, crescents, terraces, and places, of which his architect, palladio hicks, had so elaborately shown the elevation on paper, but had erected so few. mr. hodder discovered that the nurseryman was in the last eighteen months of his lease, and that grunter's grounds belonged to a charity, the trustees of which were always quarreling among themselves. this was enough for hodder; he soon wormed his way into the confidence of some of the trustees; and eventually succeeded in getting the renewal of the lease refused to the market-gardener, and the ground made over to him, on building lease, at a very cheap rate. now do you wonder why mrs. hodder drives one of the most stylish equipages in the park; or why, in her amateur theatricals, she manages to get hold of all that extraordinary histrionic genius, which, by an odd concurrence of events, always accompanies the possession of a clerkship in the treasury? that was a splendid speculation for mr. hodder. there are thirty-six houses in saxe-coburg square, for instance; and each of them lets at 320l. a-year. they are all, as mr. thackeray said of the pyramids, "very big," and very ugly; great gaunt stuccoed erections, bow-windowed, plate-glassed, and porticoed after the usual prevalent pattern, with a small square courtyard looking into a mews behind, and mr. swiveller's prospect, "a delightful view of--over the way," in front. but they let wonderfully; it is the thing to live in that quarter; and hangers-on to the selvage of fashion, clerks in public offices, who have married into aristocratic poor families, and suchlike, will be found bargaining for a ghastly little hole in adalbert crescent or guelph place, when they could get a capital roomy house at highgate or hampstead, with a big garden, in which their "young barbarians" could be "all at play" from morning till night, for far less money. mr. schr?der's house was furnished very expensively, and, considering all had been left to the upholsterer, in not bad taste. the dining-room was in light oak, carved high-backed chairs in green morocco; a large massive round-table in the centre, with half-a-dozen swinging moderator-lamps over it; wardour-street rubenses and apocryphal ancestors on the walls. behind this the library in dark oak, splendid writing-table, quaint old carved davenport desk from a carmelite monastery; wonderful collection of books, the result of the blending of two library sales at hodgson's,--one the gathering of a bibliomaniacal virtuoso, the other of a sporting nobleman,--and before-letter proofs, after landseer. the drawing-rooms i should utterly fail in endeavouring to describe, so content myself by remarking that they were halls of dazzling light,--allowed by their worst enemies, the critics, to be "delicious;" by their most captious, to be "effective,"--splendidly furnished, and opening on to conservatories and boudoirs and canvas-covered balconies.
mr. schr?der was not the man to hide his candle under a bushel; nor, having spent a vast amount of money on his house and its decorations, to keep them solely for the contemplation of himself and his wife: so it was at his suggestion that the dinner-party and reception were organised. mrs. schr?der at once gave her acquiescence; indeed, just at this period of her life, she was in too dazed a state to do any thing more than follow suit. she knew her father to be wealthy, and always had lived in good style; but she also knew that her parent was a great tyrant--one of those "stern" persons so popular in novels; and she had had many visions of resisting him; of flying from his roof with some young lover not overburdened with riches; of love in a cottage, and other maniacal ideas of the same description; and now she found that the time had come and passed; that she had not resisted at all; and that she was settled down with a gray-headed, elderly husband, who was one of the richest men in london. it was not her childhood's dream, perhaps; but it was by no means uncomfortable; and mrs. schr?der wisely determined, to accept the riches, and to forget the grayness of the head; and went in for the dinner-party with spirit.
husband and wife furnished about an equal complement of friends to the banquet, which was very splendid, but at first rather dull. old heinrich schr?der, who had not yet returned to frankfort, was present; and as he spoke scarcely any english, he did not enliven the conversation; which, however, was often polyglot. the magnates from the city and their wives ate a good deal, and talked very little; while some of the younger and more aristocratic people brought in by mrs. schr?der were silent as becomes "swells," and only occasionally worked eyebrow or shoulder telegraphs to each other, in silent wonder at, and depreciation of, their neighbours. mr. beresford began to be awfully bored, and tried topic after topic without meeting with the least success. at last, however, he seemed to have stumbled on one that awoke a certain amount of general interest.
"seen your newly-elected brother-director of the terra-del-fuego company yet, mr. schr?der?" he asked.
"colonel levison?" said mr. schr?der; "no, not yet; we've had no board-day since his election."
"man of mark, sir," said an old gentleman, who had painted his chin and shirt-front with turtle-soup.
"what levison is it, beresford?" asked captain lyster, who was seated near mrs. schr?der.
"jack levison; you know him. wonderful life he's had!"
"has he?" said mrs. schr?der, on whom the dulness had settled like a pall. "oh, do tell us about it, mr. beresford; that is, if you may."
"oh, yes, i may," laughed beresford; "though it's nothing much to tell. jack was in the 9th, and came into five thousand pounds at his father's death; sold out; speculated in cotton, and made it twenty; speculated in hides, and lost every sixpence. went out to australia on the first discovery of gold; was a boot-black in melbourne; actually had a stand and brushed boots, you know; afterwards was cad to the ballarat omnibus; fact, give you my word! at last got up to the diggings; worked with varying luck, until at last turned up monster nugget, and hit upon a splendid vein; stuck to it quietly, and made a fortune. realised; came back to england, and has doubled it. curious life, isn't it?"
"how very odd!" said mrs. schr?der, trying to extract a remark from a very gorgeous lady on her right; "fancy, blacking boots!"
"and what do you call 'em to a bus?" said the lady, who, though gorgeous, was clapham-born, and still possessed her native dialect.
"must be clayver man," hazarded a tall, thin gentleman, a light of the draft and docket office, who was very short-sighted, and perpetually kept in his eye a glass, with which he endeavoured to focus somebody into conversation; hitherto hopelessly.
"oh, yes," said his neighbour, a bald man, with cinnamon whiskers, whose life was passed in saying the wrong thing in the wrong place--"oh, yes; but don't you know he's boswell levison's brother. he's a jew!"
every body looked involuntarily at old heinrich schr?der, about whose origin there could be no doubt, and who had that face which you may see repeated by hundreds in the frankfort juden-gasse.
"ha! ha!" said the old gentleman, catching the last word, and finding himself the centre of attraction; "was chew! ya, zo; chew ist goot."
mr. schr?der turned a dull lead colour, and a general awe-struck silence fell upon the company, which was broken by beresford, who, again coming to the rescue, said:
"you knew levison, monkhouse? we stayed together in his uncle's house two years ago."
the man with the eyeglass made a vain attempt to focus beresford, and said, "did we?"
"yes, of course we did. you recollect, at macarum's, near elgin?"
mr. monkhouse dropped his glass from his eye, and looked up to the ceiling for inspiration; then, re-fixing it, said, "oh, ah! elgin! i know!--where the marble comes from?"
the levison subject now being evidently exhausted, and the conversation becoming hopelessly-idiotic, captain lyster strikes in at a tangent, and asks mrs. schr?der whether she has seen any thing recently of her friend, mrs. churchill,--miss lexden that was.
mrs. schr?der replies in the negative, adding that she had called upon barbara "in, oh, such a strange street!" but had not found her at home: the churchills had been asked to dine there that day, but had declined on account of mr. churchill's engagements. it was, however, probable that they might come in the evening. hearing the name of churchill mentioned, mr. beresford chimes in.
"ah, by the way, the churchills! friends of yours, mrs. schr?der? how are they getting on? love-match, and all that kind of thing, hey? clever man, churchill; but should have kept to his own set; married the daughter of his printer or publisher, or some fellow of that sort; not taken away one of our stars."
"what do you mean by his own set, mr. beresford?" said lyster, rousing himself. "mr. churchill, i take it, is a gentleman in every sense of the word. i don't know whom you have been accustomed to associate with, but i never saw a better-bred man."
mr. beresford pauses for a moment, startled at the attack; then a smile passes over his face as he says, "i didn't impugn your friend's breeding, captain lyster; but i suppose even such a corydon as you would allow the folly of a love-match with no money on either side?"
it is probable that captain lyster might have replied, even seeing, clearly as he did, that the tendency of the conversation was towards an argument in which he would have to exert himself; but the cinnamon-whiskered man, who had been waiting for an opportunity of speaking, now saw his chance, and burst forth--"love-match!" said he; "no money on either side! what then? do you imagine that two people, young, attached to each other, who risk a--a--what d'ye call um?--fight in the great battle of life"--looking round and repeating "in the great battle of life--are not much happier than those who make, what you may call, sordid matches? thus, for the sake of argument, an elderly man marries a young girl; nothing in common between them; she simply married for position, or to oblige her parents; and he--well, i think we know the contemptible figure he cuts; a case of buying and selling, as you would say in the city, eh, schr?der?" and the cinnamon-coloured man, who was great at a debating-society, looked in triumph at his host.
mr. schr?der, more leaden-coloured than ever, said, "certainly." mrs. schr?der, who had been looking down at the table, and playing with her dessert-knife, rose with the rest of the ladies, and left the room. after their departure, the west-end section, including beresford, lyster, and monkhouse, seemed to get silent and abstracted; while mr. schr?der's particular friends from the city, the bank-directors and public-company men, re-invigorated themselves with port, and discussed the politics of threadneedle street and the chances of change in the discount rate in hoarse whispers. solemn dulness fell upon the west-end division: lyster dropped into a semi-dose; mr. monkhouse tried to focus the talkers one by one, but failing, fell to polishing his eyeglass and admiring his nails; the cinnamon-whiskered man cut into the conversation once in the wrong place, and, having plainly showed himself to be an idiot, was promptly extinguished; and beresford fell into a dreamy state, in which his liabilities ranged themselves in horrible array before him, and he went into wild speculations as to how they might be met. while in this state, he became conscious of old mr. townshend's voice, laying down the law, in most imperative style, on matters of finance, and suddenly he remembered his promise to simnel. he waited for his opportunity when mr. townshend ceased for an instant, and then said: "my dear mr. schr?der, you can't tell how horrible it is for us impecunious people to listen to this tremendously ingotted talk. we look upon you as a dozen sinbad the sailors, each having found his own peculiar treasure in the valley of diamonds. ah! if it were only given to me to fathom the secret of money-making!"
the city section were pleased at this concession, and took the remarks as complimentary. mr. schr?der smiled, and said sententiously: "business has its cares as well as its pleasures." mr. townshend nodded his head, saying, "you gentlemen despise our prosaic ways and business routine; with you--"
"business routine!" exclaimed beresford. "why, you make a fortune by the arrival of a telegram, by the nod of a cabinet-minister's head. i'm not so ignorant of these mercantile matters as you may fancy. when i was in the habit of staying with my intimate friend pigott, of the firm of pigott and wells--"
"what name did you say?" asked mr. townshend, with a blanched face.
"pigott and wells," repeated beresford slowly, looking at him stedfastly; "merchants of combcardingham. do you know the firm?"
"no, not at all. that is--i--" and mr. townshend's teeth chattered as he gulped down a bumper of port and cowered in his chair, as a tremendous knock, reverberating through the house, announced the arrival of the first guests for the reception.
the reception. item, herr klavierspieler, the celebrated pianiste, who was so fall of soul, and so mysterious, and so thin, and so long-haired, and so silent. all sorts of stories afloat about herr klavierspieler,--that he communed with spirits; that he was a ghoule; that he was consuming away under an unrequited passion for an austrian countess of excessive haughtiness; whereas in real truth he was the son of a saddler in the breite strasse of dresden, and his liver was deranged, perhaps by his eating five heavy meals a day, and, save when he was playing in public, never being without a pipe in his mouth. item, m. bloffski, the pole, the violincellist of the world, a fat man in spectacles, who perspired a great deal, breathed through his nose, had a red-cotton pocket-handkerchief, and played his instrument divinely. item, mr. schrink, musical critic of the statesman newspaper, a little man with a hump-back and a frightfully sensitive ear; a little man who would cower and, shrink under false notes, and stamp and growl under bad singing; a little man whom every one hated, and who did not particularly like himself. item, fr?ulein wünster, one of those german young ladies who, ever since jenny lind's success, have been imported into england under the firm idea that they were "going to do it," and who, having filled up gaps in the hanover square and st. james's hall concerts, have returned to vaterland without having made the smallest mark. mr. dabb, fashionable artist, whose portrait of mr. schr?der decorated the walls, was there; as was mr. fleem, the author of fashion and satire--a young gentleman who, for a cynic, seemed on remarkably good terms with himself and his fellow-creatures. mr. pringle and mr. prescott arrived together; and just after the gentlemen came up from the dining-room, mr. and mrs. churchill were announced.
if mrs. churchill had been the empress of austria or the queen of the cannibal islands, she could not have entered the room more haughtily, or created a greater effect. she was dressed in a plain dark-gray silk, with a bunch of scarlet geraniums in her hair, and a black-lace shawl over her shoulders. her little head was erect, her delicate nostrils distended, and her eye seemed to challenge any unpleasant remark. frank churchill was, as usual, quiet and sedate; but it was evident he marked the impression which his wife made, and was pleased thereby. was he pleased with the expression of her face, as he marked it contracted for an instant, though immediately afterwards the features resumed their calm statuesque immobility? was he pleased with the tone of her voice, which became a little hard and metallic, instead of that soft whispering which he knew as hers? barbara's trial was on her at that instant: she had returned to that society in which she had all her life lived; those luxuries, which had been in daily use, were around her, after she had been for weeks absent from them; the mere size of the rooms, the lighting, the perfume, the presence of guests,--all seemed to render the events of the past months as a dream; and she had to bring her presence of mind into play to argue with herself.
mrs. schr?der rushed up to her at once; no doubt of the empressement of her manner! affection a little too palpable, as barbara thought.
"oh, barbara darling! so glad you're come! i thought you'd disappointed us. how late you are!"
"frank was detained; as i expected, alice; make him explain himself."
"no occasion for that, i hope? mrs. schr?der," said churchill; "the slaves of the lamp, you know!"
"oh, there! that horrible business! your constant excuse; you're all alike. gustav! gustav! here's mr. churchill excusing himself from being late, and pleads business; take him away, and discuss the wretched subject together. i want to talk to barbara,--a long talk. no, gustav! i don't care what you say about my duties as hostess: i will talk to my old friend!" so schr?der and churchill went off, and alice and barbara seated themselves in a far window.
"now, barbara dear, tell me every thing. i needn't ask you if you're happy; that's a matter of course. do you like your house? is the boudoir in pale-green silk, as we always said we'd have it? mine's in rose-colour; but that's gustav's taste; i always liked your notion best."
"my boudoir, alice? you forget."
"oh, so i do. how ridiculous! but look here, barbara darling; you'll come out for a drive with me whenever i fetch you?"
"oh, thanks, alice; i'm too far out of your way to be fetched often."
"not a bit, barbara; what else have the horses to do? though it is a difficult place to find out. edwards--the coachman, i mean--had never heard of it, though he knows all sorts of short cuts; and we had to ask our way perpetually."
barbara had something on the tip of her tongue, but it was never framed into words. she contented herself with saying, "the situation is handy for my husband, you know. i should not like the thought that he had far to come late at night."
"oh! is he ever out late at night? how dreadful! how dull you must be! how wretched for you! i should make my maid sit up and read me to sleep."
"there has been no need for any such violent measures at present," said barbara, with a slight smile. "frank has managed to do his work at home, hitherto; but of course there may be occasions when he will be obliged to be out."
"you must come to us then. promise! won't you, barbara dear? you'll like mr. schr?der; at least i think you will. he's very quiet; but so kind-hearted and thoughtful. oh, captain lyster! how you startled me!"
"very sorry, mrs. schr?der," drawled the captain, creeping leisurely towards them; "wouldn't have put you out for the world; but this is scarcely fair, you know; two ladies monopolising each other when we're dying to talk to them; and we're left to listen to that horrible hirsute wretch who's thumping the piano."
"klavierspieler a horrible wretch! did you hear that, barbara? well, captain lyster, i won't monopolise mrs. churchill any more, and you shall have a chat with her;" and mrs. schr?der walked off, laughing. barbara had been looking at mr. schr?der, who was standing in the doorway talking with frank churchill; and had noticed his face fall as lyster approached them. when mrs. schr?der moved away, her husband seemed relieved.
captain lyster sat down by barbara, and talked long, and for him earnestly. she saw at once that he wanted to be numbered among her friends; and in a score of little delicate sentences he conveyed to her his appreciation of her conduct in marrying a man whom she loved, in spite of the opposition of her friends, his respect for her husband's character and talents, and his desire to serve them. then he turned the conversation upon mrs. schr?der; and barbara noticed that his manner changed; that he hesitated, and kept his eyes down, as he wondered whether she were happy; whether she loved he husband; whether it had really been her duty to obey her father's will, and not consult her own inclinations, as people said had been the case. for the first time a light broke upon barbara, and she knew captain lyster's story as plainly as if he had told it to her in so many words. following his glance as he stopped speaking, she saw that it rested on alice schr?der, to whom mr. beresford was now talking, bending over her chair with great apparent devotion; and looking from them to mr. schr?der, barbara remarked that the gloom had returned to his face, while frank churchill himself looked somewhat annoyed.
it was not without a very great deal of trouble that mr. pringle had induced his friend prescott to accompany him to saxe-coburg square. even after that gentleman had given a reluctant consent he withdrew it, and on the very morning of the reception mr. pringle was not aware whether or not he should have to go alone. for mr. prescott was very much in love with kate mellon still: that interview in the park had by no means had the effect of curing him of his passion; although, being a sensible young fellow, he saw that there was not the slightest use in giving way to it.
"he's a thoroughly changed buffer, is jim, sir!" mr. pringle would remark of him; "he used to be the cheeriest of birds; always good for going out some where, and no end of fun; always in tip-top spirits, and the best chap out. but now he sits in his chambers, and smokes his pipe, and grizzles himself to death, pretty near; wishing he'd got more money, and all sorts of things. that won't do, you know! he must be picked up and trotted out; and the man for that line of business is yours truly." in pursuance of which determination mr. pringle opened a system of attack on his friend, and in the first place insisted that they should go together to mr. schr?der's reception. even at the last, when prescott gave in his final consent, it was under strong protest. "i shall be dreary, old boy; and you'll be sorry you took me. you know i'm not very good company just now, george. i've not got over--"
"all right; i know. 'tell me, my heart, can this be?' &c. but we'll have some dinner at simpson's, and a bottle of old port; and that'll set you up, and make you see life under a different aspect, as they say in novels."
the dinner was very good; and finding his friend still silent and low-spirited, mr. pringle exerted himself to rouse him. he was very well known at the dining-rooms, and called the waiters by their christian names, and asked after their families, and little events in their private lives.
mr. prescott could not help laughing at the absurdities perpetrated by his friend, and gradually his spirits revived. after dinner they went to mr. pringle's chambers, and smoked and had some hot whisky-and-water, which, coming after the port-wine, had a very hilarious effect upon mr. pringle, who then wanted to "go out some where," and not to go to the schr?ders at all; but mr. prescott overruling this, they dressed and went. mr. pringle--and especially mr. pringle after half a bottle of port-wine and a couple of tumblers of whisky-punch--was a trying person to go about with, and prescott had to call him to order several times. when they arrived at the house, and were asked their names, he gave them as the duke of wellington and mr. babbage; and on the servant's being about gravely to repeat them, he stopped him, saying they did not wish their names announced, as they were detectives come on very private business. on the staircase he feigned a wild terror at the powdered heads of the footmen; asked "how they came so white;" by nature or not? and altogether so behaved himself, that mr. prescott declared he would not enter the room with him.
once in the room, mr. pringle toned down visibly, and conducted himself like an ordinary mortal. he was very friendly with alice schr?der, and expressed poignant regret at mr. townshend's sudden indisposition (for that worthy gentleman declined to come upstairs after dinner; beresford's mention of pigott and wells had been too much for him), though secretly mr. pringle was pleased at missing his godfather, whom he was accustomed to regard as the essence of sternness; and he was introduced to churchill, of whom he spoke the next day at the office as a "deuced clever fellow, a literary bird;" and he listened for a few minutes to klavierspieler's pianoforte-fireworks; and, then went down and got some refreshment. he endeavoured to induce mr. prescott to accompany him; but that gentleman not merely absolutely declined, but addressed his friend in strong words of warning, and declared that as for himself he was thoroughly happy where he was.
indeed, once more in society, surrounded by well-looking, well-dressed people, listening to music and conversation in a splendidly-appointed home, mr. prescott began to think to himself that the solitary pipe-smokings in dreary chambers, the shutting himself away from the world, and giving himself up to melancholy, was rather a mistake. of course the grand cause of it all remained unaltered,--he never could get over his passion, he never would give up thinking of kate,--and just then he started as he heard a light, musical, girlish voice behind him say, "it is james prescott!" he turned rapidly round, and saw two or three people standing by him; one of whom, a very pretty, fresh-coloured buxom girl, stepped forward, laughed as he made a rather distant bow, and said, "you don't recollect me! oh, what a horridly bad compliment!"
"it is excessively absurd, to be sure, on my part, i know. i cannot, by jove! emily murray!" prescott burst out as the face recurred to his memory.
"emily murray, of course!" said the young lady, still laughing; "why, what ages since we've met! not since you left havering; and how's the dear vicar and the girls? which of them are married? i should so like to see them; and you--you're in some government office we heard; which is it? and--"
"i must come to mr. prescott's rescue, emily, if you'll introduce me. you've stunned him with questions," said an elderly lady standing by.
"oh, aunt, how can you say so! james--mr. prescott,--i don't know which i ought to say; but i always used to say james,--this is my aunt, mrs. wilmslow, with whom we're staying. i say we, for papa is in town; but his gout was threatening; so he wouldn't come to-night."
"my brother will be very pleased to see you, though, mr. prescott," said mrs. wilmslow; "i know he has the kindliest recollection of your father at havering. will you come and lunch with us to-morrow?"
mr. prescott accepted with thanks, and mrs. wilmslow moved back to her party; but emily murray stayed behind, and they had a very long conversation; during which he settled not merely that he would lunch in portland place on the next day, but that he would afterwards accompany miss murray and some of her friends in their subsequent ride. as miss murray departed with her friends, mr. pringle came up and apologised for having left his friend so much alone. "very sorry, old fellow, but i got into an argument with an old german buffer downstairs. very good fellow, but spoke very shy english. told me he was nearly eighty years old; and that he accounted for his good health by having been always in the habit of taking a walk past dinner. took me full ten minutes to find out he meant after dinner. but i say, old fellow, i'm really sorry; you must have had a very slow evening."
"on the contrary," said mr. prescott, "i've enjoyed myself amazingly."
mr. pringle looked hard at his friend, and whistled plaintively.
