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.And, after all, the mother’s best luxuries were to see her children merry and strong, her husband’s face lightened of its care, and to know he was now placed beyond doubt in the position he had always longed for; for was he not this very day gone to sign the lease of Enderley Mills?Mrs.Halifax had just looked at her watch, and she and I were wondering, with quite a childish pleasure, whether he 306were not now signing the important deed, when Guy came running to say a coach-and-four was trying to enter the White Gate.“Who can it be?—But they must be stopped, or they’ll spoil John’s new gravel road that he takes such pride in.Uncle Phineas, would you mind going to see?”Who should I see, but almost the last person I expected—who had not been beheld, hardly spoken of, in our household these ten years—Lady Caroline Brithwood, in her travelling-habit of green cloth, her velvet riding-hat, with its Prince of Wales’ feathers, gayer than ever—though her pretty face was withering under the paint, and her lively manner growing coarse and bold.“Is this Longfield?—Does Mr.Halifax—mon Dieu, Mr.Fletcher, is that you?”She held out her hand with the frankest condescension, and in the brightest humour in the world.She insisted on sending on the carriage, and accompanying me down to the stream, for a “surprise”—a “scene.”Mrs.Halifax, seeing the coach drive on, had evidently forgotten all about it.She stood in the little dell which the stream had made, Walter in her arms—her figure thrown back, so as to poise the child’s weight.Her right hand kept firm hold of Guy, who was paddling barefoot in the stream: Edwin, the only one of the boys who never gave any trouble, was soberly digging away, beside little Muriel.The lady clapped her hands.“Brava! bravissima! a charming family picture, Mrs.Halifax.”“Lady Caroline!”Ursula left her children, and came to greet her old acquaintance, whom she had never once seen since she was Ursula Halifax.Perhaps that fact touched her, and it was with a kind of involuntary tenderness that she looked into the sickly face, where all the smiles could not hide the wrinkles.307“It is many years since we met; and we are both somewhat altered, Cousin Caroline.”“You are, with those three great boys.The little girl yours also?—Oh yes, I remember William told me—poor little thing!” And with uneasy awe she turned from our blind Muriel, our child of peace.“Will you come up to the house? my husband has only ridden over to Enderley; he will be home soon.”“And glad to see me, I wonder? For I am rather afraid of that husband of yours—eh, Ursula? Yet I should greatly like to stay.”Ursula laughed, and repeated the welcome.She was so happy herself—she longed to distribute her happiness.They walked, the children following, towards the house.Under the great walnut-tree, by the sunk fence which guarded the flower-garden from the sheep and cows, Mrs.Halifax stopped and pointed down the green slope of the field, across the valley, to the wooded hills opposite.“Isn’t it a pretty view?” said Guy, creeping up and touching the stranger’s gown; our children had lived too much in an atmosphere of love to know either shyness or fear.“Very pretty, my little friend.”“That’s One-tree Hill.Father is going to take us all a walk there this afternoon.”“Do you like going walks with your father?”“Oh, don’t we!” An electric smile ran through the whole circle.It told enough of the blessed home-tale.Lady Caroline laughed a sharp laugh.“Eh, my dear, I see how things are.You don’t regret having married John Halifax, the tanner?”“Regret!”“Nay, be not impetuous.I always said he was a noble fellow—so does the earl now.And William—you can’t think what a hero your husband is to William.”308“Lord Ravenel?”“Ay, my little brother that was—growing a young man now—a frightful bigot, wanting to make our house as Catholic as when two or three of us lost our heads for King James.But he is a good boy—poor William! I had rather not talk about him.”Ursula inquired courteously if her Cousin Richard were well.“Bah!—I suppose he is; he is always well.His late astonishing honesty to Mr.Halifax cost him a fit of gout—mais n’importe.If they meet, I suppose all things will be smooth between them?”“My husband never had any ill-feeling to Mr.Brithwood.”“I should not bear him an undying enmity if he had.But you see, ’tis election time, and the earl wishes to put in a gentleman, a friend of ours, for Kingswell.Mr.Halifax owns some cottages there, eh?”“Mr.Fletcher does.My husband transacts business—”“Stop! stop!” cried Lady Caroline.“I don’t understand business; I only know that they want your husband to be friendly with mine.Is this plain enough?”“Certainly: be under no apprehension.Mr.Halifax never bears malice against any one.Was this the reason of your visit, Lady Caroline?”“Eh—mon Dieu! what would become of us if we were all as straightforward as you, Mistress Ursula? But it sounds charming—in the country.No, my dear; I came—nay, I hardly know why.Probably, because I liked to come—my usual reason for most actions.Is that your salle-a-manger? Won’t you ask me to dinner, ma cousine?”“Of course,” the mother said, though I fancied, afterwards, the invitation rather weighed upon her mind, probably from the doubt whether or no John would like it.But in little things, 309as in great, she had always this safe trust in him—that conscientiously to do what she felt to be right was the surest way to be right in her husband’s eyes.So Lady Caroline was our guest for the day—a novel guest—but she made herself at once familiar and pleasant.Guy, a little gentleman from his cradle, installed himself her admiring knight attendant everywhere: Edwin brought her to see his pigeons; Walter, with sweet, shy blushes, offered her “a ’ittle f’ower!” and the three, as the greatest of all favours, insisted on escorting her to pay a visit to the beautiful calf not a week old.Laughing, she followed the boys; telling them how lately in Sicily she had been presented to a week-old prince, son of Louis Philippe the young Duke of Orleans and the Princess Marie-Amelie.“And truly, children, he was not half so pretty as your little calf.Ursula, I am sick of courts sometimes.I would turn shepherdess myself, if we could find a tolerable Arcadia.”“Is there any Arcadia like home?”“Home!”—Her face expressed the utmost loathing, fear, and scorn.I remembered hearing that the ‘Squire since his return from abroad had grown just like his father; was drunk every day and all day long.“Is your husband altered, Ursula? He must be quite a young man still.Oh, what it is to be young!”“John looks much older, people say; but I don’t see it.”“Arcadia again! Can such things be? especially in England, that paradise of husbands, where the first husband in the realm sets such an illustrious example.How do you stay-at-home British matrons feel towards my friend the Princess of Wales?”“God help her, and make her as good a woman as she is a wronged and miserable wife,” said Ursula, sadly.“Query, Can a ‘good woman’ be made out of a ‘wronged and miserable wife’? If so, Mrs.Halifax, you should certainly take out a patent for the manufacture.”310The subject touched too near home.Ursula wisely avoided it, by inquiring if Lady Caroline meant to remain in England.“Cela depend.” She turned suddenly grave.“Your fresh air makes me feel weary [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]