a cloak of Miss Martindale’s.
It was early when they reached the village, and Lord Martindale, saying he must speak to a workman, took them through a pretty garden to a house, the front rooms of which were shut up; they entered by the back door, and found themselves in a kitchen, where a couple of labouring people were sitting, in church-going trim. While Violet shook off the rain, and warmed herself at the fire, Lord Martindale spoke to the man; and then opening a door, called her and Arthur to look.
There were several rooms, without trace of ever having been inhabited, and not looking very inviting. The view of the park, which Violet would fain have admired, was one gush of rain.
‘This might be made something of,’ said Lord Martindale. ‘It was built at the same time as the house. There was some idea of Mrs. Nesbit’s living here; and of late years it has been kept empty for poor John.’
He broke off. Violet wondered if it was to be her abode, and whether those empty rooms could ever be as pleasant as the parlour at Winchester; but no more passed, and it was time to go into church.
After this, Lord Martindale pressed to have their stay prolonged; which Arthur could not persuade his wife to believe a great compliment to her, though she was pleased, because he was, and because she hoped it was a sign that she was tolerated for his sake. Personally, she could have wished that his leave of absence might not be extended, especially when she found that by the end of the next two months it was likely that the regiment would be in London, so that she had seen the last of her dear Winchester lodging; but she had so little selfishness, that she reproached herself even for the moment’s wish, that Arthur should not remain to be happy at his own home.
It was a great loss to her that Miss Gardner was going away, leaving her to the unmitigated coldness and politeness of the other ladies. She grieved the more when, on the last morning, Jane made positive advances of friendship, and talked affectionately of meeting in London.
‘My home is with my sister, and we shall be delighted to see you. You will be fixed there, no doubt.’
‘Thank you. I cannot tell; but I shall be so glad to see you!’
‘And I shall be delighted to introduce you to my sister. I know you will be great friends. What a season it will be! Two such sisters as Mrs. and Miss Martindale making their appearance together will be something memorable.’
Violet blushed excessively, and made some inarticulate disavowals. She felt it presumption to let her name be coupled with Miss Martindale’s, and there was a sense of something dangerous and wrong in expecting admiration.
Miss Gardner only smiled encouragingly at her youthfulness. ‘I will not distress you, though I look forward to what I shall hear. I shall feel that I have a right to be proud of you, from priority of acquaintance.’
‘You are very kind; but, please, don’t talk so. It is bad, I know, for me.’
‘You are very right, I quite agree with you. No doubt it is the wisest way; but so very few feel as you do. I wish more were like you, or, indeed, like Theodora, who is positively displeased with me for speaking of her making a sensation.’
‘Oh! of course she does not care,’ said Violet. ‘So very good as she is.’
‘Appallingly so, some people say,’ returned Jane, with a peculiar look; ‘but, I know her well, though she was more my sister’s friend than mine.’
‘Then you have known her a long time?’
‘All her life. We used to meet every day in London, when she and my sister were two madcaps together, playing endless wild pranks. We used to tell her she ruled the governesses, and no one could control her—nor can—’
‘But she is very good,’ repeated Violet, puzzled.
‘Ah! she took a serious turn at about fourteen, and carried it out in her own peculiar way. She has worked out a great deal for herself, without much guidance. She has a standard of her own, and she will not acknowledge a duty if she does not intend to practise it.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Violet. ‘I thought if one saw a duty one must try to practise it.’
‘I wish all the world went upon your principles’ said Miss Gardner, with a sigh. ‘I am afraid you will find many not half so consistent with their own views as yourself, or Theodora.’
‘Oh! of course one must fail,’ said Violet. ‘One cannot do half one means, but Theodora seems so strong and resolute.’
‘Ay, no one has been able to cope with her, not even Mrs. Nesbit; who, as a kindred spirit, might have had a chance!’
‘Mrs. Nesbit has had a great deal to do with her education?’
‘I dare say you have found out the real head of the family. I see you are very acute, as well as very guarded.’
‘Oh dear! I hope I have said nothing I ought not,’ cried Violet, in a fright.
‘No, indeed, far from it. I was admiring your caution.’
Violet thought she had done wrong in betraying her dislike; she knew not how; and trying to ascribe all to shyness, said, ‘It was so strange and new; I have never been out till now.’
‘Yes, if you will allow me to say so, I thought you got on admirably, considering how trying the situation was.’
‘Oh! I was very much frightened; but they are very kind—Mr. Martindale especially.’
‘Poor Mr. Martindale! I wish he could recover his spirits. He has never held up his head since Miss Fotheringham’s death. He is an admirable person, but it is melancholy to see him spending his life in that lonely manner.’
‘It is, indeed. I often wish anything would cheer him!’
‘All the family are devoted to him, if that would comfort him. It is the only point where Lady Martindale is not led by her aunt, that she almost worships him!’
‘I thought Mrs. Nesbit was fond of him.’
‘Did you ever hear that Percy Fotheringham once said of her, “That woman is a good hater”? She detested the Fotheringham family, and Mr. Martindale, for his engagement. No, he is out of her power, and she cannot endure him; besides, he is a rival authority—his father listens to him.’
‘I suppose Mrs. Nesbit is very clever.’
‘She has been one of the cleverest women on earth. She formed her niece, made the match, forced her forward into the very highest society—never were such delightful parties—the best music—every lion to be met with—Lady Martindale herself at once a study for beauty, and a dictionary of arts and sciences—Mrs. Nesbit so agreeable. Ah! you cannot judge of her quite, she is passee, broken, and aged, and, poor thing! is querulous at feeling the loss of her past powers; but there used to be a brilliance and piquancy in her conversation that has become something very different now.’
Violet thought it most prudent only to remark on Lady Martindale’s varied accomplishments.
‘She has carried them on much longer than usual. People generally give them up when they marry, but she has gone on. I am not sure whether it was the wisest course. There is much to be said on both sides. And I have sometimes thought Theodora might have been a little less determined and eccentric, if she had not been left so much to governesses,
