Part 49 (2/2)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
AFTER ALL.
”For perhaps the dreaded future Has less bitter than I think; The Lord may sweeten the waters Before I stoop to drink; Or if Marah must be Marah, He will stand beside the brink.”
All was ready for the reception of the newcomers. The hall at Enville Court was gay with spring flowers, and fresh rushes were strewn over the floor. Sir Thomas and d.i.c.k had gone so far as Kirkham to meet the visitors. Lady Enville, attired in her new kersey, which had cost the extravagant price of five s.h.i.+llings per yard, [Note 1] sat by the hall fire. Rachel, in the objectionable camlet, which had been declared too shabby to sweep the house in, stood near the door; while Clare and Blanche, dressed in their Sunday costume, were moving about the hall, giving little finis.h.i.+ng touches to things as they saw them needed.
”There be the horses!” said Blanche excitedly.
She was very curious to see her new sister.
In about ten minutes Sir Thomas entered, leading a masked lady by the hand. Jack came lounging behind, his hands in his pockets, after his usual fas.h.i.+on.
”Our new daughter,--the Lady Gertrude Enville.” [A fict.i.tious person.]
One glance, and Lady Enville almost fainted from pique. Lady Gertrude's travelling costume was grander than her own very best new velvet.
Violet velvet, of the finest quality, slashed in all directions, and the slashes filled with puffings of rich pale buff satin; yards upon yards of the costliest white lace, literally strewn upon the dress: rich embroidery upon the most delicate lawn, edged with deep lace, forming the ruff; a hood of black velvet, decorated with pearls and gold pa.s.s.e.m.e.nterie; white leather shoes, wrought with gold; long worked gloves of thick white kid,--m.u.f.f, fan, mask--all complete. As the bride came up the hall, she removed her mask, and showed a long pale face, with an unpleasant expression. Her apparent age was about thirty.
”Give you good even, Madam!” she said, in a high shrill voice--not one of those which are proverbially ”an excellent thing in woman.”
”These be your waiting gentlewomen?”
”These are my daughters,” said Lady Enville--stiffly, for her; the mistake had decidedly annoyed her.
”Ah!” And the bride kissed them. Then turning to Rachel,--”This, I account, is the lady mistress?”
(”That camlet!” said Lady Enville to herself, deeply vexed.)
Sir Thomas introduced her gravely,--”My sister.”
Lady Gertrude's bold dark eyes scanned Rachel with an air of contempt.
Rachel, on her part, quite reciprocated the feeling.
”You see, Niece, we keep our velvets for Sundays hereaway,” she said in her dry way.
The bride answered by an affected little laugh, a kiss, and a declaration that travelling ruined everything, and that she was not fit to be seen. At a glance from Lady Enville, Clare offered to show Gertrude to her chamber, and they went up-stairs together. Jack strolled out towards the stable.
”Not fit to be seen!” gasped poor Lady Enville. ”Sir Thomas, what can we do? In the stead of eighty pound, I should have laid out eight hundred, to match her!”
”Bear it, I reckon, my dear,” said he quietly.
”Make thy mind easy, Orige,” scornfully answered Rachel. ”I will lay my new hood that her father made his fortune in some manner of craft, and hath not been an Earl above these two years. Very ladies should not deal as she doth.”
Meanwhile, above their heads, the bride was putting Clare through her catechism.
”One of you maidens is not in very deed Sir John's sister. Which is it?”
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