Part 67 (2/2)
”You have probably heard of him, Mrs. Delamayn, as the heir to Miss Brinkworth's Scotch property?”
”Exactly! Have you brought Mr. Brinkworth here to-day?”
”I bring his apologies, as well as Sir Patrick's. They went to Edinburgh together the day before yesterday. The lawyers engage to have the settlements ready in three or four days more, if a personal consultation can be managed. Some formal question, I believe, connected with t.i.tle-deeds. Sir Patrick thought the safest way and the speediest way would be to take Mr. Brinkworth with him to Edinburgh--to get the business over to-day--and to wait until we join them, on our way south, to-morrow.”
”You leave Windygates, in this lovely weather?”
”Most unwillingly! The truth is, Mrs. Delamayn, I am at my step-daughter's mercy. Her uncle has the authority, as her guardian--and the use he makes of it is to give her her own way in every thing. It was only on Friday last that she consented to let the day be fixed--and even then she made it a positive condition that the marriage was not to take place in Scotland. Pure willfulness! But what can I do? Sir Patrick submits; and Mr. Brinkworth submits. If I am to be present at the marriage I must follow their example. I feel it my duty to be present--and, as a matter of course, I sacrifice myself. We start for London to-morrow.”
”Is Miss Lundie to be married in London at this time of year?”
”No. We only pa.s.s through, on our way to Sir Patrick's place in Kent--the place that came to him with the t.i.tle; the place a.s.sociated with the last days of my beloved husband. Another trial for _me!_ The marriage is to be solemnized on the scene of my bereavement. My old wound is to be reopened on Monday next--simply because my step-daughter has taken a dislike to Windygates.”
”This day week, then, is the day of the marriage?”
”Yes. This day week. There have been reasons for hurrying it which I need not trouble you with. No words can say how I wish it was over.--But, my dear Mrs. Delamayn, how thoughtless of me to a.s.sail _you_ with my family worries! You are so sympathetic. That is my only excuse. Don't let me keep you from your guests. I could linger in this sweet place forever! Where is Mrs. Glenarm?”
”I really don't know. I missed her when we came out on the terrace. She will very likely join us at the lake. Do you care about seeing the lake, Lady Lundie?”
”I adore the beauties of Nature, Mrs. Delamayn--especially lakes!”
”We have something to show you besides; we have a breed of swans on the lake, peculiar to the place. My husband has gone on with some of our friends; and I believe we are expected to follow, as soon as the rest of the party--in charge of my sister--have seen the house.”
”And what a house, Mrs. Delamayn! Historical a.s.sociations in every corner of it! It is _such_ a relief to my mind to take refuge in the past. When I am far away from this sweet place I shall people Swanhaven with its departed inmates, and share the joys and sorrows of centuries since.”
As Lady Lundie announced, in these terms, her intention of adding to the population of the past, the last of the guests who had been roaming over the old house appeared under the porch. Among the members forming this final addition to the garden-party were Blanche, and a friend of her own age whom she had met at Swanhaven. The two girls lagged behind the rest, talking confidentially, arm in arm--the subject (it is surely needless to add) being the coming marriage.
”But, dearest Blanche, why are you not to be married at Windygates?”
”I detest Windygates, Janet. I have the most miserable a.s.sociations with the place. Don't ask me what they are! The effort of my life is not to think of them now. I long to see the last of Windygates. As for being married there, I have made it a condition that I am not to be married in Scotland at all.”
”What has poor Scotland done to forfeit your good opinion, my dear?”
”Poor Scotland, Janet, is a place where people don't know whether they are married or not. I have heard all about it from my uncle. And I know somebody who has been a victim--an innocent victim--to a Scotch marriage.”
”Absurd, Blanche! You are thinking of runaway matches, and making Scotland responsible for the difficulties of people who daren't own the truth!”
”I am not at all absurd. I am thinking of the dearest friend I have. If you only knew--”
”My dear! _I_ am Scotch, remember! You can be married just as well--I really must insist on that--in Scotland as in England.”
”I hate Scotland!”
”Blanche!”
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