Part 78 (1/2)

Mr Mortimer Gazebee was taken into the de Courcy family, and did lead the Lady Amelia to the altar; and the Gresham twins did go there and act as bridesmaids. And, which is much more to say for human nature, Augusta did forgive her cousin, and, after a certain interval, went on a visit to that nice place in Surrey which she had once hoped would be her own home. It would have been a very nice place, Augusta thought, had not Lady Amelia Gazebee been so very economical.

We must presume that there was some explanation between them. If so, Augusta yielded to it, and confessed it to be satisfactory. She had always yielded to her cousin, and loved her with that sort of love which is begotten between fear and respect. Anything was better than quarrelling with her cousin Amelia.

And Mr Mortimer Gazebee did not altogether make a bad bargain. He never received a s.h.i.+lling of dowry, but that he had not expected.

Nor did he want it. His troubles arose from the overstrained economy of his n.o.ble wife. She would have it, that as she had married a poor man--Mr Gazebee, however, was not a poor man--it behoved her to manage her house with great care. Such a match as that she had made--this she told in confidence to Augusta--had its responsibilities as well as its privileges.

But, on the whole, Mr Gazebee did not repent his bargain; when he asked his friends to dine, he could tell them that Lady Amelia would be very glad to see them; his marriage gave him some eclat at his club, and some additional weight in the firm to which he belonged; he gets his share of the Courcy shooting, and is asked about to Greshamsbury and other Ba.r.s.ets.h.i.+re houses, not only ”to dine at table and all that,” but to take his part in whatever delights country society there has to offer. He lives with the great hope that his n.o.ble father-in-law may some day be able to bring him into Parliament.

CHAPTER x.x.xIX

What the World Says about Blood

”Beatrice,” said Frank, rus.h.i.+ng suddenly into his sister's room, ”I want you to do me one especial favour.” This was three or four days after Frank had seen Mary Thorne. Since that time he had spoken to none of his family on the subject; but he was only postponing from day to day the task of telling his father. He had now completed his round of visits to the kennel, master huntsman, and stables of the county hunt, and was at liberty to attend to his own affairs. So he had decided on speaking to the squire that very day; but he first made his request to his sister.

”I want you to do me one especial favour.” The day for Beatrice's marriage had now been fixed, and it was not to be very distant.

Mr Oriel had urged that their honeymoon trip would lose half its delights if they did not take advantage of the fine weather; and Beatrice had nothing to allege in answer. The day had just been fixed, and when Frank ran into her room with his special request, she was not in a humour to refuse him anything.

”If you wish me to be at your wedding, you must do it,” said he.

”Wish you to be there! You must be there, of course. Oh, Frank! what do you mean? I'll do anything you ask; if it is not to go to the moon, or anything of that sort.”

Frank was too much in earnest to joke. ”You must have Mary for one of your bridesmaids,” he said. ”Now, mind; there may be some difficulty, but you must insist on it. I know what has been going on; but it is not to be borne that she should be excluded on such a day as that.

You that have been like sisters all your lives till a year ago!”

”But, Frank--”

”Now, Beatrice, don't have any buts; say that you will do it, and it will be done: I am sure Oriel will approve, and so will my father.”

”But, Frank, you won't hear me.”

”Not if you make objections; I have set my heart on your doing it.”

”But I had set my heart on the same thing.”

”Well?”

”And I went to Mary on purpose; and told her just as you tell me now, that she must come. I meant to make mamma understand that I could not be happy unless it were so; but Mary positively refused.”

”Refused! What did she say?”

”I could not tell you what she said; indeed, it would not be right if I could; but she positively declined. She seemed to feel, that after all that had happened, she never could come to Greshamsbury again.”

”Fiddlestick!”

”But, Frank, those are her feelings; and, to tell the truth, I could not combat them. I know she is not happy; but time will cure that.

And, to tell you the truth, Frank--”