Part 49 (2/2)

”Perhaps a waft of wind floated them off the plates,” said Brandon, climbing in over the window-ledge, ”and the servants restored them amiss. But, Mrs. Brandon, don't you think if that baby of yours squalls again after lunch, he had better drink his own health himself somewhere else? I say, how nice you look, love!--I like that gown.”

”He must come in, St. George; but do attend to business--look!”

”Whew!” exclaimed Brandon, having inspected the plates; ”it must have been a very intelligent waft of wind that did this.”

Two minutes after Brandon sauntered in again by the window, and John Mortimer observed the door. When Mrs. Brandon entered, she saw him standing on the rug keeping Emily in conversation. Mrs. Brandon admired Mr. Mortimer; he was tall, fair, stately, and had just such a likeness to Valentine as could not fail to be to his advantage in the opinion of any one who, remembering Valentine's smiling face, small forehead, and calm eyes, sees the same contour of countenance, with an expression at once grave and sweet; features less regular, but with a grand intellectual brow, and keen blue eyes--not so handsome as Valentine's, but with twice as direct an outlook and twice as much tenderness of feeling in them; and has enough insight to perceive the difference of character announced by these varieties in the type.

John Mortimer, who was persistently talking to Emily, felt that Brandon's eyes were upon him, and that he looked amused. He never doubted that his work had been observed, and that his wish would be respected.

”Luncheon's on the table.”

”John,” said Brandon instantly, ”will you take in my wife?”

John obeyed. He knew she did not sit at the head of the table, so he took it and placed her on his right, while Emily and her curate were on his left. It was a very large party, but during the two minutes they had been alone together Brandon and Dorothea had altered the whole arrangement of it.

John saw that Brandon had given to him his own usual place, and had taken the bottom of the table. He thought his own way of managing that matter would have been simpler, but he was very well content, and made himself highly agreeable till there chanced to be a little cessation of the clatter of plates, and a noticeable pause in the conversation. Then Justina began to play her part.

”Mr. Mortimer,” she said, leaning a little before Emily's curate, ”this is not at all too late for the north of Italy, is it? I want to visit Italy.”

”I should not set out so late in the year,” John answered. ”I should not stay even at Florence a day later than the end of May.”

”Oh, don't say that!” she answered. ”I have been so longing, you know, for years to go to the north of Italy, and now it seems as if there was a chance--as if my mother would consent.”

”You know!” thought John. ”I know nothing of the kind, how should I?”

”It really does seem now as if we might leave England for a few months,” she continued. ”There is nothing at all to keep her here, if she could but think so. You saw my brother the other day?”

”Yes.”

”And you thought he looked tolerably well again, did you not?”

”Yes; I think I did.”

”Then,” she continued persuasively, and with all serenity, several people being now very attentive to the conversation--”then, if my mother should chance to see you, Mr. Mortimer, and should consult you about this, you will not be so unfriendly to me as to tell her that it is too late. You must not, you know, Mr. Mortimer, because she thinks so much of your opinion.”

This was said in some slight degree more distinctly than usual, and with the repet.i.tion of his name, that no one might doubt whom she was addressing.

It made a decided impression, but on no one so much as on himself. ”What a fool I have been!” he thought; ”in spite of appearances this has been very far from her thoughts, and perhaps annoyance at the ridiculous rumour is what makes her so much want to be off.”

He then entered with real interest into the matter, and before luncheon was over a splendid tour had been sketched out in the Austrian Tyrol, which he proved to demonstration was far better in the summer than Italy. Justina was quite animated, and only hoped her mother would not object. It was just as well she expressed doubts and fears on that head, for Lady Fairbairn had never in her life had a hint even that her daughter was dying to go on the Continent; and Justina herself had only decided that it was well to intend such a thing, not that it would be wise or necessary to carry the intention out.

She exerted herself, keeping most careful watch and guard over her voice and smile. It was not easy for her to appear pleased when she felt piqued, and to feign a deep interest in the Austrian Tyrol, when she had not known, till that occasion, whereabouts on the map it might be found. She was becoming tired and quite flushed when the opportune entrance of the baby--that morsel of humanity with a large name--diverted every one's attention from her, and relieved her from further effort.

There is nothing so difficult as to make a good speech at a wedding or a christening without affecting somebody's feelings. Some people stand so much in fear of this, that they can hardly say anything. Others enjoy doing it, and are dreaded accordingly; for, beside the pain of having one's feelings touched, and being obliged to weep, there is the red nose that follows.

John, when he stood up to propose the health of his G.o.dson, St. George Mortimer Brandon (who luckily was sound asleep), had the unusual good-fortune to please and interest everybody (even the parents) without making any one cry.

It is the commonplaces of tenderness, and the every-day things about time and change, that are affecting; but if a speaker can add to all he touches concerning man's life, and love, and destiny, something reached down from the dominion of thought, beautiful and fresh enough to make his hearers wonder at him, and experience that elation of heart which is the universal tribute paid to all beautiful things, then they will feel deeply perhaps; but the joy of beauty will elevate them, and the mind will save the eyes from annoying tears.

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