Margaret Capel, vol. 3

"Do not kiss me, ma mie," said she, holding Margaret at arm's length, "you shall not catch this cold; but look here—your ticket for the T– ball. I was so afraid they might be all gone, as the ball takes place the day after to-morrow; but one of my few friends sent me this, so now set Mrs. Mason to work as fast as possible.

Margaret was young enough to feel elated at the thought of a ball; her eyes sparkled as she received the ticket, but recollecting the state of her friend, evidently on the borders of a severe cold, she strongly urged that they should give up all idea of the ball, it was of no consequence; certainly not worth running any risk.

Harriet was always positive in what she undertook, and she would not hear of a single objection. She meant to keep her room until they set off to the ball. She had not caught a cold but a chill, which was a very different thing; so she thrust a small bunch of keys into Margaret's hand, and told her to run down as the chapel bell was ringing, and to take her post at the breakfast table.

Mr. Humphries was at prayers, and accompanied her from the chapel. He mustered courage to pay her some awkward compliment upon her regular attendance. But Margaret, who was very reserved upon any subject connected with the feelings, said quietly, that she was very glad to take advantage of so good a custom, and then hastened to pay her respects to Mrs. Singleton and to commence her task of tea-making.

When Mr. Gage came in, he looked surprised to see Margaret in Harriet's place, coldly expressed his regret when he was told the reason; commended Miss Capel's superior prudence of the preceding evening, and then sat down quietly to his breakfast, and appeared to dismiss the subject from his mind.

During the day all the people who had been staying in the house, dropped off, one by one. Mr. Evan Conway took himself to some friend's house at the other end of the county. Mr. Gage and Mr. Humphries went out riding; and Margaret devoted herself to her friend.

At dinner, Mr. Gage did not condescend to make the commonest enquiries respecting Harriet's progress, which Margaret thought very ill-bred. But Mr. Humphries made up for his want of civility.

Mr. Singleton, who was very fond of this young man, made the approaching ball, an excuse for asking him to stay in the house for a short time; and Mr. Humphries, nothing loth to exchange for a while the crabbed society of his honoured mother for that of two pretty and accomplished women, accepted with readiness.

Margaret passed the evening with Harriet, who appeared much better, and in high spirits. She exhibited to Margaret her ball-dress. A black net, trimmed with clusters of carnations, with all the costly et ceteras of her toilet.

"You are always effective in your dress," said Margaret, looking at the gold net-work which Harriet was to wear on her head.

"That is the secret," said Harriet, "some people love to be in the fashion. Others think it distinguished to be plain; but give me effect. There is a great deal of sly effect in your white crape and blush roses, little one."

For Mason, with her usual prudence, had anticipated the materials for a ball dress, which she was now preparing with much skill and contentment.

Harriet took up her guitar and sang Margaret a Spanish song, then handing her the instrument, she bade her go on with the concert.

Margaret began a Barcarolle—presently a loud knock at the door.

"Olá! what now?" exclaimed Harriet.

"May we come in?" asked Mr. Singleton, putting his head in at the door.

"What is the meaning of We?" asked Harriet.

"Humphries and your humble servant," replied Mr. Singleton, almost shutting his head off in the door as he spoke.

"Well, I don't know! eh, Margaret?—Yes," returned Harriet, glancing round her boudoir. The maid had removed the ball dresses, and the room was very fit for a reception.

Mr. Humphries followed Mr. Singleton with a step much as if he were treading on eggs, and was very sorry for it.

Harriet held out her hand. "How glad I am to see you again, Mr. Humphries. I hope you are come to engage me to dance with you on Thursday."

Mr. Humphries smiled amazingly at this reception.

"Yes. I—I'm glad," he said, by way of reply.

"Well, but about the dancing," said Harriet eagerly.

"Oh! Will you dance the second quadrille with me, Miss Conway?"

"With pleasure, on one condition. That you will tell me who you have engaged for the first?"

A wide smile, but no answer.

"Well, Mr. Humphries, you are not going to be so rude as to refuse my request. I know I am to keep it secret. Come, tell me."

"I can't," returned Mr. Humphries, going through several convulsive movements.

"Is he not ill-natured, uncle Singleton?" asked Harriet, "I am sure I would tell Mr. Humphries, if I knew who was to be my first partner."

"But you will dance with me all the same?" asked Mr. Humphries.

"Well, I will then," said Harriet laughing; "but I am very angry with you."

Margaret had laid down the guitar and was standing in the Tudor window, pulling the dry leaves from the geraniums. Mr. Humphries joined her.

"Gage is down stairs with Mrs. Singleton," he said.

"So I thought," returned Margaret.

"They are playing at chess together."

"Are they, indeed!"

"Do you like chess, Miss Capel?"

"Not very much, Mr. Humphries."

"No more do I."

"Ha! ha! there's sympathy," cried Harriet, leaning back in her chair to gain a full view of them among the geraniums.

Mr. Singleton laughed heartily, and told Harriet not to spoil sport.

Mr. Humphries coloured, and tried to get more effectually behind the flower stands.

"Miss Conway is always laughing at one," he said.

Margaret could not deny it.

"But what I was going to say," remarked Mr. Humphries, coming close to Margaret and whispering. "Will you dance the first quadrille with me?"

"With pleasure," said Margaret, smiling.

"Thank you—you see I could not tell Miss Conway just now, because I did not know myself, till I had asked you."

"No, you could not, indeed."

"Well, I'm going now," he exclaimed, suddenly taking her hand. "God bless you!"

"Did you sneeze, Margaret?" asked Harriet, turning quickly round.

Mr. Humphries was walking fast to the door.

Margaret supposed the explanation was meant as a farewell, for he stopped at the door, said "good night!" accompanied by an extraordinary nod of the head, and vanished.

"That is one of the best fellows that ever lived," said Mr. Singleton, nodding at the door through which Mr. Humphries had departed.

"What do you say to that assertion, Margaret?" asked Harriet, looking mischievously at her.

"I will take Mr. Singleton's word for it," replied Margaret, with her usual calmness.

"But he is not the best dancer that ever lived, Uncle Singleton," said Harriet, laughing, "as Margaret will find to her cost. Come, he has set you a very good example. Vanish! and good night to you. And, uncle," she added, calling him back, "had you not better, in the course of the evening, take an opportunity to ask Mr. Humphries his intentions?"

Mr. Singleton was well used to Harriet's jests; he laughed, shook his head, and left the room.

CHAPTER V

But nature never framed a woman's heartOf prouder stuff than that of Beatrice;Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,Misprising what they look on; and her witValues itself so highly, that to herAll matter else seems weak.MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

"Well, ma mie, and what is it?" asked Harriet, as Margaret came hastily into her room while she was dressing for the ball. "Any-thing gone wrong with the blush roses."

"I am come about some blush roses," said Margaret, holding out a beautiful bouquet. "I do not know how it is, Harriet, but I found these on my toilet when I went up to dress."

"And who do you think gave me these carnations," asked Harriet, pointing to a splendid cluster of those flowers placed in a glass vase. "The fairies have matched our trimmings, that is all, Margaret. Blush roses for you—carnations for me."

"No, but is it your doing, Harriet?" asked Margaret earnestly.

"Faith, no;" said Harriet laughing, "who do you suspect; Mr. Humphries has not the wit, though you have so barbarously—"

"Harriet! do not accuse me."

"I do not know who would think me worth a bouquet," said Harriet, going composedly on with her toilet; "perhaps young Vesey, or Sir Hawarth Fane. I should not wonder if it were Sir Hawarth. I hope not, though."

"But it is so very disagreeable," said Margaret, "to be obliged to any one for a bouquet. I had much rather not wear it."

"Nonsense, child, it is quite proper—flowers, you know; if it were jewels it would be quite another thing. I dare say, after all, it comes from George Gage; eh! Charlotte?"

"La, Miss Conway! how you do startle one."

"Yes, he bribed you to place these two nosegays on our tables."

"Well, Miss Conway, it is no use denying any-thing to you."

"There, Margaret, now your mind is at rest, go back and dress. What splendid hair you have, child."

Mr. Singleton was loud in his commendations of the two young ladies. He was to accompany them. Mr. Gage and Mr. Humphries went together. It appeared to Margaret that Mr. Singleton was asleep in his corner of the carriage, and she could not forbear whispering to Harriet. "Do be civil to Mr. Gage, to-night."

"Why, so I am always, am I not?" said Harriet, "civil as an orange."

"Oh! not to-day at dinner."

"I am sure I said nothing," said Harriet.

"No, it was your manner."

"Well, he was rude too," returned Harriet, "why did he not ask me to dance?"

"Because," said Margaret, "he took it for granted you would refuse him."

"He had no business to take it for granted," was Harriet's perverse reply; "if he does ask me now, I shall certainly decline."

It was an excellent ball; the room was very prettily got up, and all the families of any consideration, far and near, were present. Mr. Singleton and the two ladies became at once an object of great attention. They were remarkably well dressed, and their style of beauty, so opposite and so distinguished, that every one was employed in passing an opinion upon them. Several people came up to Mr. Singleton, and asked eagerly who was the beautiful girl with the crown of blush roses. Mr. Singleton informed them that she was a Miss Capel—very good family—charming girl —excellent fortune—great friend of Harriet's. Almost all the ladies present disliked Harriet, and were delighted at the opportunity to set up a rival beauty. Had Margaret been poor, this would have been difficult; the men would have called her a pretty girl, and passed on to dance with somebody else; but as it was, Margaret was pronounced the belle of the ball-room, and besieged with requests for her hand from all quarters. She was engaged for the first quadrille, and was quite puzzled to remember and distinguish the numerous applicants for the succeeding dances. Mr. Gage entreated her to remember that her promise to dance with him was of very long standing, and having renewed it for the next waltz, he turned to Harriet, and begged for the honour of her hand. She was talking with her uncle, and just looked round with the words "Engaged, Mr. Gage." He bowed, and stepped back, and one of her numerous acquaintances coming up at the moment, she walked off with him to the dancers.

Margaret danced very quietly and well; Harriet's dancing was superb. She was light as air, and the precision of her steps, and the foreign expression and grace of her movements, excited universal attention.

When waltzing began, and she floated round the room on the arm of a young Spaniard who had just been introduced to her, and who had been staying at Sir Evan Conway's, there was quite a crowd collected to watch her and her partner. Directly Harriet became aware of this, she stopped, retired within the circle with her companion, and there stood talking with him in Spanish until the dance was over. This was not from any feeling of bashfulness, but because she did not choose to exhibit for the amusement of the company.

"In England," as she said haughtily to her partner, "if one dances a little better than a bear, one is actually mobbed in a ball-room!"

As soon as the waltz was over, the young Count led Harriet to her seat, and stood politely by her side, holding her flowers, and talking of the carnations of Andalusia. Harriet selected one of the finest, pulled it out of her bouquet, and gave it him. The Count very respectfully kissed her hand (a common courtesy in Spain), and placed the flower in his coat.

It may be supposed how excited all the ladies were. They never had seen in all their lives, such very indecorous behaviour in a public room. They really thought she ought to be desired to withdraw; and their anger was all the more pointed, as the Conde de F. was very distinguished in his appearance—was interesting from having taken an active part in some of the late Spanish squabbles, and was such a waltzer as no Englishman need ever hope to be.

George Gage, who was standing beside Margaret, after looking arrogantly into every corner of the room, said that he had formerly thought the T– ball very respectable, but that really to-night there was hardly a soul that one knew; and such a very—singular—set of beings, that he wondered how the two or three ladies who were present could find a change of partners. That, perhaps, as they knew nobody, Miss Capel would not object to honour him by taking another turn with him, when the next quadrille was over;—there was this advantage in waltzing, that you were not mixed up during the dance with Heaven knows who; and obliged, perhaps, to give your hand to a hair-dresser in passing. Margaret looked very arch during this speech, but she offered no opposition to Mr. Gage's remarks. She was, still, half afraid of him. She could not help seeing that he interrupted himself half-a-dozen times during his speech to bow to different people who had the honour of his acquaintance; and the thought crossed her mind, that a hair-dresser was not very likely to gain admittance to a county ball.

Every moment some one or other was coming up to Harriet to solicit her hand. Some she refused, some she evaded, some she put on her list. She was engaged in a sparkling conversation with the Spanish nobleman, which grew every moment more and more animated.

The Conde had come to the ball solely for the chance of meeting the Senorita, and she seemed determined to make it as agreeable to him as possible.

Mr. Singleton brought Margaret a partner, who had been very eager for an introduction. He was next to Harriet in the Mazourka, which was still rare enough to excite a good deal of attention. Every one not engaged in the figure stood round to watch the dancers. Mr. Gage, with Margaret's bouquet in his hand, leaned against a pillar, following with his eyes the graceful movements of Harriet and the Conde. A party, who had just entered the room, made their way into the front of the circle, and as Margaret was standing while Harriet and her partner were in the centre, the Conde on his knee, and Harriet passing round him, she heard a loud assured voice exclaim, "Heavens, Collins! what a handsome man."

She turned her head, and beheld a large middle-aged woman, with red hair, and a very plain face, extravagantly dressed, and leaning on the arm of a very young man, apparently under twenty. She was in a lace dress of great value, with a gold cord and tassels round her waist, and her arms loaded with bracelets, while the front of her dress was decorated with beetles, locusts, scorpions, and other reptiles in jewellery, after a fashion that was then making a great noise in Paris. The young man held a gold pomander-box and a flaçon, with the lady's bouquet and handkerchief: an elderly man stood a little behind with an Indian shawl over his arm.

"They are foreigners," said Mr. Collins, directing his glass towards Harriet and the Conde.

"Is he not handsome?" asked the lady.

"I think the girl the best looking," returned the young man.

"No—do you? Fan me, Collins, there's a good soul."

Mr. Collins unfurled her fan, fringed with swansdown, and proceeded to fan the "large lady."

"Is there any one here one knows?" said the lady, turning her head a little towards the elderly man.

"No, my dear, I think not," he replied.

"Ah, dear Paris!" said the lady, with a powerful sigh.

"Ah!" returned Mr. Collins.

"Could not we sit down somewhere?" asked the lady.

Way was made for her through the circle, and she sank on a bench. Mr. Collins stood fanning her.

"Do go and look for some ice, Collins, I am perishing with heat," said the lady.

"I'll try," replied the obedient Mr. Collins.

"That's a pretty modest girl—there—with the blush roses," said the lady, addressing her husband.

"Yes, my love," returned the good gentleman.

"What time did you order the carriage?"

"At two, dearest."

"What ice is this, Collins? Pine? Oh! it's pretty good; as well as one can expect in this remote corner of the earth. There, I feel better now."

Mr. Collins obsequiously held her ice-plate. "Will you dance to-night?" he asked, leaning over her.

"Why—I think I will take a few turns when the waltzing begins," she replied.

The Mazourka finished, Margaret went to claim her bouquet of Mr. Gage; but to her dismay, she found him leaning against the pillar in profound thought, and the floor quite strewn with the delicate leaves of her blush roses. He started on seeing her; seemed rather confused, a most unusual thing for him, and began to attempt some apology for his depredations.

He could only hope that Miss Capel would not again leave him to the mercy of his own reflections, now that she saw how badly he employed his leisure. He scarcely knew how to palliate his offence, for he was aware of the importance of a lady's bouquet.

Margaret, smiling archly, received the remains of her bouquet with a very good grace, and said that she suspected Mr. Gage had a better right to dispose of the flowers than she had.

He replied by a gracious bow and smile, and begged her with much humility to allow him to conduct her to the refreshment room.

There they found Harriet and the Spanish Count, standing eating ice and wafers. Harriet laughing and talking, the Conde keeping his eyes fixed upon her with that watchful admiration, that is very nearly allied to a more tender feeling.

Harriet turned quickly round to Margaret, leaned close to her ear, and exclaimed:

"My dear Margaret, such a discovery! Did you notice a large woman, superbly dressed, who came in during the Mazourka?"

"Yes," replied Margaret.

"Mrs. Maxwell Dorset, my dear!" said Harriet enforcing her words with a tap of her fan.

Margaret's face expressed, in a slight degree, her unspeakable surprise at this piece of news.

"A fact, my dear," resumed Harriet. "I am going to ask George to introduce me to her."

Margaret caught her friend by the arm as she was pressing forward.

"Harriet! you cannot be in earnest," she exclaimed, "you must be jesting—such a character. I am sure no friend of yours would present you."

"What a very innocent little soul!" said Harriet, drawing back, with a touch of scorn in her voice. "The lady's character is as fair as yours or mine. You may impeach her taste, Margaret, but not her virtue, for there stands her guarantee—her husband, good easy man! She merely takes presents of value from her admirers, instead of bouquets, like you and I. 'Men's eyes were made to gaze,' ma mie, and a beautiful woman may be admired, I hope, without being sent to Coventry for the offence."

"But after all that has past, Harriet," said Margaret, imploringly, "indeed, it would be very wrong to ask Mr. Gage."

"My dear, let 'bygones be bygones,'" said Harriet with an air of decision. "I wish Mr. Gage you would introduce me to that lady opposite—Mrs. Maxwell Dorset. I have a great inclination to become ac quainted with her." Harriet spoke with unusual suavity of manner.

Mr. Gage raised his eyebrows and looked at her for a moment with astonishment, and then without losing his self-possession, as she had hoped, he replied that he very much regretted it was entirely out of his power to comply with Miss Conway's request.

Harriet's eyes flashed fire; she turned away and went back to the ball-room, where she directly engaged Margaret to dance with the Conde de F– who was still in attendance upon her, and then after looking round on every side for some means of annoyance, she said calmly as if to herself, "I shall dance with Sir Hawarth Fane when he comes to ask me."

Mr. Gage, who well knew that this speech was pointed at him, remarked coldly, that he believed he had heard Sir Evan express a very decided opinion upon that subject.

Harriet looking every moment more resolute, repeated, "I shall dance with Sir Hawarth Fane."

Now the fact was, that Sir Hawarth Fane was one of the worst characters in the county, but he was a single man of large property, and therefore very well received in most families. He had given some decided proofs of admiration for Harriet; but Sir Evan had always required her to receive them as coldly as possible. Even Mr. Singleton had often begged her "for God's sake never to dance with that fellow Hawarth Fane."

Harriet received his homage as her due, had it been ten times more marked; treated him with the easy neglect she generally assumed towards her admirers, and never danced with him, for the single reason that he was forty years old, and had a red face.

Margaret could only hope that he would not make his appearance, but soon a stout figure was seen to emerge from the door-way, and with his glass in his eye, to look eagerly about for some one. Mr. Gage looked as resolute as Harriet, and both turned their eyes in the direction of the advancing Baronet. Margaret was breathless. Harriet drew her handkerchief through the jewelled ring hanging to her bouquetiére, and settled herself as if she meant to prepare for the next dance. It was quite clear, both to Mr. Gage and Margaret, that she had made up her mind. Mr. Gage looked like Creon, and Harriet like Antigone—neither spoke. Sir Hawarth who had been blundering about the room with his eye-glass, very much like a person who had sat a good deal too long after dinner, now caught sight of Harriet, and steered his course in her direction. Mr. Gage leaned over Margaret, and whispered to her:

"Miss Capel, the man is a thorough blackguard; he shall not dance with Harriet. If you cannot prevent it—I will."

Margaret looked up at him with such a glance of quick intelligence, as he could not have believed her to possess.

"Harriet!" she said, as Sir Hawarth neared them, "if you dance with that man, I will leave Singleton Manor to-morrow morning."

"You!" said Harriet, turning quickly upon her.

"I will," returned Margaret.

"I dare say," said Harriet laughing scornfully, "but I won't let you. I will lock you up in the store-room among the apricots."

"I am in earnest," said Margaret, "take your choice."

"The pleasure of dancing the next quadrille with you, Miss Conway," said Sir Hawarth Fane, evidently rather intoxicated.

"Engaged, Sir Hawarth," replied Harriet in some confusion, her colour rose, her breath grew short, she was evidently in much agitation.

"Engaged! I am deucedly sorry for that," said Sir Hawarth in a thick voice, "I'll wait till after this quadrille, and perhaps I may prevail on you to galop with me afterwards."

He certainly looked in a charming condition for a galop. Harriet replied that she was really sorry, but that they were to leave the ball-room after the next dance.

Sir Hawarth muttered something about his being in confounded ill-luck; and that there was not another woman in the room worth dancing with.

"And pray," he whispered, "could not you be off your engagement? Is it any very particular person? Who is it, if I may be so bold?"

The dancers were collecting; Harriet, not knowing how to answer, and aware that he was not quite composed in his mind, glanced uneasily round the room. Mr. Gage coming forward in the most natural manner, said easily:

"Now, Miss Conway, if you will do me the honour—"

Harriet took his arm, and joined the dancers.