October 1st. — All is settled
now. My father has given his consent, and the
time is fixed for Christmas, by a sort of compromise
between the respective advocates for hurry and delay.
Milicent Hargrave is to be one bridesmaid and Annabella
Wilmot the other — not that I am particularly
fond of the latter, but she is an intimate of the
family, and I have not another friend.
When I told Milicent of my engagement,
she rather provoked me by her manner of talking it.
After staring a moment in mute surprise, she said,
— ’Well, Helen, I suppose I ought to congratulate
you — and I am glad to see you so happy; but
I did not think you would take him; and I can’t
help feeling surprised that you should like him so
much.’
‘Why so?’
’Because you are so superior
to him in every way, and there’s something so
bold and reckless about him — so, I don’t
know how — but I always feel a wish to get out
of his way when I see him approach.’
‘You are timid, Milicent; but
that’s no fault of his.’
‘And then his look,’ continued
she. ’People say he’s handsome, and
of course he is; but I don’t like that kind of
beauty, and I wonder that you should.’
‘Why so, pray?’
’Well, you know, I think there’s
nothing noble or lofty in his appearance.’
’In fact, you wonder that I
can like any one so unlike the stilted heroes of romance.
Well, give me my flesh and blood lover, and I’ll
leave all the Sir Herberts and Valentines to you —
if you can find them.’
‘I don’t want them,’
said she. ’I’ll be satisfied with
flesh and blood too — only the spirit must shine
through and predominate. But don’t you
think Mr. Huntingdon’s face is too red?’
‘No!’ cried I, indignantly.
’It is not red at all. There is just
a pleasant glow, a healthy freshness in his complexion
— the warm, pinky tint of the whole harmonising
with the deeper colour of the cheeks, exactly as it
ought to do. I hate a man to be red and white,
like a painted doll, or all sickly white, or smoky
black, or cadaverous yellow.’
‘Well, tastes differ —
but I like pale or dark,’ replied she.
’But, to tell you the truth, Helen, I had been
deluding myself with the hope that you would one day
be my sister. I expected Walter would be introduced
to you next season; and I thought you would like him,
and was certain he would like you; and I flattered
myself I should thus have the felicity of seeing the
two persons I like best in the world — except
mamma — united in one. He mayn’t
be exactly what you would call handsome, but he’s
far more distinguished-looking, and nicer and better
than Mr. Huntingdon; — and I’m sure you
would say so, if you knew him.’
’Impossible, Milicent!
You think so, because you’re his sister; and,
on that account, I’ll forgive you; but nobody
else should so disparage Arthur Huntingdon to me with
impunity.’
Miss Wilmot expressed her feelings
on the subject almost as openly.
‘And so, Helen,’ said
she, coming up to me with a smile of no amiable import,
‘you are to be Mrs. Huntingdon, I suppose?’
‘Yes,’ replied I. ‘Don’t
you envy me?’
‘Oh, dear, no!’ she exclaimed.
’I shall probably be Lady Lowborough some day,
and then you know, dear, I shall be in a capacity
to inquire, “Don’t you envy me?”’
‘Henceforth I shall envy no one,’ returned
I.
‘Indeed! Are you so happy
then?’ said she, thoughtfully; and something
very like a cloud of disappointment shadowed her face.
’And does he love you — I mean, does he
idolise you as much as you do him?’ she added,
fixing her eyes upon me with ill-disguised anxiety
for the reply.
‘I don’t want to be idolised,’
I answered; ’but I am well assured that he loves
me more than anybody else in the world — as I
do him.’
‘Exactly,’ said she, with
a nod. ’I wish — ’ she paused.
‘What do you wish?’ asked
I, annoyed at the vindictive expression of her countenance.
‘I wish,’ returned, she,
with a short laugh, ’that all the attractive
points and desirable qualifications of the two gentlemen
were united in one — that Lord Lowborough had
Huntingdon’s handsome face and good temper,
and all his wit, and mirth and charm, or else that
Huntingdon had Lowborough’s pedigree, and title,
and delightful old family seat, and I had him; and
you might have the other and welcome.’
’Thank you, dear Annabella:
I am better satisfied with things as they are, for
my own part; and for you, I wish you were as well
content with your intended as I am with mine,’
said I; and it was true enough; for, though vexed
at first at her unamiable spirit, her frankness touched
me, and the contrast between our situations was such,
that I could well afford to pity her and wish her well.
Mr. Huntingdon’s acquaintances
appear to be no better pleased with our approaching
union than mine. This morning’s post brought
him letters from several of his friends, during the
perusal of which, at the breakfast-table, he excited
the attention of the company by the singular variety
of his grimaces. But he crushed them all into
his pocket, with a private laugh, and said nothing
till the meal was concluded. Then, while the
company were hanging over the fire or loitering through
the room, previous to settling to their various morning
avocations, he came and leant over the back of my
chair, with his face in contact with my curls, and
commencing with a quiet little kiss, poured forth
the following complaints into my ear:-
’Helen, you witch, do you know
that you’ve entailed upon me the curses of all
my friends? I wrote to them the other day, to
tell them of my happy prospects, and now, instead
of a bundle of congratulations, I’ve got a pocketful
of bitter execrations and reproaches. There’s
not one kind wish for me, or one good word for you,
among them all. They say there’ll be no
more fun now, no more merry days and glorious nights
— and all my fault — I am the first to
break up the jovial band, and others, in pure despair,
will follow my example. I was the very life
and prop of the community, they do me the honour to
say, and I have shamefully betrayed my trust —
’
‘You may join them again, if
you like,’ said I, somewhat piqued at the sorrowful
tone of his discourse. ’I should be sorry
to stand between any man — or body of men, and
so much happiness; and perhaps I can manage to do
without you, as well as your poor deserted friends.’
‘Bless you, no,’ murmured
he. ’It’s “all for love or
the world well lost,” with me. Let them
go to — where they belong, to speak politely.
But if you saw how they abuse me, Helen, you would
love me all the more for having ventured so much for
your sake.’
He pulled out his crumpled letters.
I thought he was going to show them to me, and told
him I did not wish to see them.
‘I’m not going to show
them to you, love,’ said he. ’They’re
hardly fit for a lady’s eyes — the most
part of them. But look here. This is Grimsby’s
scrawl — only three lines, the sulky dog!
He doesn’t say much, to be sure, but his very
silence implies more than all the others’ words,
and the less he says, the more he thinks — and
this is Hargrave’s missive. He is particularly
grieved at me, because, forsooth he had fallen in love
with you from his sister’s reports, and meant
to have married you himself, as soon as he had sown
his wild oats.’
‘I’m vastly obliged to him,’ observed
I.
‘And so am I,’ said he.
’And look at this. This is Hattersley’s
— every page stuffed full of railing accusations,
bitter curses, and lamentable complaints, ending up
with swearing that he’ll get married himself
in revenge: he’ll throw himself away on
the first old maid that chooses to set her cap at
him, — as if I cared what he did with himself.’
‘Well,’ said I, ’if
you do give up your intimacy with these men, I don’t
think you will have much cause to regret the loss of
their society; for it’s my belief they never
did you much good.’
’Maybe not; but we’d a
merry time of it, too, though mingled with sorrow
and pain, as Lowborough knows to his cost — Ha,
ha!’ and while he was laughing at the recollection
of Lowborough’s troubles, my uncle came and
slapped him on the shoulder.
‘Come, my lad!’ said he.
’Are you too busy making love to my niece to
make war with the pheasants? — First of October,
remember! Sun shines out — rain ceased
— even Boarham’s not afraid to venture
in his waterproof boots; and Wilmot and I are going
to beat you all. I declare, we old ‘uns
are the keenest sportsmen of the lot!’
‘I’ll show you what I
can do to-day, however,’ said my companion.
’I’ll murder your birds by wholesale, just
for keeping me away from better company than either
you or them.’
And so saying he departed; and I saw
no more of him till dinner. It seemed a weary
time; I wonder what I shall do without him.
It is very true that the three elder
gentlemen have proved themselves much keener sportsmen
than the two younger ones; for both Lord Lowborough
and Arthur Huntingdon have of late almost daily neglected
the shooting excursions to accompany us in our various
rides and rambles. But these merry times are
fast drawing to a close. In less than a fortnight
the party break up, much to my sorrow, for every day
I enjoy it more and more — now that Messrs.
Boarham and Wilmot have ceased to tease me, and my
aunt has ceased to lecture me, and I have ceased to
be jealous of Annabella – and even to dislike her
— and now that Mr. Huntingdon is become my Arthur,
and I may enjoy his society without restraint.
What shall I do without him, I repeat?