The purchaser of Castle Blanch proved to be no other than Mr. Calthorp! Lucilla at first was greatly discomfited, and begged that nothing might be said about the picture; but the next time Mr. Prendergast arrived, it was with a request from Mr. Calthorp that Miss Sandbrook would accept the picture as a wedding gift! There was no refusing it-indeed, the curate had already accepted it; and when Lucilla heard that 'the Calthorp' had been two years married to what Mr. Prendergast called 'a millionairess, exceedingly hideous,' she still had vanity enough to reflect that the removal of her own resemblance might be an act of charity! And the sum that Honor had set apart for the purchase was only too much wanted for the setting up housekeeping in Spain, whither the portrait was to accompany her, Mr. Prendergast declared, like the Penates of the pious AEneas!
Robert brought in his gift on the last day of November, just before setting off for Sutton. It was an unornamented, but exquisitely-bound Bible and Prayer Book, dark-brown, with red-edged leaves.
'Good-bye, Lucilla,' he said; 'you have been the brightest spot to me in this life. Thank you for all you have done for me.'
'And for all I never intended to do?' said Lucilla, smiling, as she returned his pressure of the hand.
He was gone, not trusting her to speak, nor himself to hear a word more.
'Yes, Robin,' proceeded Lucy, half aloud, 'you are the greater man, I know very well; but it is in human nature to prefer flesh and blood to mediaeval saints in cast-iron, even if one knows there is a tender spot in them.'
There was a curious sense of humiliation in her full acquiescence in the fact that he was too high, too grand for her, and in her relief, that the affection, that would have lifted her beyond what she was prepared for, had died away, and left her to the more ordinary excellence and half-paternal fondness of the man of her real choice, with whom she could feel perfect ease and repose. Possibly the admixture of qualities that in her had been called fast is the most contrary to all real aspiration!
But there was no fault to be found with the heartfelt affection with which she loved and honoured her bridegroom, lavishing on him the more marks of deference and submission just because she knew that her will would be law, and that his love was strong enough to have borne with any amount of caprice or seeming neglect. The sacrifices she made, without his knowledge, for his convenience and comfort, while he imagined hers to be solely consulted, the concessions she made to his slightest wish, the entire absence of all teasing, would not have been granted to a younger man more prepossessing in the sight of others.
It was in this spirit that she rejected all advice to consult health rather than custom in her wedding dress. Exactly because Mr. Prendergast would have willingly received her in the plainest garb, she was bent on doing him honour by the most exquisite bridal array; and never had she been so lovely-her colour such exquisite carnation, her eyes so softened, and full of such repose and reliance, her grace so perfect in complete freedom from all endeavour at attracting admiration.
The married pair came back from church to Owen's sitting-room-not bear and monkey, not genie and fairy, as he had expected to see; but as they stood together, looking so indescribably and happily one, that Owen smiled and said, 'Ah! Honor, if you had only known twenty years ago that this was Mrs. Peter Prendergast, how much trouble it would have saved.'
'She did not deserve to be Mrs. Peter Prendergast,' said the bride.
'See how you deserve it now.'
'That I never shall!'
Brother and sister parted with light words but full hearts, each trying to believe, though neither crediting Mr. Prendergast's assurance that the two Owens should come and be at home for ever if they liked in Santa Maria de X--. Neither could bear to face the truth that henceforth their courses lay apart, and that if the sister's life were spared, it could only be at the sacrifice of expatriation for many years, in lands where, well or ill, the brother had no call. Nor would Lucilla break down. It was due to her husband not to let him think she suffered too much in resigning home for him; and true to her innate hatred of agitation, she guarded herself from realizing anything, and though perfectly kind and respectful to Honora, studiously averted all approaches to effusion of feeling.
Only at the last kiss in the hall, she hung round her friend with a vehement embrace, and whispered, 'Forgive! You have forgiven!'
'Forgive me, Lucilla!'
'Nay, that I have forgiven you for all your pardon and patience is shown by my enduring to leave Owen to you now.'
Therewith surged up such a flood of passionate emotions that, fleeing from them as it were, the bride tore herself out of Honor's arms, and sprang hastily into the carriage, nervously and hastily moving about its contents while Mr. Prendergast finished his farewells.
After all, there was a certain sense of rest, snugness, and freedom from turmoil, when Honor dried her eyes and went back to her convalescent. The house seemed peaceful, and they both felt themselves entering into the full enjoyment of being all in all to one another.
There was one guest at the Sutton wedding whose spirit was at St. Wulstan's. In those set eyes, and tightly-closed lips, might be traced abstraction in spite of himself. Were there not thoughts and prayers for another bride, elsewhere kneeling? Was not the solitary man struggling with the last remnants of fancies at war with his life of self-devotion, and crushing down the few final regrets, that would have looked back to the dreams of his youth. No marvel that his greatest effort was against being harsh and unsympathizing, even while his whole career was an endeavour to work through charities of deed and word into charities of thought and judgment.
CHAPTER XXX
Untouched by love, the maiden's breast
Is like the snow on Rona's crest
High seated in the middle sky,
In bright and barren purity;
But by the sunbeam gently kissed,
Scarce by the gazing eye 'tis missed,
Ere down the lonely valley stealing,
Fresh grass and growth its course revealing;
It cheers the flock, revives the flower,
And decks some happy shepherd's bower.-SCOTT
Slow to choose, but decided in her choice, Phoebe had always been, and her love formed no exception to this rule. She was quite aware that her heart had been given away, and never concealed it from herself, though she made it a principle not to indulge in future castle buildings, and kept a resolute guard over her attention. It was impossible to obviate a perpetual feeling of restlessness and of tedium in whatever she was about; but she conquered oftener than she gave way, and there was an indescribable sense of peace and sweetness in a new and precious possession, and an undefined hope through all.
Miss Fennimore, who came the day after the girls' return from Sutton, saw only the fuller development of her favourite pupil, and, in truth, Maria and Bertha had so ineffably much to narrate, that her attention would have been sufficiently engrossed to hinder her observation of the symptoms, even had the good lady been as keen and experienced in love as in science.
Poor little Phoebe! equable as she was, she was in a great perturbation when, four days before Christmas, she knew that Miss Charlecote, with Owen Sandbrook and Humfrey Randolf, had arrived at the Holt. What was so natural as for her to go at once to talk over the two weddings with her dear old friend? Yes, but did her dear old friend want her, when these two young men had put an end to her solitude? Was she only making Miss Charlecote an excuse? She would wait in hopes that one of the others would ask if she were going to the Holt! If so, it could not but be natural and proper-if not- This provoking throbbing of her heart showed that it was not only for Honor Charlecote that she wished to go.