"You must have had a distressing time. These affairs always mount up to a climax, unless people are very well bred. We saw it coming. Naturally we did not expect such a transformation of brides: who could? If I had laid myself down on my back to think, I should have had it. I am unerring when I set to speculating on my back. One is cooler: ideas come; they have not to be forced. That is why I am brighter on a dull winter afternoon, on the sofa, beside my tea-service, than at any other season. However, your trouble is over. When did the Middletons leave?"
"The Middletons leave?" said the ladies.
"Dr. Middleton and his daughter."
"They have not left us."
"The Middletons are here?"
"They are here, yes. Why should they have left Patterne?"
"Why?"
"Yes. They are likely to stay some days longer."
"Goodness!"
"There is no ground for any report to the contrary, Lady Culmer."
"No ground!"
Lady Culmer called out to Lady Busshe.
A cry came back from that startled dame.
"She has refused him!"
"Who?"
"She has."
"She? — Sir Willoughby?"
"Refused! — declines the honour."
"Oh, never! No, that carries the incredible beyond romance. But is he perfectly at…"
"Quite, it seems. And she was asked in due form and refused."
"No, and no again!"
"My dear, I have it from Mr. Dale."
"Mr. Dale, what can be the signification of her conduct?"
"Indeed, Lady Culmer," said Mr. Dale, not unpleasantly agitated by the interest he excited, in spite of his astonishment at a public discussion of the matter in this house, "I am in the dark. Her father should know, but I do not. Her door is locked to me; I have not seen her. I am absolutely in the dark. I am a recluse. I have forgotten the ways of the world. I should have supposed her father would first have been addressed."
"Tut-tut. Modern gentlemen are not so formal; they are creatures of impulse and take a pride in it. He spoke. We settle that. But where did you get this tale of a refusal?"
"I have it from Dr. Middleton."
"From Dr. Middleton?" shouted Lady Busshe.
"The Middletons are here," said Lady Culmer.
"What whirl are we in?" Lady Busshe got up, ran two or three steps and seated herself in another chair. "Oh! do let us proceed upon system. If not we shall presently be rageing; we shall be dangerous. The Middletons are here, and Dr. Middleton himself communicates to Mr. Dale that Lætitia Dale has refused the hand of Sir Willoughby, who is ostensibly engaged to his own daughter! And pray, Mr. Dale, how did Dr. Middleton speak of it? Compose yourself; there is no violent hurry, though our sympathy with you and our interest in all the parties does perhaps agitate us a little. Quite at your leisure — speak!"
"Madam… Lady Busshe." Mr. Dale gulped a ball in his throat. "I see no reason why I should not speak. I do not see how I can have been deluded. The Miss Patternes heard him. Dr. Middleton began upon it, not I. I was unaware, when I came, that it was a refusal. I had been informed that there was a proposal. My authority for the tale was positive. The object of my visit was to assure myself of the integrity of my daughter's conduct. She had always the highest sense of honour. But passion is known to mislead, and there was this most strange report. I feared that our humblest apologies were due to Dr. Middleton and his daughter. I know the charm Lætitia can exercise. Madam, in the plainest language, without a possibility of my misapprehending him, Dr. Middleton spoke of himself as the advocate of the suitor for my daughter's hand. I have a poor head. I supposed at once an amicable rupture between Sir Willoughby and Miss Middleton, or that the version which had reached me of their engagement was not strictly accurate. My head is weak. Dr. Middleton's language is trying to a head like mine; but I can speak positively on the essential points: he spoke of himself as ready to be the impassioned advocate of the suitor for my daughter's hand. Those were his words. I understood him to entreat me to intercede with her. Nay, the name was mentioned. There was no concealment. I am certain there could not be a misapprehension. And my feelings were touched by his anxiety for Sir Willoughby's happiness. I attributed it to a sentiment upon which I need not dwell. Impassioned advocate, he said."
"We are in a perfect maelstrom!" cried Lady Busshe, turning to everybody.
"It is a complete hurricane!" cried Lady Culmer.
A light broke over the faces of the Patterne ladies. They exchanged it with one another.
They had been so shocked as to be almost offended by Lady Busshe, but their natural gentleness and habitual submission rendered them unequal to the task of checking her.
"Is it not," said Miss Eleanor, "a misunderstanding that a change of names will rectify?"
"This is by no means the first occasion," said Miss Isabel, "that Willoughby has pleaded for his cousin Vernon."
"We deplore extremely the painful error into which Mr. Dale has fallen."
"It springs, we now perceive, from an entire misapprehension of Dr. Middleton."
"Vernon was in his mind. It was clear to us."
"Impossible that it could have been Willoughby!"
"You see the impossibility, the error!"
"And the Middletons here!" said Lady Busshe. "Oh! if we leave unilluminated we shall be the laughing-stock of the county. Mr. Dale, please, wake up. Do you see? You may have been mistaken."
"Lady Busshe," he woke up; "I may have mistaken Dr. Middleton; he has a language that I can compare only to a review-day of the field forces. But I have the story on authority that I cannot question: it is confirmed by my daughter's unexampled behaviour. And if I live through this day I shall look about me as a ghost to-morrow."
"Dear Mr. Dale!" said the Patterne ladies, compassionately. Lady Busshe murmured to them: "You know the two did not agree; they did not get on: I saw it; I predicted it."
"She will understand him in time," said they.
"Never. And my belief is, they have parted by consent, and Letty Dale wins the day at last. Yes, now I do believe it."
The ladies maintained a decided negative, but they knew too much not to feel perplexed, and they betrayed it, though they said: "Dear Lady Busshe! is it credible, in decency?"
"Dear Mrs. Mountstuart!" Lady Busshe invoked her great rival appearing among them: "You come most opportunely; we are in a state of inextricable confusion: we are bordering on frenzy. You, and none but you, can help us. You know, you always know; we hang on you. Is there any truth in it? a particle?"
Mrs. Mountstuart seated herself regally "Ah, Mr. Dale!" she said, inclining to him. "Yes, dear Lady Busshe, there is a particle."
"Now, do not roast us. You can; you have the art. I have the whole story. That is, I have a part. I mean, I have the outlines, I cannot be deceived, but you can fill them in, I know you can. I saw it yesterday. Now, tell us, tell us. It must be quite true or utterly false. Which is it?"
"Be precise."
"His fatality! you called her. Yes, I was sceptical. But here we have it all come round again, and if the tale is true, I shall own you infallible. Has he? — and she?"
"Both."
"And the Middletons here? They have not gone; they keep the field. And more astounding, she refuses him. And to add to it, Dr. Middleton intercedes with Mr. Dale for Sir Willoughby."
"Dr. Middleton intercedes!" This was rather astonishing to Mrs. Mountstuart.
"For Vernon," Miss Eleanor emphasized.
"For Vernon Whitford, his cousin." said Miss Isabel, still more emphatically.
"Who," said Mrs. Mountstuart, with a sovereign lift and turn of her head, "speaks of a refusal?"
"I have it from Mr. Dale," said Lady Busshe.
"I had it, I thought, distinctly from Dr. Middleton," said Mr. Dale.
"That Willoughby proposed to Lætitia for his cousin Vernon, Doctor Middleton meant," said Miss Eleanor.