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The week-day congregation were surprised one August morning at eight o'clock by the entrance of three ladies in the most recent style of fashionable simplicity, and making the most demonstrative tokens of reverence. As the Rector came out he was seized upon at once by the elder lady.
"Mr. Charnock! I must introduce myself; I knew your dear mother so well when we were both girls. I am so delighted to find such a church-quite an oasis; and I want to ascertain the best hour for calling on her. Quite an invalid-I was so shocked to hear it. Will the afternoon suit her? I am only here for three days to deposit these two girls, while I take the other on a round of visits. Three daughters are too great an affliction for one's friends, and Bee and Conny are so delighted to be near their brother and with dear Lena Vivian, that I am very glad above all, since I find there are real church privileges-so different from the Vicar of Wil'sbro'. Poor man; he is a great trial."
All this was said between the church and the lych-gate, and almost took Julius's breath away; but Mrs. Poynsett was prepared to welcome her old friend with some warmth and more curiosity.
Lady Susan Strangeways was a high-bred woman, but even high breeding could not prevent her from being overwhelming, especially as there was a great deal more of her than there had been at the last meeting of the friends, so that she was suggestive of Hawthorne's inquiry, whether a man is bound to so many more pounds of flesh than he originally wedded. However, it was prime condition, and activity was not impeded, but rather received impetus. She had already, since her matutinal walk of more than a mile and back, overhauled the stores for the bazaar, inspected the town-hall, given her advice, walked through the ruins for the church, expressed herself strongly on the horrors of the plan, and begun to organize shilling cards, all before Sir Harry had emerged from his room.
She was most warm-hearted and good-natured, and tears glistened in her honest gray eyes as she saw her old friend's helpless state. "You don't know how much I have improved," said Mrs. Poynsett; "I feel quite at liberty in this chair, all owing to my good daughters- in-law."
"Ah! I have so pitied you for having no girls! My dear daughters have been so entirely one with me-such a blessing in all I have gone through."
Mrs. Poynsett of course declared her complete comfort in her five sons, but Lady Susan was sure that if she had had as many boys, instead of one son and four daughters, she should have been worn out. Lorimer was a dear, affectionate fellow. Those he loved could guide him with a leash of gossamer, but young men in his position were exposed to so many temptations! There ensued a little sighing over the evils of wealth; and to see and hear the two ladies, no one would have thought that Julia Poynsett had married a young man for love-Susan Lorimer an old man for independence.
Possibly with her present principles she would not have done so; but through the vista of a long and prosperous widowhood deficiencies in the courtship were easily forgotten; and perhaps there was the more romance and sentiment now because she had been balked of it in her youth. She had freely allowed her eldest daughter to enter a sisterhood from the purest, most unselfish motives, but there was compensation in talking of her Margaret as a Sister of Mercy.
And ere long she was anxiously inquiring Mrs. Poynsett's opinion of Eleonora Vivian, and making confidences somewhat trying to the mother of the young lady's ardent lover.
She was quite aware that as to fortune there could hardly be a worse match than Miss Vivian; but she was sensible enough to see that her son had a sufficiency, and generous enough to like the idea of redeeming the old estate. Her husband had spent his latter years in a vain search for a faultless property, and his wealth was waiting for Lorimer's settling down. She had always regretted the having no vassals rightfully her own, and had felt the disadvantages of being Lady Bountiful only by tenant right. To save an old estate from entirely passing out of a family, and relieve 'a noble old wreck,' like Sir Harry, seemed to her so grand a prospect that she could not but cast a little glamour over the manner of the shipwreck. Still, to do her justice, her primary consideration was the blessing such a woman as Lenore might be to her son.
She had not fathomed Lady Tyrrell. No woman could do so without knowing her antecedents, but she understood enough to perceive that Eleonora was not happy with her, and this she attributed to the girl's deep nature and religious aspirations. Rockpier was an ecclesiastical paradise to Lady Susan, and a close bond with Lenore, to whom in London she had given all the facilities that lay in her power for persevering in the observances that were alien to the gay household at home. She valued this constancy exceedingly, and enthusiastically dilated on the young lady's goodness, and indifference to the sensation she had created. "Lorimer allows he never saw her equal for grace and dignity."
Allows! Fancy Frank allowing any perfection in his Lenore! Was it not possible that a little passing encomium on unusual beauty was being promoted and magnified by the mother into a serious attachment? But Lady Tyrrell was playing into her hands, and Lenore's ecclesiastical proclivities were throwing her into the arms of the family!
It hardly seemed fair to feign sympathy, yet any adverse hint would be treason, and Mrs. Poynsett only asked innocently whether her friend had seen her son Frank.
"Oh yes, often; the handsomest of all your sons, is he not?"
"Perhaps he is now."
"My girls rave about his beautiful brown eyes, just as you used to do, Julia, five-and-thirty years ago."
Mrs. Poynsett was sure that whatever she had thought of Miles Charnock's eyes five-and-thirty years ago, she had never raved about them to Susan Lorimer, but she only said, "All my boys are like their father except Charlie."
"But Master Frank has no eyes for any one but Miss Vivian. Oh yes, I see the little jealousies; I am sorry for him; but you see it would be a shocking bad thing for a younger son like him; whereas Lory could afford it, and it would be the making of him."
Mrs. Poynsett held her peace, and was not sorry that her visitor was called away while she was still deliberating whether to give a hint of the state of the case.
Lady Susan was, however, more aware of it than she knew; Lady Tyrrell had 'candidly' given her a hint that there had been 'some nonsense about Frank Charnock,' but that he could never afford such a marriage, even if his mother would allow it, all which she never would. Besides, he had not fallen into a satisfactory set in London-why, it was not needful to tell.
When, after the drive, Lady Tyrrell, fairly tired out by her visitor's unfailing conversation and superabundant energy, had gone to lie down and recruit for the evening, Lady Susan pressed on Eleonora a warm invitation to the house in Yorkshire which she was renting, and where Lorimer would get as much shooting as his colonel would permit. The mention of him made Lenore blush to the ears, and say, "Dear Lady Susan, you are always so kind to me that I ought to be open with you. Don't fancy-"
"I understand, I understand, my dear," broke in Lady Susan. "You shall not be teased. Do not the girls and I care for you for your own sake?"
"I hope so."
The elder lady sprang up and embraced her. Affection was very pleasant to the reserved nature that could do so little to evoke caresses. Yet Eleonora clasped her Rockpier charm in her hand, and added, "I must tell you that so far as I can without disobedience, I hold myself engaged to Frank Charnock."
"To Frank Charnock?" repeated Lady Susan, startled at this positive statement. "My dear, are you quite sure of his ways?-since he has been in town I mean."
"I know him, and I trust him."
"I'm sure he is a fine-looking young man, and very clever, they say; dear Julia Poynsett's son too, and they have all turned out so well," said honest Lady Susan; "but though you have been used to it all your life, my dear, a taste for horses is very dangerous in a young man who can't afford to lose now and then, you know."