Fair, but not False. A novel

Chapter I

Ho, maidens of Vienna ! ho, matrons of Lucerne ! Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return. Macaulay. Next day the news, which had been but vaguely reported in this little out-of-the way place, assumed a definite form, and the accounts of the glorious battle of the Alma were spread far and wide. Constance heard the news, when she went for her singing to Mrs. Blake's, but beyond the bare facts very little had been reported. " Do you know, Constance," Mrs. Blake said, " I believe the poor — th were in it, and the lists of killed and wounded will be out in a day or two." Constance was overtaken on her way home VOL. II. B by Captain Manley ; the topic of conversation was, of course, this last news. Constance expressed great concern for the regiments engaged. " Did you knoAv the — th well ?

They left here just as we came, I think." Constance told him the names she knew, and about the Smiths, Browns, &c. " Every one Avill be anxious," she said, " to hear about them. If you should have any further neAvs, perhaps you will kindly let us know." He said he Avould ; and the next morning wrote a note, saying that " he was not able to call, the Colonel having started for the North for shooting and visits, &c, so that his OAvn time was too much taken up to leave the barracks that day, but he sent Mrs. Raymond a paper with the full particulars of the last great battle." Mrs. Raymond and Constance hastily ran their eyes down the list:— r" — th Division, — th Regiment. Major Norris, severely wounded ; Captain Brown, killed ; Lieu tenant Jones, killed ; Lieutenant Robinson, severely wounded."

" Poor Mrs. Brown," said Constance, her eyes filling, and thinking of the last time she had met her. The others she scarcely knew by sight, only she recollected having observed poor Lieutenant Jones coining away from the service that afternoon. Poor Emily Leslie ! Avas she not one of those to be pitied, sad and sick at heart as she was, and yet Avith no right to show more sorrow than others around her? She was quiet and reserved, and no one could have known all that grief she was hiding away in her heart, unless they could have stood at her bed-side that night, and heard her sobs and moans. No one did know how much she felt. But is it not ever so ? Are there not many sad hearts, avIio, having no right to be sorry and sore, are fain to hide their feelings and look unconcerned and smiling even as others, without pity and without sympathy, and feeling the pressure of their burden doubly from having to conceal it from out ward observation ?

The poor young fellow's mother, too. What bitter tears she shed for her only son ! — such a good, dear son, as he had always been ; and how sad she felt, when she opened the little packet of his treasures forwarded to her, his father's miniature, the lock of her own pre cious hair, and that little well-worn Prayer- Book, carried so long in his waistcoat-pocket, and which opened at the 20th day of the month. There, to mark the place of daily reading, lay a folded bit of paper, containing " but a little faded flower," and the words " Given me by E. L., June 20th, 1853." " Who was E. L. ?" thought the mother, but she never kneAv. Did not knoAv that she, too, was now shedding tears over the rose he had given her in exchange for those little faded violets she wore in her bosom. It was the first and last love-passage between them !

The next Gazette brought the promotions consequent on these disasters. The Major had died of his wounds, and Captain Smith had succeeded him, and Lieutenant Robinson, so severely wounded, was promoted to the vacant company; Ensign Slocombe, Lieu tenant. Where was Ensign Newman ? He had sold out immediately on arriving at Malta, and came back to England, where he was to enter as clerk in an office of some kind. He was obliged to spend a night at Southampton on his way back, and he found the barmaid of the hotel so very attractive, that he proposed to her the next day, and in due time they were married, — with or without the " consent of friends," we cannot say. But he is very happy ; she is very pretty and chatty, and does all the talking, and will have plenty of money when her father dies.

He is dull, good-humoured, and not at all fastidious ; so, on the whole, perhaps, he has done nearly as well for himself as if he had married Matilda. But let us not waste more time over this fickle-minded young man ! Mrs. Raymond and Constance pursued the even tenor of their way. A ' ' little stranger " having just arrived at Mrs. Blake's, the lessons there were, for a time, suspended. The Colonel being away, there were not many grand entertainments, but plenty of quiet, sociable evenings, which the military found very pleasant, and did not enjoy themselves less from the fact of "the cat " being "away,' Captain Manley being too busy with regimental work to go out much, solaced himself in his leisure moments with Canada correspondence. In one of his letters he amused the fair Beatrice rather by his account of some of the Colonel's notions — his last benevolent idea in regard to Con stance (he generally took Arthur Manley into his confidence), — "And actually the other day came to consult me on the colour and material of a dress he had made up his mind to purchase for Constance. ' Poor thing,' he said, ' she is so shamefully dis figured by those short, old-fashioned frocks and shabby hats, &c.' He Avas going to write up to London, and order a whole set of out-of-door apparel for her, if I had not stopped him.

It was as much as I could do to prevent him, and he gave me no end of black looks and cutting speeches for the rest of the day. You can fancy the sort of felloAv he is. But I Avould not have let him mortify the poor girl for more than that ; she has no nonsense nor foolish pride nor shame about being poor, but has as much self-respect and proper ideas of things as any girl I ever saw. I hope she will know you some day. I am sure you would like each other, and you could be of great use to her in many little ways. The Colonel is still quite heart whole, but has now gone galiA7anting about, and, of course, going to be flattered and made up to by some more mammas and daughters he will meet. I sometimes fancy, in spite of his evident gratification, that he sees through, and is rather disgusted with, the flattery he gets.

Still, I never saw any one with such a thorough good opinion of everything he says and does. I wish he could ' see himself as others see him ' some times ; but people treat him as if they agreed in his opinion of himself, — all but I ; but I believe he only puts that down to envy and jealousy on my part." Constance had not lost sight of the vague hopes of doing something for her father, though any little sum it Avas in her power to earn was, she felt, but ' ' a drop in the bucket "; but, on the other hand, " many a little makes a muckle " she had heard ; and now she had made a beginning it was pleasant to go on adding to it. Even if it should never reach to the dimensions sufficient to obtain the much-coveted rank, it might help or be useful to her father in some other way. She still continued, when there was nothing more pressing to be done, to go on with her illustrations ofthe "Idylls."

The Colonel's promised books had never come ; probably he had forgotten them, or been too busy before leaving to hunt them up. Constance hardly expected him to remember about them. Her grandmother encouraged her works of art. King Arthur was her favourite hero, and she had contrived to give him a very handsome face. Unknown to herself, it was modelled on one she had seen not unfrequently of late, and it Avas almost with a start and a blush that she heard her grandmamma remark, " A decided likeness to the Colonel of the regiment, I forget his name always." — "Colonel St. Aubyn, grandmamma," and she could not but perceiA^e the resemblance ; and then she also observed that she had made Enid very like the tall, handsome Lady Selina. " It ought to have been Guinevere," she said to herself, smiling inwardly; and then she wondered whether Colonel St. Aubyn was at that moment making himself agreeable to the afore-mentioned lady, for she had heard from Arthur that he Avas going to stay at Lord Fleetwood's (her father's) among other visits, and she thought how pleasant it must be for Lady Selina to have so agreeable a friend, — one so kind and hand some withal.

And then a shadow crossed the picture — that frown, that look of dis pleasure, almost the last expression she had seen on his face as she drove away from the Harleys' door. Till then he had been her beau-ideal of everything that was manly, noble, aristocratic, charming, gentle. Now a tiny little bit of the latter had crumbled away, and yet she should not be the one to reflect upon him for that. Was it not because he had been anxious to give her pleasure that he had seemed vexed with her for not complying ? " Grandmamma," asked Constance, one day, "now that I have those four hours in the week that I do not go to Mrs. Blake, Avill you let me spend them as I like ? " "You must tell me what you wish to do with them first," said Mrs. Raymond, Avith a smile. Constance explained how that the sister of one of her Sunday scholars, who had just gone to "live out," was at Farmer Corbett's, — "that large farm, you know, at the end of Budge Lane," — "Yes, about two miles from here, I remember," — and that the eldest daughter was anxious to learn music.

Her father had just bought a piano — given seventy guineas for it, — and how that Mr. Crowe, the organist at St. Michael's, was so very expensive, and Mr. Bates, the schoolmaster here, had already as many pupils as he could manage, — ■ "and so I thought if you would let me teach her, I should be so glad ; it would be good practice for me, grandmamma, you know," Constance added, "and I Avould charge just as Mr. Bates does ; and I should have that money to add to my little fund." Mrs. Raymond consented after a little consideration, and Constance soon entered on her new employment. She found it no easy task to teach Miss Lizzie, a young lady of fifteen, who seemed to think "scales, and exercises, andsuch-like trash," quite beneath her notice, and wished to dash at once into tunes — " polkas, or galops, or something sensible," as she expressed it.

But her mother came to the rescue : she had been a lady's-maid before her exaltation to the position of Mr. Corbett's wife, and said that the young ladies at the Hall were " for eATer practising the scales and all sorts of out landish noises ; and they got to play beau tiful in the end." Constance persevered, and the sum she realized by her exertions, though small, encouraged her ; and the long walks were healthful, and it was a variety from her other work, and, as she said, ' ' good practice " for what she should ha\-e to do in the future. She showed her grandmamma her little stock of capital with a pleased smile. "Poor child!" thought Mrs. Raymond, "it is of no use to tell her how utterly hope less her project is. It is, however, a stimulus to exertion, and an unselfish one, if it is not likely to be successful."

Chapter II

Oh, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! Shakespeare. " Oh, Matilda," said Miss Laura Thompson, one day, as they met in the street, "can you tell me Avho that is?" — and she directed Miss Conder's attention to a lady passing by on the opposite side. Matilda, who was short-sighted, peered about her vaguely. " The lady avIio has just gone into Cal thorpe's Library. Did you see her ? She is such a conspicuous-looking person. I saw her a day or two ago, for the first time, as I was walking Avith Sophia, and we were both very much struck by her appearance. She is so very handsome and stylish-looking, — not very young, I should say, but with a quantity of light hair, and such a lovely complexion, and dressed in slight mourning. I don't think you would forget her if once you had seen her. She is certainly a stranger.

I fancied she half-bowed to you as she passed us." " Oh, yes ; I suppose you must ha\re seen Mrs. Bland," — and Matilda went on to state how they had seen her at the Friday service, and they had all noticed her ; and mamma had stopped and spoken to her, and found out where she was staying — at Mrs. Forster's lodgings, nearly opposite the Barrack-gate, in the High Street." " And did Mrs. Conder find out her name ? " " No, but niamma left our cards, and I suppose Mrs. Bland felt as if she knew us partly, and therefore bowed to me just now. Mrs. Forster told mamma her name was Mrs. Bland. She was a widow, and rather out of health. She had come from abroad, expecting to stay with some friends in this neighbourhood, and when she had reached their house she found it shut up, and they gone from home ; and she had come here to rest for a time, and also thinking that the sea air might do her good."

"I wonder who she is," returned Laura • " I mean, if she is well connected. She is certainly a very striking looking person." " Mamma thought she might be lonely," continued Matilda, " and asked Mrs. Forster if she had any acquaintances here ; but she said that Mrs. Bland knew no one in Sand port. She had hired a piano, and sang nearly all day ; and she read a good deal, and went out in the afternoons; but she seemed rather delicate, and Avas very late in the mornings. I believe mamma is going to ask her to the Rectory soon." " Oh, then," remarked Laura, " if you have called on her, and are going to ask her to the house, I should think that we had better do the same," for, as I have before remarked, the Thompsons neArer felt self reliance enough to take the initiative in anything. Accordingly the next day, Mrs. Thompson and her two daughters (Mrs. Thompson was rather a kind, not very strong-minded person, of delicate health, who looked up to and was greatly guided by her energetic, liA^ely daughter Laura, and her sententious literary one, Sophia) set out in their carriage and pair to call on Mrs. Bland.

They liked to do things in the correct manner ; and Laura, who had been much impressed with — as she considered it — Mrs. Bland's aristocratic ap pearance, had instilled a due respect for her into her mother and sister. While they waited for the bell to be ansAvered, Mrs. Thompson said, — " It will be rather awk ward, will it not, Laura, not knoAving Mrs. Bland ? But we must introduce ourselves ; and you can say that the Conders had been talking to you of her, or something — " " Oh, mamma, I don't think there will be anything awkward ; one can soon see whether she considers it a liberty or dislikes it." At last Mrs. Forster's small servant ap jieared, rather redolent of brown soap and dinner, suggestive of washing and cooking going on, as is the wont of lodgings, and replying that Mrs. Bland was in, the Thomp sons ascended the stairs to the little sitting room on the first floor.

They had been there on former occasions, to call on the military ladies who had often occupied it. To-day there seemed to be a complete trans formation in its appearance, as they gave more than one glance round the apartment while they awaited Mrs. Bland's entrance. All the crochet antimacassars had been swept away from chairs, tables, and sofa ; ditto the fluffy wool mats from the side table. In the place of the latter was a pretty Algerine scarf, forming a table-cloth, and writing materials and pretty little nick-nacks lay there. The large oil painting of the late lamented Forster, in blue coat and brass buttons and red cheeks, had also gone, and a water-colour drawing replaced him ; and the dusty wax flowers, with their glass shades, were removed from the vases on the chimney -piece, and in their stead Avere pretty natural flowers, fresh and fragrant.

Even the pair of china dogs, Mrs. Forster's wed ding present, were ignominiously banished, and a pair of delicate little antique candle sticks took their place. The Venetian blinds were draAvn down OArer the open windows, and pots of mignonnette spread their refreshing odour throughout the apartment. The piano Avas open, and a song from " La Traviata " lay upon it ; and a pretty little work-basket, containing lace and implements of needlework, and books, Avere on the round table which formerly occupied the centre of the room, but was now drawn up beside the sofa. The whole apartment had an air of comfort and refinement quite unusual to it, and looked a very attractive reception-room. Laura Avas just settling herself into a company manner and attitude — after peeping round the room for a considerable time, as Mrs. Bland did not hurry herself, — and they all prepared to receive her with pretty speeches and apologetic introductions.

How ever, it was quite unnecessary, for Mrs. Bland glided in gracefully, with the most self possessed manner, and, advancing towards them with the sweetest of smiles, said, with out Avaiting for any words from her visitors, "I have heard your name from Mrs. Forster. I must introduce myself — Mrs. Bland. You know my name, I think, and I must thank you for this great, this xmexpected VOL. II. c kindness in coming to call on an insignifi cant, lone woman like myself." She did not look insignificant, nor as if she thought so, as she stood there, tall and dignified, with her long black silk dress trailing gracefully behind her, and her golden tresses arranged after the newest Paris fashion, and her delicate pink cheeks, and brilliant dark eyes, with their darker lashes and brows. The only thing to be token invalidism was, that she wore a thin shawl or scarf of some delicate material, and that she gaAre a slight cough, and put her hand to her side.

All the three ladies became absorbed at once in her, and Miss Sophia remarked that she could sympathize with her in not being strong. " I am an nwalid myself. I am subject to such great prostrations of strength, and I feel any fatigue so much, and am unable to join in many of the recreations of my friends that require strength. I was obliged to have my maid to sit up with me all last night," she said, "to rub my hands, or to fan me, or something, because I had been for rather too long a walk in the after noon. And you too," she added, "seem to be suffering from a cough." " Oh, thanks, that is not much," returned the other; "but my chest is sometimes rather troublesome ; in fact, it is so bad that I lose my voice entirely for days and Aveeks together. And it conies on in the most sudden and unaccountable manner, morning, afternoon, or evening, without any previous warning, and sometimes rny voice will come back again just as suddenly and unaccount ably, — at least, no one understands it but myself."

" Dear me, how distressing," exclaimed all the ladies. But Mrs. Bland broke in Avith a little silvery laugh, "I really did not mean to talk so much about my ailments. I think it is bad enough to have them oneself, without inflicting them on others. Nothing is more tiresome — don't you think so ? — than listening to accounts of people's bad health, or talking of it, as if one were a doctor." (Sophia's creed was quite a different one.) " We must find some more agreeable topic. But, dear Mrs. Thompson, I did not see that you are sitting just in the draught of that window. Do, pray, take this place, this com fortable seat." And Mrs. Bland insisted on her changing her place, helping her, as she was rather infirm, and placing her very comfortably in the low arm-chair. She began to make herself very agreeable to all the ladies.

She had evidently been in good society, the Misses Thompson thought, Then, in an unobtrusive, lady-like way, she inquired about the Sandport people, and the place, and church, &c. " Some other people," she remarked, " have also been kind enough to call upon me,, a Mrs. Conder and her daughters, but I missed them." And Laura explained that they were the Rector's wife and daughters. " And there seems to be a band here, and I have seen soldiers about ; a garrison town, I suppose ? " Laura and Sophia answered in the affirma tive, and expatiated largely on the charms of the gallant Norssex, and asked if Mrs. Bland had ever met the regiment anywhere ? She had never met the regiment, but she inquired the names of the officers, and Laura told her all she knew, and mentioned the absence of the Colonel, and that Captain Manley, the Adjutant, too, had just gone to see his parents.

" Captain Manley has gone with the Colonel, did you say ?" Laura set her right. "Well," said Mrs. Bland, after a little more talk Avith the girls, " you seem to be a very pleasant and happy little community. I am so glad to get back to England, and I think I am so fortunate in pitching on this charming little place for a short sejour." And she alluded to her foreign residence, and the ill health which necessitated it, but did not dwell upon her ailments, true to her pro fession. When the Thonipsons got up to go, Mrs. Bland looked at a pretty little travelling-clock on the chimney-piece. ' ' Will you stop and have a cup of tea ?" she asked. " Oh, thank you, no," they exclaimed. " Why, how long we must have stayed ! We came away not long after luncheon." "It is because Mrs. Bland has been so very agreeable," said mild, benevolent Mrs. Thompson ; " but I am afraid we must have tired you out."

"Oh, dear, Mrs. Thompson, if you only knew AA-hat a pleasure this has been, how immensely I have enjoyed your society, and that of your charming daughters, you could not say so." Scarcely were the mother and daughters re-seatecl in the carriage, than the young ladies exclaimed; " Is not she delightful, mamma ? Such a thoroughly refined and fascinating manner ! " pronounced Sophia, "Yes; I do not know when I have seen any one who took my fancy so much," responded poor little Mrs. Thompson. Mrs. Bland had escorted her A'isitors to the head of the stairs, and Avatched them drive aAvay, and, returning to her room, thus soliloquized, — " I thought I was never going to get rid of them ! What a prosy set ! and what plain girls ! What could have induced them to call ? And what hideous taste the eldest one has.

And that little thin one evidently sets up to be interesting, with her health, &c, and a blue, too, from the way she talked about books, and pictures, &c. But one must put up Avith it ; one cannot do Avhat one wants without going through all sorts of tiresome things, and being constantly bored to death in one way or another. But they may be of use to me, so I shall be civil and sweet to all. I wonder if the other people are as stupid and humdrum. I suppose these Thompsons intend to ask me to their house. I 'rn not in any particular hurry to go out of an evening ; hoAvever, I may as well take Avhatever comes, and make the best of my time, and so I must not be too fastidious. Captain Manley, — ■ who is this Captain Manley, I wonder ? Oh, no ; he did not go with the Colonel." And then she went on to other and deeper thoughts, but these she did not utter aloud.

Mrs. Conder was the first to fulfil her intention of asking Mrs. Bland to her house. She had heard of her singing, and thought it would be a good opjwrtunity to invite her and judge of its merits while Colonel St. Aubyn was absent. She should not like this stranger to eclipse her Matilda if she could help it. Mr. George Avas taken Avith a strong desire to hear Mrs. Bland's voice. He was very much struck Avith her appearance Avhen she returned his mother's visit. So Mrs. Conder invited the new-comer, together with the rest of the Sandport society, — as many as the rooms would hold, — and included, for a wonder, Constance. She thought it would be a recompense for defrauding her of that pic-nic, and such a good time to ask her, too, noAv that the Colonel was out of the way. Mrs. Raymond willingly assented to her going, she had not been out much lately ; so she appeared in her "Sunday gown," clean and fresh, and a blue ribbon in her fair hair, but rather later than the other guests, as she could not leave her grandmother earlier.

She anticipated great pleasure in listening to Mrs. Bland's singing, of which she had heard very surprising accounts. Some family music was going on, and Con stance was arrested in the hall by little Amy, with her finger on her lips. But when the trio was at an end, Constance thought she might venture to enter the drawing-room, and did so, just as Mrs. Bland had taken her seat at the piano, on the opposite side of the room. Constance quietly subsided into a chair near the door, and listened, in great admiration of the rich, deep tones, and the wild, sad cadences of the impassioned voice, so different from anything she had heard before, and so far beyond Matilda Conder's, or any other in Sandport. Mrs. Bland had a really wonderfully fine voice, and immense power of expression. As soon as the song was done, she was surrounded by her auditors, full of thanks and praises.

She had been seated with her back to Constance, who had been only able to see her well-formed figure and profusion of fair hair. Presently, Mrs. Bland turned slowly round, and, resuming her gloves and handkerchief, was aboiyt to rise from her seat, when she caught sight of a face she had not hitherto seen, and any one happening to notice her would have witnessed a look of surprise and almost a start. Constance herself did not seeit. She was justat that moment shaking hands with Dr. Conder. Mrs. Bland recovered herself in a moment, and quietly rose, crossed the room, and took a chair politely offered to her hy Mr. George Conder, and he devoted himself to her as the last new star. While he talked and did the agreeable, and she made answers sufficient to keep up the comTersation, her eye con stantly sought and rested on the face and features of Constance Raymond, seen in profile only, howcA'er, as she sat, tinning towards Dr. Conder while he spoke.

She Avas not aware of being watched ; at length she looked round, and, for the first time, saw Mrs. Bland's face. It was a striking one, and evidently somewhat different from what Constance had expected. The fair hair Avould have seemed to indicate a softer style of beauty ; but she, too, was almost startled at those large dark eyes, AArhich seemed as if they would pierce her through and through ; and Constance's first impression was not altogether an agreeable one. She fancied now how Avell suited those wild deep tones were to such a face ; but she did not care to "look long and Avell" on that countenance — there was an undefined expression about the mouth which was repellent to her. The face altogether came back to her many times that night when she closed her eyes ere she slept. Mrs. Conder just then came up to ask Con stance if she would be so good as to call Matilda to come to her.