A Dish of Matrimony

Front matter

MADAME ARMAND CAUMONT, AUTHOR OF ' THE HANLEYS,' ETC. ' We'll be birds of a seatber, I'll be King of the Queen of the wrens, And all in a nest together.' Tennyson. LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 1894. CONTENTS. CHAPTER [-AGE I. FRANK FERBER'S WEDDING - - - - I II. A RUNAWAY COUPLE - - - - -13 III. 58, BLANKENBERG GARDENS - - - 26 IV. ROGER HAWLISS, ESQ. - ... 34 V. OLAVE AT HOME - - - - - - 47 VI. THE ZAGOS' CONCERT - - - - - 53 VII. FRED CARLINGBY'S GRIEVANCES - - - - 6l VIII. 'WHAT IS THY DUTY TOWARDS THY NEIGHBOUR?' - 70 IX. A NEW ARRIVAL AND A NEW DEPARTURE - - 78 X. OLAVE'S DRAWING-ROOM AND NURSERY - - 87 XI. SATSUMA LODGE - - - - - - 94 XII. TEA AND TOAST ------ 107 XIII. THE FIRST FAMILY JAR - - - - - Il6 XIV. THE NEW M.P. - - - - - - 1 24 XV. THE ROYAL ARMS ------ 148 XVI.

THE LITTLE DEANS HOUSE - - - 153 XVII. BREAKERS AHEAD - - - - - 1 59 XVIII. MR. FRANCIS - - - - - - 171 XIX. THE POOR RELATION'S GOOD LUCK - - - 179 XX. FRANK FERBER'S FIRST OUTING - - - - 188 XXI. WOMAN'S DELIGHT - - - - - 199 XXII. THE CHRISTMAS SUPPLEMENT - 210 XXIII. A TURQUOISE BRACELET ----- 219 XXIV. SOMETHING QUITE OUT OF THE COMMON - - 225 XXV. THE DAY THE BABY WAS ' CAPSIZED ' - - -

Prologue

. Ladies and gentlemen, the tale about to be related in these pages concerns married people only. For such it is written ; to encourage them to bear their own and one another's burdens, and for their amusement and consolation after the everyday hundred little worries of a wedded exist ence. For the unmarried it is quite unsuitable, perhaps even pernicious. Who knows to what cynical reflections the perusal of it might lead in the mind of some predestined old bachelor, or what an amount of envy and discontent be developed in the breast of some precocious little school damsel ? Young ladies and young gentlemen, drop the book like a hot dish that has been in the oven too long, and might burn your little palates. Never you mind what be came of Mr. Frank and Mrs. Nellie. The less you hear about them, and especially some of the people they knew, the better. As for you, married folk, old and young, it can do you no further harm.

Chapter I

frank ferber's wedding. ' Light, so low upon earth, You send a flash to the sun. Here is the golden close of lo\e, All my wooing is done.' Tennyson. It was a dismal Friday morning about the beginning of November ; the sky was of a leaden colour ; rain mingled with sleet descended in torrents, and formed pools on the pavement of the little town of Wincham. On the market-square stood the old parish church with one door open, and around the porch a small crowd of street-urchins and errand-boys and little girls with babies in their arms. The motley group alternately peeped into the church and stared at a couple of carriages, whose horses and drivers wore wedding-favours, at the same time keeping up a continuous cross-fire of third-rate repartee. Inside the quaint old edifice the marriage-service was being pronounced by a pale-faced, dark-eyed curate, in the presence of a small bridal party, and a slender congregation consisting of some eight or ten persons in the gallery.

Nobody ever yet heard of a wedding, however small, escaping scot-free from the critical observations of the spec tators, however limited in number; and so this time there were enough to remark that Mrs. Challenger, the bride's mother, was present, when her place properly, and according to the good old Wincham custom, was at home, and that Frank Ferber was attired in black, whilst his best man wore gray and lavender. It was quite a pretty wedding in spite of all such com ments. Ellen Challenger looked bonnie and bright with her golden, rippling hair, and the purity and innocence in her face suited well with the snowy spotlessness of her robe. Her father and mother stood close beside her, clinging to the last to their only child, from whom they were henceforth to be severed, not only by circumstances, but by many leagues of land and knots of sailing.

As for Frank, his raiment might be sable in hue, but, like the negro's, ' his heart was very white ' on the morning his chosen one was secured to him. A few weeks previously Frank had run down from London, as he said to himself, ' in the nick of time,' to take leave of Mr. and Mrs. Challenger — and Ellen, and to con dole with them about their money losses. He had intended seeing them away on board the sailing-vessel in the Mersey, bound for Sydney. He had agreed with them that it was the wisest plan left, as Mrs. Challenger possessed relations in South Australia. He even accompanied Mr. Challenger one day to Liverpool, and saw their three names entered in a big ledger in the ship's company's office — Mr. Challenger, Mrs. Challenger, and Ellen ; and whilst the ink that formed ' her ' name was still damp on the page, Frank observed a great, coarse, leer-eyed man about his own age push forward and insert his name under Ellen's. Then a sudden un definable twinge of pain clutched Frank's heart.

He was glad to breathe the atmosphere outside the booking-office, to take Mr. Challenger's arm, and stroll off on a tour of in spection at the docks close at hand. They discovered the vessel, saw the berths, stepped the decks, the elder man trying to make himself feel at home beforehand as much as possible. But Frank Ferber's eye beheld nought but a vision of the vulgar-faced fellow-passenger following Ellen along these very planks, sitting close beside her, ogling her cunningly, addressing her with impertinent familiarity ; whereupon his own face shone pale and agitated beside Mr. Challenger's, his breath came and went rapidly, his large brown eyes grew dilated, and cold beads of perspiration broke out upon his brow. Frank Ferber's oivn name might still be entered in the book below that of the hideous stranger bound for Sydney.

But no, that was impossible. One thing only was certain : she, Ellen, was not away yet. There still remained a respite. Mr. Challenger observed the sudden alteration which had come over his young friend, but carefully refrained from mentioning it at home. In the meantime, Mrs. Challenger, busy with her packing and arranging, had suddenly discovered her Ellen in an attic, weeping bitterly whilst plying her needle and thread like some little automaton at an Exhibition. ' Why, dear, are you so sorry, after all, to leave old Wincham ?' ' Not so much Wincham, perhaps, as the people.' ' Ah ! our neighbours — Miss Susan and Miss Martha ? But they are removing to London, any way.' ' It's not the Miss Berrils exactly,' sobbed the girl. 'Ah! then there is Olave Hawliss? Yes, you and Olave were always great friends, child ; almost too great, I feared sometimes.' ' Mother dearest, I don't know exactly what it is, only I don't feel so brave as you and father these days.

Indeed, I wish I could !' ' Yet you were the courageous one all through our trouble,' said the mother thoughtfully and as if to herself, and the subject dropped. These events took place about four weeks before Frank Ferber's wedding-day. The image of that disagreeable man bound for Sydney had probably hastened matters on to a crisis, for, ere another day had dawned, Frank and Ellen were engaged to one another, and Mr. and Mrs. Challenger were persuaded, not only to give their sanction, but to wait in Wincham for the marriage, and take leave of their child in the old home on the threshold of her new life. We do not intend to relate more than is absolutely neces sary in this little volume, as the public, and especially the reviewers, have so little time for superfluous reading; we may be excused, therefore, tearing down to Liverpool by the express to see Mr. and Mrs. Challenger off, and risk the chances of another encounter with the Sydney man.

We might mention, of course, something of Ellen's substitute, the runaway schoolboy, who turned up at the last moment — that is to say, as an answer to about sixteen advertisements inserted by Frank in as many provincial and local newspapers — but where's the use? Frank didn't boast to Ellen about the exceeding worry that little episode occasioned him ; his devotion would have impelled him to do as much again had it been necessary. The runaway schoolboy be came the recipient of motherly attentions from Mrs. Challenger the whole way out to Sydney, and is this day flourishing on a sheep-run near Brisbane. As for Frank and Ellen, they were to remain together from this time forward ' for better, for worse,' to ' love, honour, and obey ' one another — in other words, ' to live happy ever after.' The pale-faced curate recited the service in his usual refined, gentle accents, but with a perceptible shade of weary melancholy in his tone.

At the end he ventured on a short, well-worded address to the young couple, and for the first time raised his eyes and gazed on Ellen ; and then, for one instant, as if to compare her face with that of another, his eye glanced up to the organ-loft, where, bent slightly forward over the rail, might have been observed a young woman's head and shoulders. Her plain black veil was raised, and her hat, pushed back from her forehead, showed to advantage a profile of remark able loveliness. As beautiful as St. Cecilia in Carlo Dolce's well-known picture, and a hundred times more bewitching, on account of her graceful gestures and the sweet melodious ness of her voice, which, whilst talking or singing, rang like a merry bell, was Olave Hawliss, Ellen's old school chum. Olave went to see most of the marriages which took place in Wincham, and thus had gained the sobriquet of the ' Wed ding Belle.' With her fascinating smile, she used to say, ' I go to see if there is one among them all as nice-looking as myself.' But this time there were stealthy tears unbidden in Olave's eyes ; as she gazed down she realized that a bit of her better self was leaving her, and she shuddered at the blank Ellen's absence would presently make.

And Olave Hawliss lingered till everyone had left the gallery, and the organist had locked up the old instrument on which he had been maltreating Mendelssohn's 'Wedding March.' And then she gently wiped her eyes, readjusted her hat and veil, and glided noiselessly, but swiftly, downstairs, and into the vestryroom behind the chancel, where the witnesses were signing their names. The Rev. Ernest Aveling was looking on in his white surplice, and pointing with his slender finger to the blank spaces to be filled in ; but the instant Olave approached, a slight flush spread over his countenance, and his manner became embarrassed. She took no notice of him, but straightway flung her arms round the bride, and clasped her in a long, tight embrace. ' O my Nellie, my guardian angel ! Poor little Wincham will grow wicked when you are gone.

Everything must go to the bad without the Challengers !' ' Nay, not so dreadful, Olave,' said the newly-made bride with an arch look at her old schoolfellow. ' Mr. Aveling will see after Wincham.' The curate blushed violently, whilst Olave coloured slightly, then suddenly bent down, and, drawing a long breath, smelt the fragrant nosegay Ellen held in her fingers. The bridal party quitted the church, and Olave Hawliss left, without having once exchanged a glance or a word with Ernest Aveling. Nevertheless, on the afternoon of the day of Frank Ferber's wedding — say about half-past four o'clock — and ere the fast-gathering twilight deepened into night, a young couple might have been discerned promenading slowly arm in-arm along the tow-path of the canal two miles above Wincham. Strangers would have designated them as lovers ; Wincham folk would have said ' it was only Miss 'Awliss and Mr. Haveling.' ' Olave,' said Ernest, with an imploring intonation, ' think of the two who were united this morning !

You saw his face, how happy he was, and how confident ? And hers, Olave, it must have struck you — that whole-hearted, honest truthfulness in hers ! She must love Frank Ferber very dearly, to wait behind with him, when her family are starting for the antipodes !' ' Yes, Nellie's a brave little soul. At school we used to call her a brick, for she was always to be depended upon ! They said ' ' Oh, Olave, that's exactly what I wish to express. Promise that you will be to me what Ellen is to Frank ! Say I may trust you !' ' There, there ! you'll make me presently jealous of Nellie Challenger ! And if you intend to preach to me, Ernie darling, I shall jump into the canal ! I suppose we shall come in for quite enough of that by-and by ? And, besides, you haven't listened to father yet. He can hurl homilies by the hour at my poor head once he begins.' ' Oh hush, Olave !

Let me, then, only tell you how much I love you, and say that you will remain faithful to me ! You are so sweetly lovely, my Olave, and so winning, with your foolish little feminine ways, that a man's heart has no chance beside you ! There is a witchery in your very wantonness, Olave. So take care, darling, how you treat a fellow ! It might be awful, you know, if a man meant everything, and you meant nothing — only a joke ! That would be a very poor sort of joke, Olave, to me, Ernest Aveling.' ' I wish your name wasn't just Ernest,' said the girl, pouting. ' Perhaps we'll change it, however, some day, to Pat or Taffy ?' 'Anything you like, only don't play "fast and loose" with one who would die for you, Olave — one who can never have an earthly love, except yours. Do you realize what that means, my treasure ?' ' Oh yes, well enough !

And, of course, I do love you, Ernie man ! There's a good man ! How should I be here if I didn't ?' Then they sauntered on in silence, following the course of the canal, and pausing to watch a barge go through the locks, and glide on down the dark waters below the weir. Young Aveling's face was radiant, the last doubt seemed cleared from his grave, intellectual brow ; and he held his figure erect and proud, whilst one arm had found its way, with a gesture of protecting ownership, round Olave's shapely shoulders. At the entrance of the town, the two simply shook hands, and went their different ways. Roger Hawliss had the reputation of being the best veterinary surgeon in the County. He was, moreover, distinguished by a certain sanctity of manner, which, as a widower, sat on him better than on most people.

In business dealings he was known as hard and exacting, very few people ever attempting to get the better of him in a bargain. He was feared and disliked by his inferiors and dependents; yet, on the other hand, he was openly courted, and adored by all the elderly ladies of Wincham. For we must bear in mind that Olave's father was one of the great men of little Wincham ; that his name headed the subscription-lists of the local charities, and that no temperance meeting or Con gregational soiree was quite complete without the imposing presence of Roger Hawliss, his tall figure and curly steel gray locks and clean-shaven, pointed chin, to grace the plat form. On such occasions his speeches were sure to be pithy and pathetic ; just as in his frequent visits to his neighbours his conversation was wont to assume an edifying and senti mental character.

Some folk declared Mr. Hawliss did them more good than the minister when he came ; but in most families where there were youngsters, it might have been observed how very swiftly the latter scurried out of sight the moment the good man's well-known rap was audible at the front-door. And the little ones generally would eye their parents and guardians askance for several hours after the visitor's departure. As far as his daughter Olave was concerned, Mr. Hawliss had discovered years ago that his pathos was wasted on her. Even the trick of making her walk by his side when she had outgrown her school-frocks, and hold on by his hand like a baby, in order to pose before the eyes of Wincham as " my poor motherless girl," had failed ; for Olave always managed, somehow, to slip through the parental fingers in public.

Mr. Hawliss's only alternative, therefore, was to bully and storm at home, and threaten all kinds of desola tion, which, indeed, he did upon the slightest provoca tion. The old Scotch cook, who sometimes heard her master's grand speechifying on the platform, declared 'he was an angel outside, but the verra deevil in his ain hoose !' On the day of Frank Ferber's wedding, Olave was late getting home for her father's six o'clock dinner. He had been in the dining-room, and, not finding her, had gone out again ; and finally it was seven when the two sat down to an overdone leg of mutton. ' Where have you been, madam, all this afternoon ? I have a right to demand an explanation, and to know how long this reprehensible state of affairs is to continue ? You haven't been to the Challengers' to-day, at any rate ?

They couldn't well expect you on a day like this. Nor would it have been seemly to have paid a visit there ?' he continued, eyeing her interrogatively. ' Oh, but I was at the church, and saw the wedding, and spoke to Ellen in the vestry-room,' said Olave in a low voice, and changing colour slightly. ' The vestry-room, ah ! Well, miss, that is where you are never to go again ! Do you hear ?' cried her father, raising his voice to an angry pitch. ' Not as long as young Aveling is there. Do you understand ? I desire no interesting young clergymen dancing attendance on me or my daughter ! Do you comprehend me, girl ?' ' I went into the vestry, and came out of the vestry, with out speaking to Mr. Aveling, or he to me. I spoke to no body there, except to Ellen and her mother.' Olave said this slowly and deliberately without raising her eyes ; and, having delivered herself of this statement, applied herself to her pudding, and finished the same with a business-like alacrity which indicated that she was not to be worried any further about the day's proceedings.

Five minutes later a strong masculine voice was heard in the corridor ; and the servant-maid came in with the announcement that it was only ' Mr. Carlingby, as wishes to speak with master. Says as summat be wrong with the new gray 'oss, and Mr. 'Awliss oughter know.' ' Hand him in, then,' cried the master, pushing his chair back from the dining-table. 'What I suspected has happened, I dare say. Well, Fred, what's all this ?' Mr. Hawliss's upper underling, Fred Carlingby, eighth son of Charles Carlingby, proprietor of Little Deans, a handsome, rubicund young fellow with a physique like a moss-trooper's, stood on the hearthrug, and reported on a certain ' case,' which had grown worse inside the last couple of hours, and demanded immediate attention. Young Carlingby was one of the many veterinary aspirants who studied under the guidance of Mr. Hawliss.

His relations paid a handsome fee to secure him that advantage; and it was hoped that some day soon he would be able to start as a practitioner on his own account in the neighbour ing county. ' It's no matter for procrastination,' pronounced Roger Hawliss. 'The prescription is in my other coat.' And he hastily quitted the room. The moment he could breathe at his ease, young Carlingby popped down astride one of the dining-room chairs, with his back to the fire, and began staring straight into Olave's face. The girl, from her place at the table, stared back, and then smiled. ' I say, Miss Hawliss, you know it's an awful while since you promised a fellow your photo ! Have you got one here somewhere, in any of the albums ?' ' Not one for you, Mr. Carlingby. They're all out of print already.' ' Then I must go to the shop and buy one.

Only that won't be your keeping your promise, you know ! Besides, you said either your photo or a kiss, for the philopœna I won that night at the Berrils'. So which is it to be ?' ' I said nothing of the kind !' cried Olave, her face be coming flushed, and her dark eyes sparkling like two pieces of jet. ' Oh, I shall have both yet !' retorted Fred, leaning over the back of the chair, and tilting it as he spoke, ' the first from the Miss Berrils, and the second from yourself. Won't that do ?' ' Mind, I don't have anything to say to you, if you permit the Miss Berrils to embrace you,' observed Olave, with a toss of her dainty little head. ' Ha ! Now, that's what I like,' cried Fred, pushing the chair aside, standing up, and from his ' six feet two ' sur veying this provoking combination of female loveliness so temptingly near him.

Had Mr. Hawliss entertained the faintest suspicion of the tone of the young people's conversation downstairs, he would have endeavoured to hasten his researches for the missing prescription on the first floor. But the fact was, he knew that Mr. Aveling was deeply in love with his daughter. He had been sharp enough to read that certainty long ago in the young clergyman's guileless physiognomy. He was aware, moreover, that Olave had been out with Ernest Aveling, as far as the Upper Locks, that very afternoon. A bricklayer, who heard it from a lighterman, was the informant. Down in the interior of his heart, or, rather, in the back parlour of his calculations, Roger Hawliss had nothing whatever against Ernest Aveling. He intended Olave to marry some day, but to marry somebody of his — not her — picking and choosing.

His future son-in-law must necessarily be a gentleman, in some profession, and Roger's predilections were for the Church. All the time, therefore, that Olave's father was upstairs, rummaging in his drawer for little bottles and plasters, and stowing them in the pocket of a coarse gray overcoat, his mind ran on what the brick layer had repeated ; and he even smiled at the clever white lie which had been uttered in his presence during dinner. Nevertheless, on crossing the hall a minute later, he fancied he overheard a sound not unlike that occasioned by the smacking of a kiss from the direction of the dining-room. Fred Carlingby heard his footstep, and came out; and Olave, in an easychair by the fire-side, sat on, in the same position, idly for an hour or two, a restless light flitting like an ignis fatuus about her mischievous little mouth, and underneath her long raven eyelashes.

Chapter II

A RL'NAWAY COUPLE. ' " O haste thee, haste !" the lady cries, " Though tempests round us gather, I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father." ' Campbell, The modest little dwelling which Frank Ferber had the good fortune to acquire for his bride was furnished inside three weeks with little more than the bare necessaries for starting housekeeping in a respectable middle-class style. The rest was to follow later on, and by degrees. Of course there were curtains and blinds to the windows, and carpets on the stairs, and in the chief rooms, and the usual number of chairs and tables ; a ' thermometer-barometer ' in the hall, and a hat-stand ; and half a dozen metal dish-covers along the kitchen wall, because Frank had been accustomed to see these things formerly in his mother's abode, and subse quently at his landlady's, and could not imagine any proper household without them.

But the ornamental element was wanting. Decorations there were none. Had Ellen espoused an anchorite of the most exclusive tendencies, she could scarcely have alighted into a more complete innocence of pictures and pier-glasses. For the first twenty-four hours she had the good sense to refrain from any observations or expressions of opinion anent the art of house-furnishing, reflecting how little she herself had been able to contribute in the way of fancy-work, or such pretty knick-knacks as most brides bring home. Poor little body ! she had stitched up to the last at her father and mother's outfit for Australia. Frank read her thoughts, however ; and the second even ing, as the two sat together over their supper, he began quite abruptly : ' Of course the place is not to your liking, my dear.

But it isn't finished yet. Don't imagine I had intended our interior always to present the very prosaic and primitive aspect it does just now.' ' Frank darling, I can't think how you have managed so much in the short time. And, at any rate, nobody can say we haven't had our regular meals so far. " All other graces will follow in their proper places !" ' said Ellen, smiling. ' Still, I, for one,' she added with a little sigh, ' will gladly welcome a picture or two for company, were it only some simple little woodcut.' ' My dear girl, we shall have our pictures all in good time,' assented Frank in an indulging tone, and gazing, as he spoke, now at the bare walls, now at his little wife at the head of the table. ' But what we hang up, Ellen, must be good in its way, something really artistic.

It need not be pretentious nor expensive ; but it must be worth look ing at. So, pray, don't propose photographs, nor poor oleographs, nor flaring chromo-lithographs, nor any such horrors.' ' It may be some months, then,' suggested Ellen, 'until we can hit upon the right thing; and in the meantime, I suppose, the walls must remain — just as they are ? But tell me, sir, when you are away at the office to-morrow, may I not nail up one sweet little fan-sachel, with such darling ribbons ? I have it in my box, and the two plush brackets for the corners. You remember them ; they used to be in our drawing-room in Wincham. . . .' ' Oh, spare me, spare me, Nellie ! Suspend them in the attic, if you like, or even in the second bedroom ; but if you have any regard for a person's feelings ' — fixing his eyes on the corners of the ceiling — ' don't introduce those brackets here !

I remember them rightly, and thought they were safely auctioned off, along with the rest of your father's furniture, which, between ourselves, love, did very nicely for a little hole like Wincham, but could scarcely be suitable for London. Oh no, Ellen ! And the same applies to everything else which we intend to buy. We shall purchase little at a time; but that little must be comfortable, and in good taste, and in keeping with the rest, as well as with our circumstances. I am referring now especially to the drawing-room, which is at present perfectly empty, and which we shall have to undertake seriously together. And when I say "comfortable " and " in good taste," I intend that we shall above all things avoid crowding a lot of sofas and lounges and wickerwork armchairs together, as if we were about to establish a " casuals' home," or an ambulance of some kind, after the pattern of the Miss Berrils' drawing room in W7incham.

No, we must consider the size and shape of the room, and have some regard for proportion, and harmony of tone and shade, in our selection.' Frank's eloquence, which might have swollen into a grandiloquent ' High Art ' harangue, now came to a sudden collapse, when he chanced to drop his eyes from the ceiling and discovered that his little woman was bathed in tears. ' My darling, my Nellie ! No — have I said anything to vex you ? My poor little wife, and you all alone here in big London, with nobody at all near you to care for you but your foolish Frank !' Then followed an instantaneous ' change of decoration,' as they say in the theatres, with Frank Ferber seated in an armchair, with both arms round Ellen, and her on his knee, he soothing and coaxing her all the while, and she weeping still, but with her pretty little head comfortably resting on his shoulder — a common phase of the old, old story ! ' Was it what I let drop about Wincham, dearie ?' 'Yes,' whispered Nellie, in an extinct voice, between two sobs. ' Don't speak that way of — darling — old — Wincham again, Frank.