Carstone Rectory. A story

Chapter I

" I would I knew his mind." Two Gentlemen of Verona. It would be difficult to find a man more easy and comfortable in every way than the Rev. James Cavendish Bromley, Rector of Carstone, Somerset. Life had been to him as a smooth, well. made, even road, along which he had been calmly and quietly driven. He had passed VOL. I. through his school and college trials easily — if •without distinction, certainly without dis credit. Just at the proper age he had taken orders, and early in life had been presented to Carstone — a living worth eight hundred a year, with a very good parsonage, in excellent repair, and a population too small to over work the bodily or mental energies of its pastor. At the time our story commences Mr Bromley had been Rector of Carstone for upwards of thirty years. Whether the placid course of his existence had ever been disturbed by a storm of disappointed affection no one could tell; so that those who like to find a reason for everything could give none to account for the fact of a man remaining a bachelor, who had so long enjoyed circum stances which would enable him to marry.

A bachelor, however, Mr Bromley continued, and an extremely contented one, to all appearance, he certainly was ; judging from his sleek, fat car riage horses, his conservatory, well-kept garden, and well-served table, it would be supposed that he spends upon himself the income of his living — as well as of certain stock which re port gives him in the funds. This he thinks he has a right to do, for in action and in feel ing he is an egotist, though by far too well bred to appear one in conversation. In all matters of worldly prudence he has a good clear judgment, and to those who seek his advice he gives it in a satisfactory, judicious manner ; but his opinions, though plainly stated, are never urged upon any one. Mr Bromley is a tall, well-made man, of a portly appearance, with a remarkably good complexion ; hands and feet that look very small for his size, and hair of a delicate brown, fine, and rather scanty, but showing few marks of age.

People who take life as easily as he does generally wear well, and that he does so would be the opinion of any one who could take a view of him, as we fancy we now do, seated in the most comfortable of easy chairs j sipping his fine old port, after a dinner that would have satisfied an epicure. Opposite to him sat his sister, the widow of Captain Lonsdale of the East India Com pany's Service ; a person very different from himself, for as he was generally contented with everything, she had a propensity for finding out the disadvantages of every circum stance, and was rarely known to be without some reason for anxiety, real or imaginary. She was a woman of a fine, stately figure, though rather too spare, and would have been handsome were it not that her features were too angular. She had a habit of compressing her lips, as if her trouble for the time were occupying her attention.

She was doing this now very much, and her brother appeared to be aware of it, by the rather mischievous twinkle of his clear blue eye, as he sat gazing at the rich colour which the rays of the setting sun gave to the wine in his full glass. He did not, however, appear inclined to be the first to speak, but continued in the pleasant reverie which his easy chair, his wine, and his complete freedom from everything troublesome, produced. A still greater compression of the mouth, and then Mrs Lonsdale spoke. " James, I have been uneasy for some time past ; only I thought it best to keep my feelings to myself." " It is often the wisest course to pur sue," said Mr Bromley, quietly sipping his wine. " But, James, there are many cases when the opinion of another person may be a com fort and a guide to one."

" Unquestionably." " Well now, do tell me what you really do think." " What I really do think, Louisa ? the question is much too comprehensive : I shall be happy to let you have my thoughts upon any given subject." " If you at all enter into a mother's feelings you must know what I mean," said Mrs Lons dale, in a tone of some vexation. " I assure you I do not understand you," returned Mr Bromley, blandly. " But let me give you another glass of this wine, which I can honestly recommend, and then you shall, if you please, explain all about it." " Why, James—" " Excuse me for one moment, and I will be all attention," and Mr Bromley rose, walked to the window, and drew down the blind an inch or two, to cover the too bright ball of the sun, then returned to his chair, which he moved a little so as to be more directly in front of his companion, drew a footstool towards him, upon which, with a complacent look, he placed his well-shaped foot, poured out another glass of wine, brought an elegant basket full of fancy biscuits within more convenient reach, and then appeared quite prepared to hear anything.

" I wish I could only make out what he means," exclaimed Mrs Lonsdale, as if winding up the anxious thoughts that had been passing through her mind while her brother had been employed in making himself more comfortable. " Why, really, if the person to whom you allude explains himself as little as you do, I am not astonished at your feeling puzzled." " Now you know who I mean ; who but Henry Mordaunt could give me a moment's anxiety in this secluded place ? I ought not to have much reasonable doubt, to be sure, but still I should be more satisfied if I could be certain which of the girls he really does admire." " I think, then, that he admires them both, though in a different way." " But nothing could be more unsatisfactory than that. He must be seriously thinking of one of them, — at least," after a slight pause, " he ought to be ashamed of himself if he is not."

Mr Bromley assumed a more serious air, as if a topic more worthy of his attention than he had anticipated had been brought before him. " I thought," he said, after they had both been silent for a little while, " that women were seldom mistaken on such a point as this. Do you really think that Mr Mordaunt has serious intentions, and, so thinking, are you at a loss as to their object ? " " Yes, James, such is the case ; though I confess that it must seem to you rather ridicu lous for me to fancy that a man, with such a lovely creature as Elora constantly before his eyes, could spare a thought for any other girl. Why, Eleanor is not to be named in the same day witn her." " Then, it appears, you have settled the question," returned Mr Bromley, with the same twinkle again in his eye. " Mordaunt, you say, is seriously thinking of Flora'; I heartily con gratulate you, for I don 't know a young man more desirable in every way."

" Now, James, you know very well that I have not said anything of the sort," said the lady impatiently, " and it is impossible that I could say so, for he is so shilly-shallying, so look ing at one and so consulting the other, that I defy anybody to make him out." " Suppose you don't try, but let the matter go on of itself, and unravel itself. It is the best course in these cases." " That shows that you don't enter into a mother's feelings at all. If I let it alone, won't that artful Eleanor, with her sense, of which I must say I think she makes a little parade, — and her interest in parish affairs, which, depend upon it, she would not show if Henry Mordaunt were old and ugly,- — won't she win him over to think her superior to my girl with all her beauty and sweet temper and — " "Excuse me for interrupting you; I don't quite agree with some of the assertions you have just made ; though I will not trouble you with my objections ; still, Louisa, I must keep to the opinion that you had much better let the young people alone ; Mordaunt is old enough, and, I presume, sensible enough, to judge for himself, and, depend upon it, he will do so.

Believe me, you should at once give up attempt ing to sway or lead a man where his af fections are concerned. Remember what Moliere says — " Je sais que sur les vœux on n'a point de puissance Que 1' amour veut partout naitre sans — " " I don't care what Moliere says." " There you are wrong ; Moliere is a judge of ' la belle passion — scarcely inferior to our own Shakespeare." " I don't want either Shakespeare's opinion or Moliere's ; I want yours." " But do you not suppose that our means of forming correct opinions become strengthened by our consulting the best judges of human nature who have gone before us ? " " Yes, yes, I dare say they do. But now do tell me, from what you have observed, which do you think has really taken Henrv Mordaunt's fancy ? " " Y\ hy, truly, he appears to me at present ' The swan's down feather — That stands upon the swell at full of tide, And neither way inclines.' " Mrs Lonsdale gave a little movement of impatience, which she was often tempted to do when her brother indulged in his love of quotations, which, whether apt or not, were invariably thrown away upon her.

" But to be quite candid with you, Louisa, I felt almost certain, last Christmas, that he was becoming attached to Eleanor." " To El— e— a— nor ! ! !— " " To Eleanor ; and I really was very glad of it, for it would be an excellent thing for her — a girl without a fortune, and depend ing upon an aunt with whom I for one certainly could not five, let the alternative be what it might ; a home of her own would be an excellent thing for her, and I looked forward to a great deal of gratitude from old Mrs Grant for the introduction. I really don't know a young man more to my taste than Mordaunt — a gentlemanly fellow with no vulgarity of any kind about him ; I felt quite proud of introducing him to the Bishop when he lunched here last week. Mordaunt comes of a good stock too. A man with a grandfather, ay, and a great grandfather and — " " Eor goodness sake, James, don't go on so about him ; what, in the name of pity, makes you think that he is attached to that Eleanor?

I am sure, if he does marry her, she will have inveigled him into it ; she has a kind of sly way with her, which I always detested from a child." " Softly, Louisa ; Mordaunt is no fool to be inveigled into what he does not intend. If he proposes to your daughter, or to poor little Nelly" (here Mr Bromley's voice softened a little), " it will be from decided affection." " Why do you say 'if?' " said Mrs Lons dale querulously, "when you said just now that Henry Mordaunt is attached to little Nelly," (here her voice was as bitter as it could be,) " as you call her." " Perhaps it is to be regretted," said Mr Bromley softly, and helping himself to a biscuit, " that your charming sex do not learn a little logic — just a little — merely to save themselves from the pain of false in ferences. I said I had thought Mordaunt would be attached (poor fellow, how we are dis secting him, to be sure).

I did not say that he is." "WeU then, James," said Mrs Lonsdale, mollified, " I should be so much obliged to you if you would tell me clearly what you do think of the matter, now ; for, I assure you, I have scarcely closed my eyes for the last two nights. I woidd not have my sweet child's affections trifled with for the whole world." . " It is a great mistake to be anxious about anything," said Mr Bromley. " Let things take their course ; over-anxiety often makes us act as irrationally as the children we . smile to see taking up the things they have planted to find out if they are growing." At this moment the sound of gay voices was heard from the shrubbery in front of the dining-room, followed by a joyous laugh. " There go the subjects of our discourse," said Mr Bromley ; " suppose I constitute my self a corps of observation, and go to the window and try to discover anything which may help to solve our doubts," and he smiling ly rose and went to the open window ; Mrs Lonsdale remained gloomily in her place — a gentle, amused laugh from her brother made her turn her head and look a question, though she would not speak it.

" Worse and worse," exclaimed Mr Bromley. " He has gathered two sprigs of myrtle and given one to Flora and the other to Eleanor. I must give up the matter now as hopelessly dubious, unless I could be near enoug-h to count the leaves, as the majority might possibly imply something." " You really are too bad to jest upon such a subject," said Mrs Lonsdale in a tone of annoyance, for she had not by any means recovered from the effect of her brother's observation about Mr Mordaunt and Eleanor at Christmas. "There is one comfort, how ever," she continued, after a pause, during which she had sat with knitted brows ; " Eleanor must go back to Bath shortly, and then she cannot stand in my girl's way." " You forget that Eleanor is a much older acquaintance of Mordaunt's than Flora, and therefore cannot reasonably be said to have come in her way."

This remark being unanswerable, Mrs Lons dale did not answer it, but, after feeling in the pocket of her dress and producing a jingling sound of keys, she said something about making tea, and rose to break up a conference which had proved so much less satisfactory than she had hoped; she regarded her bro ther's opinion something in the light of an oracle, and she had anticipated that it would confirm her own, which was that Mr Mor daunt was very much captivated by her pretty Flora, and that if ever he had thought of Eleanor at all he certainly had no thoughts to spare for her now. " Men are so deceiving, you never can understand them till they quite declare themselves," was her uncomfortable thought between the dining-table and the door. " If quite convenient to you," said Mr Bromley, very politely, " we will have tea a quarter of an hour later than usual, for I ex pect the clerk, who is always punctual, in five minutes, and I must have a little conversation with him.

Do not forget, to-night, if you please, to add a little, mind a very little, of the orange-peko, it improves the flavour of the tea. The Bishop told me that he always has a very small black-currant leaf put into the pot ; I have not yet tried that, but we can do so to-morrow at breakfast, perhaps, if you can remember it." In no very amiable frame of mind Mrs Lons dale listened to this direction, and then pro ceeded to the drawing-room to await the arrival of Mr Mordaunt and the girls, who had left their dessert early to take a walk to a neighbouring farm house. She took up the Times, trying to interest herself, but feeling restlessly anxious for an opportunity of resuming her post of observation. She had not been very long alone when the door was opened gently, and the subject of her anxious meditation entered.

Mr Mordaunt', the young Rector of Steyne, a parish adjoining Carstone, appeared certainly worthy of the value she set upon him. He was prepossess ing in person ; gentlemanly in manners ; bore a high character ; came of gentle lineage ; and, vol. i. a above all, in her eyes, was the incumbent of a very good living, and had funded property, besides ; just enough, as she prudently con sidered, to enable him to make a good settle ment upon her daughter ; in short, he was a man calculated to satisfy both prudence and romance, and this is what all will agree is not to be met with every day. The very anxious look of Mrs Lonsdale induced Mr Mordaunt to take the chair next to her, and to inquire very kindly if she were feeling unwell. " No, I thank you," she replied, with a little sigh, "lam as well as usual, only I am making myself a little uncomfortable, as foolish mothers are apt to do."

" Indeed ! and may I ask with what reason?" he exclaimed, with a degree of in terest which she did not fail to mark. " Why, reason or no reason, mothers are silly beings, sometimes; and though there may be nothing at all in it, I do not like Flora's looks lately, poor dear child ! " " Miss Lonsdale's looks ! — I assure you, had you seen her just now you would have thought Hebe herself not a more perfect picture of blooming health." "Ah, that is just what I mean. At one time her colour is so bright, and then it so quickly changes. I am sure I don't know, but I am afraid it may be a bad sign." ?J A shadow seemed to fall upon the young man's countenance ; and they were both silent, till the servant entered with the tea tray. Mrs Lonsdale watched the face of her companion, furtively, from behind the steaming urn ; and nothing could have been more satisfactory to her than its gloom.

" Where are those girls so long ? " she said at length. " I hope they will be down before their uncle comes in to tea, for he likes to see every one assembled. Bless me ! I had forgotten all about the orange peko," and she hastily threw a little into the tea-pot. "Did they come in as soon as you did, Mr Mordaimt ? " " Yes," said he, absently, " I believe they did." " Believe they did ■ are you not sure of it ? " " Yes, I am quite sure of it. Perhaps they are a little tired ; we walked home fast, fearing we should be late." " Had you a pleasant walk ? " " Yes, very pleasant indeed, and in the wood at the back of farmer Bailey's we heard a nightingale. I never heard one sing so sweetly before." " Veiy likely, because you have before mistaken thrashes for nightingales, which I very often do. I am always obliged to say to Flora, who has such a correct ear, 'Flora, my dear, is that a thrush, or a blackbird, or a nightingale, or a wood pigeon, or what is it ?' " At this moment a girl of slender, '. almost fragile, figure and quiet graceful movements glided noiselessly into the room.

She had heard Mrs Lonsdale's last speech — and there was a look of amusement, to which was added something of a naughty satirical ex pression, upon her countenance. This was Eleanor Stuart ; she had dark hair, very soft and silky — long, but not abundant, which had a certain elegant way of its own of being adjusted in the fashion, and yet a little departing from it, as if to suit the character of its owner; she had deep, dark* expressive eyes, and a pale complexion, re quiring animation of feeling to light it up. As to her claim to beauty, opinions very much varied. When in good health and spirits, some would pronounce her lovely, while others would declare that they saw nothing in her. Perhaps the chief impression she gave at first sight, and for ever afterwards, was that of great refinement — refinement of mind as well as of manners.

About her dress there was something rather too unstudied ; some eyes might have preferred a little more addition or ornament ; still, whatever she did wear was always in faultless taste. But we must not linger over her portrait, for one has just followed her into the room who looks as if she deserved a speedy notice. Flora Lonsdale was a fair, fresh young beauty, with the bright tints of health added to the glow of early bloom ; she had a complexion of clear and dazzling fairness, eyes of blue, and an abundant mass of sunny hair of the golden tint so rarely seen. She wore a dress of a light material, with a white ground and small green flowers, with ribbons to match in every part where there was an excuse for their appearing, and she was adorned with all the little additions supposed to show natural charms to the best advantage.

Many might suppose at the first sight of these two girls, that Mrs Lonsdale could have no doubt as to the destination of the heart of Henry Mordaunt. Perhaps she had but little herself as she watched the approach of her fair young daughter, and marked the gentle care with which he gave her a seat by his side. She looked up at Eleanor, as if to watch its effect upon her also. "As the tea is quite ready," said Eleanor, "had I not better fetch Uncle James? I know Weston tires him sometimes, and that will be a hint for him to go." "As you like," said Mrs Lonsdale; "you ought to know by this time whether your uncle does or does not like to be disturbed when talking about parish business." " I will take the consequence upon my self," said Eleanor, smiling, and she left the room. Mr Mordaunt turned to Flora, and said : — " What always appears so agreeable in your cousin's disposition is, that even in trifles she thinks so much of others."

" Yes," replied Flora, looking down and playing with her sprig of myrtle. The anxious look returned to Mrs Lonsdale's mouth ; poor lady, her mind was like a floating bit of thistledown upon a breezy day, now wafted high in the air, and now blown down to the ground. " Unselfishness is the most charming of virtues," continued the unconscious Mr Mor daunt. " Yes," said Flora, " it certainly is ; I quite agree with you." " Why," broke in Mrs Lonsdale, with a little twitching sort of smile, " I don't quite see the very great virtue of a girl merely walking from one room to another to announce that tea is ready." "There is nothing in that, taken alone, I admit, but one little trait often draws the at tention to stores of good, as the one little violet in the hedge-row tells us that spring is coming."

" Upon my word, you have been listening to nightingales to some purpose," said Mrs Lonsdale, with the same uneasy smile. " They have taught you to bring a great deal out of nothing." "But, mamma," said Flora, " Mr Mordaunt is right ; Eleanor does think a great deal about other people, and their concerns ; I remember how unhappy she was when we heard that unexpected news that Captain Hatherley was engaged to Miss Markham ; she had a great many doubts indeed about their happiness. " My dear," exclaimed Mrs Lonsdale, pre tending to frown, "you must not bring for ward such instances as that of a young lady's unselfishness. But she meant no harm, poor innocent pet ; she is truth and nature itself," and she glanced at Mr Mordaunt, and then leaned towards her darling, and gave her an affectionate kiss.

Mr Mordaunt looked a little startled at the last observation of Flora, and then he became silent and thoughtful, which was a habit with him when anything struck him either pleasantly or the reverse ; a little silence fell upon the party, but it was not of long continuance, for the sound of voices was heard along the rather long passage which led from the dining-room to the drawing-room, like the tones of those who agree well together, for a difference is perceptible even when no words are distinguishable. Mr Bromley [and his niece entered, the latter bearing in her arms a very antiquated cat of an unusual size, a creature unpopular with the establishment generally, and not a favourite of Mr Bromley's, who looked upon pets as things causing trouble, and therefore to be eschewed. Poor old puss, by name Cato, was with him only upon suffer ance ; because an old friend, who left England some years ago, had begged him to take charge of it.

Eleanor had taken Cato under her pro tection, because from a child she had always been particularly tender to anything that was neglected. To be unloved was, to her childish mind, the saddest of all sad things, and we suppose that the feeling must have grown up with her. " Come, James," said Mrs Lonsdale, " you have been so long in coming, that I am afraid you will not have the tea in its best flavour ; it has been standing rather too long." " Never mind," replied the complacently smiling gentleman addressed, " anything that you make, my dear Louisa, cannot fail to be delightful. Thank you, my dear," to Eleanor, as she wheeled his easy chair round to the exact position in which he liked it to be. His cup of fragrant tea was handed to him, and he soon made himself as comfortable as he had been over his wine.

" What do you mean to do about breakfast to-morrow? " asked his sister, " must we have it at half-past eight ? " " No, nothing of the sort ; I have got Wat son to persuade the young man to defer his wedding till half-past ten ; who ever heard of such an hour as half-past nine for a wedding, just as one begins to think of sitting down to breakfast ? These people really do n't seem to take one's comfort into consideration at all ; Watson is a very good fellow, and has talked them into a good humour about it, for, of course, it does not do to appear ungracious on such occasions." " Neither does it do," said Mrs Lonsdale, " to be made uncomfortable for a whole day, which I know it always makes me, to have breakfast before my usual time." " Why did you take any trouble at all about it, sir ? " exclaimed Mr Mordaunt, energetically.

" Why, if you had said half a word to me, I would have come and married them, poor creatures, at any hour of the day or night they liked to mention." " And have brought down upon yourself that mysteriously dreadful thing, a faculty, in consequence," said Eleanor. " How you bring down the flight of one's impulses, Miss Stuart ; I advise you to take a farm yard, you would so much enjoy clipping the wings of the poor poultry." " How can you be so matter-of-fact," said Mrs Lonsdale, reprovingly, "when you know that nobody could be more exemplary than Mr Mordaunt in his parish, and nobody could understand better about canonical hours, and all that, than he does ? " " Little Nelly turned matter-of-fact! that is really too shocking," said Mr Bromley, laughing in a sort of manner which Mrs Lonsdale did not quite like.

But a great event soon turned her attention from everything else. The well-tutored little page entered, bearing two notes upon a beautifully polished salver. Two notes ! all eyes were turned upon them with an interest of which only those who are acquainted with a dull country neighbourhood can have any conception. There the sight of a note, with the exciting addition of "waiting for an answer," possesses a charm which the gay inhabitant of a town, wearied with the sight of such things, and sick of en gagements, will be at a loss to understand. One note was for Mr Bromley, and the other for Mrs Lonsdale. The latter immediately ex claimed, — " Listen here, girls ! here is a treat in store — a dinner party at Sir Thomas Head ington's for Tuesday, got up in haste to wel come his son, who is just come home from the Cape."

" Dear me," said Mr Mordaunt, " that is the very day we fixed with old Mrs Grey to have whey and curds and tea at her house." " But surely you don't call that an engage ment ? " exclaimed Mrs Lonsdale ; " can't you drink tea with that old woman any night you choose ? when such a thing as a dinner party at Sir Thomas Headington's does not take place every day in the year, I can assure you." " But we must not keep the messenger waiting. Dear me, where is my writing case? Oh, on that little table. Thank you, Mr Mordaunt. Bless me, what pens ! I never did see such things." " Allow me to mend one for you." " Thank you, you are very kind, — as quick as you can, if you please, for I cannot bear to keep a servant waiting." " Nelly," said Mr Bromley, lazily stretching out his hand to give her his note, without rising, " go into the study, my dear, if you please, and on the table near the window you will find a pen with a very broad nib.