The Ogilvies. A novel

Front matter

THE OGILVIES Ogilvies. THE BRIDESMAID. Page 177. THE OGILVIES A NOVEL BY THE AUTHOR OF 'JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN' WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. m'l. RALSTON ILanfcon MACMILLAN AND CO. Printed by R. & R, CUARK, Edinburgh. DEDICATION. Years ago I used to say, that, if I ever wrote a book, it should be dedicated to my mother. The possibility, then contemplated almost in jest, has now been fulfilled. The book is written : but all else is changed. I will keep my promise still. Let this, my first novel, which would have been a tribute of tenderest affection to the Living, become an offering to the ever-beloved memory of the Dead. 1849. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. The Bridesmaid Frontispiece. "Give me your Hands" Page 63 Old and Young 117 The Evening Party 216 At the Opera 302 Katharine and Paul THE OGILVIES.

Chapter I

She, like the hazel twig, Is straight and slender ; and as brown in hue As hazel nuts, and sweeter than their kernels. Shakspeare. " Katharine, Katharine — where is Katharine Ogilvie % " This call resounded from the entrance-hall of an old family mansion, in which, between the twilight and moonlight of a December evening, a group of young people were assembled. " Where is she 1 — why, staying to adorn herself, of course," said a " young lady," the type par excellence of that numerous class ; being pretty-faced, prettyspoken, and pretty-mannered. " Was there ever a girl of sixteen who did not spend two hours at the least in dressing for her first evening party 1 I know I did." " Very likely," muttered a rather fine-looking young man who stood at the door. " You do the same now, Bella. But Katharine is not one of your sort."

S The first speaker tossed her head. " That is a doubtful compliment. Pray, Mr. Hugh Ogilvie, is it meant for your cousin Katharine, or your cousin Bella 1" And Miss Isabella Worsley, shaking her multitudinous ringlets, looked up in B his face with what she doubtless thought a most bewitching air of espieglerie. But the young man was quite unmoved. He was appa rently a simple soul — Mr. Hugh Ogilvie — too simple for such fascinations. " I wish some of you children would go and fetch your cousin. Uncle and aunt are quite ready ; and Katharine knows her father will not endure to be kept waiting, even by herself." " It is all your fault, cousin Hugh," interposed one of the smaller fry which composed the Christmas family-party assembled at Summerwood Park. " I saw Katharine staying to tie up the flowers you sent her.

I told her how scarce they were, and how you rode over the country all this morning in search of them," continued the wicked, long tongued little imp of a boy, causing Hugh to turn very red and walk angrily away, — and consequently winning an approving glance from the elder sister of all the juvenile brood, Isabella Worsley. " Really, Hugh, what a blessing of a cousin you must be ! " observed the latter, following him to the foot of the stair case, where he stood restlessly beating his heel upon tlie stone steps. " One quite envies Katharine in having you so constantly at Summerwood. Why, it is better for her than possessing half-a-dozen brothers, isn't it, now 1 And I dare say you find her worth a dozen of your sister Eleanor." Hugh made no audible answer, except beginning a long low whistle — sportsman-fashion.

" I declare, he is calling for Katharine as he does for Juno — how very flattering!" cried Isabella, laughing. "Really, Hugh, this sort of behaviour does not at all match with that elegant evening costume, which, by-the-by, I have not yet sufficiently admired." " I wish heartily I were out of it," muttered Hugh. " I had rather a great deal put on my shooting-jacket and go after wild ducks than start for this dull party at Mrs. Lancaster's. Nothing should have persuaded me to it except " " Except Katharine. But here she comes ! " !•] THE OGILVIES. 3 At this moment a young girl descended the stairs. Now, whatever the poets may say, there is not a more uncomfort able and unprepossessing age than " sweet sixteen." The character and manners are then usually alike unformed — • the graceful frankness of chddhood is lost, and the calm dignity of womanhood has not yet been gained.

Katharine Ogilvie was exactly in this transition state, in both mind and person. She had outgrown the roundness of early youth ; and her tall thin figure, without being positively awkward, bore a ludicrous resemblance — as the short, plump Miss Worsley often remarked — to a lettuce run to seed, or a hyacinth that will stretch out its long lanky leaves with an obstinate determination not to flower. This attenuated appearance was increased by the airy evening dress she wore : — a half-mourning frock, exhibiting her thin neck and long arms, the slenderness of which caused her other wise well-formed hands to seem somewhat disproportioned. Her features were regular and pleasing ; but her dark — almost sallow — complexion prevented their attracting the notice which their classical form deserved.

The girl had, however, one beauty, which, when she did chance to lift up her long lashes — a circumstance by no means frequent — was almost startling in its effect. Katharine's eyes were magnificent ; of the darkest yet most limpid hazel. Therein lay the chief expression of her face ; and often when the rest of the features were in apparent repose, these strange eyes were suddenly lifted up, revealing such a world of enthusiasm, passion, and tenderness, that her whole form seemed lighted up into beauty. " Come here, Katharine, and let us all have a look at you ! " said Isabella, drawing her shrinking cousin under the light of the hall lamp. " Well, you are dressed toler ably to-night; your hair is neat and pretty enough." — It was, indeed, very lovely, of a rich purple-black hue, its silken masses being most gracefully folded round her small head.

" But, Katharine, child, what makes you so pale 1 You ought to be delighted at going to this grand soiree ; I only wish I had been invited in your stead." " So do I, too. Indeed, Bella, it would have been much pleasanter for me to stay at home," said Katharine, in a low, timid voice, whose music was at least equal to the beauty of her eyes. " You little simpleton to say so ! But I don't believe a word." " You may believe her or not, just as you like, Miss Bella, — nobody minds," answered Hugh, rather angrily, as he drew his young cousin's arm through his own. " Come, Katharine, don't be frightened, I'll take care of you ; and we will man age to get through this formidable literary soiree together." She clung to him with a grateful and affectionate look, which would certainly once more have roused Isabella's acrid tongue had not Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvie appeared.

After them followed a light-footed graceful girl in deep mourning. She carried a warm shawl, which she wrapped closely round Katharine. "There's a good, thoughtful little Nelly," said Hugh; while Katharine turned round with a quick impulse and kissed her. But she only said, " Good night, dear Eleanor," — for her young heart had fluttered strangely throughout all this evening. However, there was no time to pause over doubts and trepidations, since her father and mother were already in the carriage ; and thither she was herself hurried by Hugh, with an anxious care and tenderness that still further excited Isabella's envious indignation. " It is a fine thing to be an only daughter and an heiress," thought she. " But one can easily see how the case will end. Hugh thinks, of course, that he may as well get the estate with the title ; and uncle Ogilvie will be glad enough to keep both in the family, even if Hugh is not quite so rich as Crœsus.

I wonder how much money old Sir James will leave him, though. Anyhow, it is a good match for a little ugly thing like Katharine. But the husband she gets will make matters even, — for Hugh Ogilvie is a commonplace, stupid boor. I would not have married him for the world." Miss Worsley's anger had probably affected her memory, since she came to pay this visit to her maternal grandfather with the firm determination so to " play her cards " as I-] THE OGILVIES. 5 regarded Hugh, that on her departure she might have the certainty of one day revisiting Summerwood as its future mistress. Let us — thinking of the fearful number of her class who sully and degrade the pure ideal of womanhood — look mournfully on this girl. She had grown wise too soon ; wise in the world's evil sense. With her, love had been regarded alternately as a light jest and as a sentimental pretence, at an age when she could not understand its character and ought scarcely to have heard its name ; and when the time came for the full heart of womanhood to respond to the mystic, universal touch, there was no answer.

The one holy feeling had been frittered away into a number of small fancies, until Isabella, now fully emerged from her boarding-school romance, believed what her mother told her, that " a girl should never fall in love till she is asked to marry, and then make the best match she can." And until this desirable event should happen — which, at five-and twenty, seemed farther than ever from her earnest longings — - Miss Worsley amused herself by carrying on passing flirta tions with every agreeable young man she met. But while Isabella's vain and worldly mind was thus judging by its own baser motives the very different nature of Katharine Ogilvie, the latter sat calmly by Hugh's side, enjoying the dreamy motion of the carriage, and not disposed to murmur at the silence of its occupants ; which gave her full liberty to indulge in thought.

" It is very cold," at last observed Mrs. Ogilvie, trying to make the most original observation she could, in order to rouse her husband, who was always exceedingly cross after a doze — a circumstance which she naturally wished to pre vent if possible. A " humph " answered her observation. " Don't you think you will get colder still if you go to sleep, Mr. Ogilvie 1 " pursued the lady. " Pray suffer me to decide that. It was very foolish of us to go to this party, all the way to London, on such a wintry night." " But, my dear, you know Katharine must be brought out some time or other, and Mrs. Lancaster's soiree was [CHAP. 6 THE OGILVIES. such an excellent opportunity for her, since we cannot have a ball at home on account of poor Sir James. Mrs. Lan caster knows all the scientific and literary world — her parties are most brilliant — it is a first-rate introduction for any young girl."

Poor Katharine felt her timidity come over her with added painfulness; and heartily wished herself on the ottoman at her grandfather's feet, instead of on her way to this terrible ordeal. But Hugh gave her hand an encourag ing pressure, and she felt comforted. So she listened patiently to her mother's enumeration of all the celebrated people whom she would be sure to meet. After which the good lady, oppressed by her somnolent husband's example, leaned her head back so as not to disarrange her elegant cap, and fell asleep in a few minutes. The carriage rolled through the unfrequented roads that mark the environs of the metropolis. Katharine sat watching the light which the carriage-lamps threw as they passed, illumining for a moment the formal, leafless hedges, until every trace of rurality was lost in the purely suburban character of the villa-studded road.

The young girl's vision and the most outward fold of her thoughts received all these things ; but her inner mind was all the while revolving widely different matters, and chiefly, this unseen world of society, — about which she had formed various romantic ideas, the predominant one being that it was a brilliant dazzling compound of the scenes described in Bulwer's " Godolphin," and Mrs. Gore's novels, passim. It is scarcely possible to imagine a girl more utterly ignorant of the realities of life than was Katharine Ogilvie at sixteen. Delicate health had made her childhood solitary, and though fortune had bestowed on her troops of cousin playfellows, she had known little of any of them excepting Hugh and his sister. She had seen nothing of society, or of the amusements of life, for her rather elderly parents rarely mingled in the world.

Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvie were a pattern couple for individual excellence and mutual obser vance of matrimonial proprieties. United in middle life their existence flowed on in a placid stream, deep, silent, I] 7 THE OGILVIES. untroubled ; their affection towards each other and towards their only child being rather passive than active — though steady, very undemonstrative. So Katharine, whom nature had cast in a different mould, became, as the confiding and clinging helplessness of childhood departed, more and more shut up within herself — looking to no other for amusement, seeking no sharer either in her pleasures or in her cares. A life like this sometimes educes strength and originality of character, but more often causes a morbidness of feeling which contents itself throughout existence with dreaming, not acting.

Or if, at length, long-restrained emotions do break out, it is with a terrible flood that sweeps away all before it. Katharine was by no means sentimental, for the term implies affectation, of which no stain had ever marred her nature. But her whole character was imbued with the wildest, deepest romance ; the romance which comes instinctively to a finely constituted mind left to form its own ideal of what is good and true. Her solitary childhood had created an imaginary world in which she lived and moved side by side with its inhabitants. These were the heroes and heroines of the books which she had read, — a most heterogeneous mass of literature, — and the beings who peopled her own fanciful dreams. One thing only was wanting to crown her romance. Though she had actually counted sixteen years, Katharine had never even fancied herself " in love," except, perhaps, with "Zanoni."

A few vague day-dreams had of late floated over her, causing her to yearn for some companion ship, higher and nobler than any she had yet known, — something on which she might expend not merely her warm home-affections, already fully bestowed on her parents and on Hugh, but the love of her soul, the worship of her heart and intellect combined. This longing she had of late tried to satisfy by changing her ideal hero, on whom she had hung every possible and impossible perfection, for a real human being, — that young poet whose life was itself a poem, Keats. His likeness, which Katharine had hung up in her room, haunted her perpetually, and many a time she sat [CHAP. 8 THE OGILVIES. watching it until she felt for this dead and buried poet a sensation very like the love of which she had read, — the strange delicious secret which was to her as yet only a name.

And thus, half a woman and half a child, Katharine Ogilvie was about to pass out of her ideal world, so familiar and so dear, into the real world, of which she knew nothing. No wonder that she was silent and disposed to muse ! "Wake up, little cousin ; what are you thinking about?" said Hugh, suddenly. Katharine started, — and her reverie was broken. The painful consciousness that Hugh might smile at her for having been " in the clouds," as he called these fits of abstraction, caused the colour to rise rapidly in her cheek. " What made you imagine I was thinking at all 1 " " Merely because you have been perfectly silent for the last hour. Your papa and mamma have had time to fall comfortably asleep, and I have grown quite weary and cross through not having the pleasant talk that we promised our selves this morning."

" Dear Hugh ! It was very stupid of me." " Not at all, dear Katharine," Huadi answered, echoing the adjective with an emphasis that deepened its meaning considerably. " Not at all — if you will now tell me what occupied your thoughts so much." But Katharine, sincere as was her affection for her cousin, felt conscious that he would not understand one-half of the fanciful ideas which had passed through her brain during that long interval of silence. So her reply was the usual compromise which people adopt in such cases. " I was thinking of several things : — amongst others, of Mrs. Lancaster's party." Hugh looked rather annoyed. " I thought you did not wish to go, and would much rather have been left at home? " " Yes, at the last, and yet all this fortnight I have been longing for the day. Hugh, did you ever feel what it is to wish for anything, and dream of it, and wonder about it, until when the time came you grew positively frightened and almost wished that something would happen to frustrate your first desire 1 " I] THE OGILVIES. 9 " Was this what you have been feeling, Katharine ?

" "Perhaps so — I hardly know. I enjoyed the anticipation very much until, from thinking of all the wonderful people I should meet, I began to think about myself. It is a bad thing to think too much about oneself, Hugh — is it not?" Hugh assented abstractedly. It always gave him much more pleasure to hear Katharine talk than to talk himself; and besides, his conversation was rarely either rapid or brilliant. Katharine went on. " It was, after all, very vain and foolish in me to fancy that any one I should meet to-night would notice me in the least. And so I have now come to the determination not to think about myself or my imperfections, but to enjoy this evening as much as possible. Tell me, what great people are we likely to see ? " "There is the Countess of A , and Lord William B , and Sir Vivian C ," said Hugh, naming a few of the minor lights of the aristocracy who lend their feeble radiance to middle-class reunions.

" I do not call these 'great people,'" answered Katharine, in a tone of disappointment. "They are not my heroes and heroines. I want to see great writers, great poets, great painters," she continued, with an energy that made Hugh open his eyes to their utmost width. " Well, well, you little enthusiast, you will see plenty of that sort of people too." " That sort of people" repeated Katharine, in a low tone ; and she shrank into herself, and was silent for five minutes. A feeling of passing vexation even towards Hugh oppressed her ; until a chance movement wafted towards her the per fume of her flowers — the flowers to procure which he had ridden for miles over the country that rainy morning. A trifle sways one's feelings sometimes : and Katharine's at once turned towards Hugh with an almost contrite acknowledgment.

She sought an opportunity to remove any painful impression that her sudden silence might have given him. THE OGILVIES. [CHAP. "Well, here we are almost at our journey's enct, and papa and mamma are still asleep. We shall have very little more time for our talk, Hugh ; so make haste and tell me what occupied your thoughts during that long hour of silence ? " " Not now, dear Katharine — not now !" He spoke — at once more gently and more hurriedly than Hugh Ogilvie was used to speak. Katharine was about to repeat her question, when the carriage stopped. II.] THE OGILVIES. 11

Chapter II

Meanwhile the day sinks fast, the sun is set, And in the lighted hall the guests are met. On frozen hearts the fiery rain of wine Falls, and the dew of music more divine Tempers the deep emotions of the time. * * * * How many meet who never yet have met, To part too soon, but never to forget ; But life's familiar veil was now withdrawn, As the world leaps before an earthquake's dawn. Shelley. Before Katharine had time once more to grow terrified at the sudden realisation of her dreams of the world, she found herself in the brilliant drawing-rooms of Mrs. Lan caster, — following in the wake of her stately parents, and clinging with desperate energy to the arm of her cousin Hugh. Her eyes, dazzled and pained by the sudden transition from darkness to light, saw only a moving mass of gay attire which she was utterly unable to individualise.

Her ear was bewildered by that scarcely subdued din of many voices which makes literary conversazioni in general a sort of polite Babel. Indeed, the young girl's outward organs of observation were for the time quite dazzled ; and she recovered herself only on hearing her mother say : " Mrs. Lancaster, allow me to introduce to you my daughter Katharine." Now, ever since Mrs. Ogilvie had discovered an old school-fellow in the celebrated Mrs. Lancaster, Katharine had heard continually of the lady in question. Every one talked of her as a " clever woman " — " a blue " — " an extra ordinary creature " — " a woman of mind ; " and somehow the girl had pictured to herself a tall, masculine, loud-voiced dame. Therefore she was agreeably surprised at seeing before her a lady — certainly not pretty, nor young, except in her attire — but, nevertheless, graceful, from her extreme smallness and delicacy of figure ; there was nothing outri in her appearance except a peculiar st}de of head-dress, which set off the shape of her face to much advantage.

This face was not remarkable for an intellectual expression, though the features evidently perpetually struggled to attain one. In spite of her semi-tragic glances, compressed lips, and fixed attitudes, Mrs. Lancaster never could succeed in appearing a genius ; but was merely an agreeable-looking, stylish little lady. In that character Katharine was not in the least afraid of her. She felt the light touch, of the jewelled fingers, and listened to the blandest and best-modulated welcome that female lips could utter, until the girl's prevailing senti ments were those of intense relief, deep admiration, and undying gratitude towards Mrs. Lancaster. Immediately afterwards a pale young man, who stood behind the lady, timidly and silently shook hands with Katharine's parents, and then, to her infinite surprise, with herself.

" Who is that gentleman ? I don't know him " said Katharine, in a whisper, to Hugh. " Why did not mamma introduce me — and why did he not speak ? " " Oh ! it is only Mr. Lancaster, Mrs. Lancaster's husband," answered Hugh, with a scarcely perceptible smile. " He rarely speaks to anybody, and nobody minds him at all." " How very odd ! " thought Katharine : whose idea of a husband — when the subject did occupy her mind — was of some noble being to whom the wife could look up with reverent admiration, who was always to take the lead in society, she following after like a loving shadow, but still only a shadow, of himself. Katharine watched Mrs. Lan caster as she flitted about here and there, all smiles and conversation, while the silent husband retreated to a II.] THE OGILVIES. 13 corner ; and she thought once more how very strange it was.

She expressed this to Hugh, when, after great difficulty, they at last found a seat, and talked together in that deep quietude which is nowhere greater than in a crowded assembly of strangers. But Hugh did not seem at all surprised. He had not known the Lancasters long, he said, — but he believed they were a very happy couple. Mrs. Lancaster was a very superior woman ; and perhaps that was the reason why she took the lead rather than her husband. " My husband shall never be a man inferior to myself ; I should not love him at all if I could not worship, reverence, look up to him in everything," said Katharine, her eye ddating and her cheek glowing. But when she caught Hugh's look fixed upon her with intense astonishment, she suddenly felt conscious that she had said something wrong, and shrank abashed into her corner.

She was not disturbed; for Hugh did not answer a word ; but once or twice she fancied she heard him sigh. " Ah, poor Hugh ! " thought Katharine, " he imagines his wild cousin wdl never amend. And yet, I only spoke what I thought. I must not do that any more. Perhaps my thoughts are foolish or wrong, since no one seems to under stand them." And Katharine, glad as she had felt of Hugh's society and protection in this gay place of desolation — for so it seemed to her — experienced a feeling very like relief when a lady near them addressed her cousin, and occupied his attention so that she herself could sit still and think. It was an amusement to her to watch the different combina tions of the kaleidoscope of moving humanity which passed in review before her : looking at the different individuals, speculating on their characters, or weaving little histories for each.

Katharine took most interest in her own sex, who at least approached her idea of outward grace ; but the " fine gentlemen " of a modern drawing-room did not at all resemble the heroes with which the romance-loving girl had peopled her world. She scarcely bestowed a second glance upon any of them. At last, while her eyes were vacantly fixed on the door, it opened and admitted — a gentleman. One who — in this instance — truly deserved the name. Katharine looked at him : her gaze 'was attracted a second time — a third — un til it rested permanently on him. He was, in truth, a man of striking appearance. Not from his personal beauty, for there were many handsomer in the room, — but from an inexpressible dignity, composure of manner, and grace of movement, to which his tall figure gave every advantage.

His countenance was not disfigured by any of the modern atrocities of moustache and imperial, no starched white cravat hid the outline of his chin and upper throat, and his black crisped hair was thrown back, giving a classic beauty to the whole head. Yet its character was neither Greek nor Roman, but purely English ; — the lines firm, sharp, and rather marked, denoted one who had seen much, felt much, and is no longer young. But no description of features would adequately convey an idea of the nameless air which at once impressed the con viction that this man was different to other men. Even slight singularities of dress — usually puerile and contemp tible affectations — were by him made so completely sub servient to the wearer, that the most captious could not accuse him of conceit or eccentricity.

This was he on whom Katharine's young eyes rested the moment he entered the room. She watched his face with a vague deepening interest, feeling certain that she had seen it before — it seemed so familiar, jet so new. His form appeared at once to individualise itself from every other in the room ; her eye followed it with a pleased consciousness that it brought sunshine wherever it moved. Poor Katha rine ! The world may laugh as it will at " first impres sions" — - Love at first sight, first-born, and heir to all — but there are in human nature strange and sudden impulses, which, though mysterious in their exercise, and still more so in their causes, are nevertheless realities. Katharine watched this man for a long time. Sometimes when he came nearer, she listened and caught a few tones II.]

THE OGILVIES. 15 of his voice : they were like his face, calm, thoughtful, expressive, — and they went to her heart. " What are you looking at so earnestly, Katharine ?" Katharine had no reason to conceal her thoughts, — so she frankly pointed out the object of her contemplation. "Look at him, Hugh ! Has he not a pleasant face?" Hugh could not see any such face, — or would not. " There ! standing by the lady at the harp. I have watched him a long time, I feel sure I must have seen him somewhere before." " In the clouds, very likely," answered her cousin, with a sharpness rare to his quiet manner. " You could not have seen him anywhere else, for he has but just come from abroad. I have seen him here once before ; but no one excepting my romantic little cousin ever called Lynedon handsome." " Lynedon — Lynedon.

Is that his name ? " " Yes ; and that is all I know about him. But, Katharine — there, your eyes are wandering after him again. Why, you will be noticed if you look at him so much, even though you do think him handsome." "I do not," said Katharine, quietly; "but his face seems as if I knew it. It is pleasant to me to look at him, as it is to look at a picture or a statue. However, I will not do so if it is wrong, or at all events rude. I do not know the world so well as you, dear cousin." Hugh's countenance brightened, and he said no more. Meanwhile, Katharine persevered for at least five minutes in looking in the direction exactly opposite to Mr. Lynedon. At last, casting her eyes in the mirror, she saw the reflection of his face as he stood silent at the opposite end of the room. That face in its thoughtful repose revealed to her the vague likeness which had at once made it seem familiar and dear.