Astræa: a modern romance

Chapter I

Anne Mallison, aged twenty-one, was a young woman decidedly not after her mother's heart. Her ladyship was too right-minded and orthodox openly to accuse her Maker of a disregard of her maternal prayers and oblations, but nevertheless an impression lingered in her devoutly coloured mind that she had not been fairly dealt with, and that her sacrifices and fulfilment of the laws of spiritual righteousness had not met with a just reward. That Anne had not been created — for she was fully confident that the developing process could have nothing to do with her peculiarities — after the pattern of other women's daughters, was a grievance secretly laid against Providence. This judge's wife belonged to the class of matrons whose sympathies are in no wise unduly broad, but whose joys, on the other hand, are never irrational.

Lady Mallison's affections were strictly subject to reason and propriety. Clearly she was not intended to act the part of comforter to any erring relatives, neither was she fitted to become the recipient of marital confidences or the depositary of childish woes. Of judicious silences, tender oblivions, gentle cancellings of faults, or of loving tact, she knew B ASTRÆA. nothing. Her heart was absolutely ignorant of tolerating compassions, and the sweet balm and oil of gentle pity never flowed therefrom. A fault or a sin was always to be punished according to a certain code, never to be condoned by reason of extenuating circumstances. Anne s mother never kissed a place to make it well. It was rather her way to blister a wounded heart with homilies. Yet within certain hard and fast lines she did her duty diligently, seeking a kingdom to come along an orthodox and well-trodden road.

There were no by-paths to heaven* to her knowledge or belief. The judge, in the beginning of his matrimonial days, possibly by reason of a caution acquired in his profession, had been in no haste to mark his Clara with any conjugal freemasonry which should qualify her to take part in his secret thoughts, or to look on his soul's desire. Her ladyship had even no notion that there were depths in her husband's heart beyond her plummet. But the child Anne was not very old before she discovered that the soundings were out of reach of her line. From her earliest years she was a curious, unsatisfactory child. In babyhood she seemed to give evidence of a rebellious and passionate spirit. These evil dispositions were not, how ever, suffered to develop, and Anne, checked and thwarted, ceased to kick against the pricks.

Gradually she began to live a life apart, and to hide her real feelings under an exterior of cold reserve. Mamma was very kind, of course. It is true she fulfilled the maternal office without much delight or grace, hut no dereliction of duty could be laid to her charge . When Anne was little she was tended by trustworthy and ASTRÆA. attentive nurses, fed on the most wholesome diet, given the handsomest of toys and broadest of sashes. Later on came governesses and lesson books, tutors, masters, musical instruments, all fully qualified to perfect the feeblest talent. Lady Mallison herself would take care that her restless child should learn to sit still on the back seat of the barouche, and not turn an inquiring or anxious glance behind her in the streets towards beggars or cripples. Yret it was certain that Anne's mamma had not the power to make her mind still, or to hinder her childish specula tions concerning the words and works of those she knew best.

Much fire, no doubt, was smothered by Lady Mallison's endeavours to suppress the enthusiasm of an ardent nature. But it was not quite extinguished. The stature of Anne's originality and upgrowing beliefs being kept down by a strong hand of propriety, the sap of life found a vent sideways, producing a growth of philosophy which appeared like cynicism. Beneath that exterior few guessed what strong yearnings and passions lived and' were mighty. Yet Lady Mallison herself, when her daughter in due course of time grew up and was publicly presented, had an uncomfortable feeling that all was not as it should be, and that her system of education had been a failure. Her ironing board had been too smooth, her irons too hot, and instead of a perfect process turning Anne out like other girls, the mark had been overshot.

There was not so much as a crease in her manners. Her well-bred daughter never betrayed spontaneous feeling, nor gave a sign of girlish enthusiasm. Beyond desire, she was self-possessed and womanly. What more could be done? b2 ASTRÆA. It was only in her father's society that Anne occasionally betrayed her real self. She worshipped him with a blind devotion, seeing no wrong in anything he did. A worship of some kind was necessary to Anne, though she would have defied the notion that hers was a venerating mind. The judge was the broadest-minded, clearest-sighted person she had ever come familiarly in contact with. At an early age, when the problems of right and wrong began to trouble her, she had been wont to go to him to have things explained, if not made clear and straight. Now this small Anne, with a commonplace mother and brilliant father, was gifted with a discerning intellect and large powers of observation.

She found it difficult to reconcile her mother's narrow creed with her father's tolerant interpretations of life and his cynical contempt of its ills. As a matter of course, she failed to square the circle of humanity within her ken. The inconsistencies of men and women were intolerable difficulties. There were no straight lines of right and wrong, but each shaped them -as they would like them. There was neither rhyme nor reason in actions or religions. Under these circumstances she buried her doubts and fears as well as she could assuming a sort of indifference which sat so well on her that people believed her naturally cold and sarcastic. In her pinafore clays the judge took no heed of his youno daughter. It was only when the influence of her early training had had due effect upon her that his attention was attracted to her bright intelligence and strong mental gifts.

Some of the colours of her soul were then already fixed, and it was too late to dip her in another dye How ever, he began to observe her critically as a thinoof ASTRÆA. 5 interest, and even to wonder a little concerning her. He was subtle enough to perceive that she exercised an independent judgment, in spite of an outward demeanour of submission. That she was by no means a reflection of her mother made itself evident to him by degrees; and as he perceived his child's capacity for suffering and enjoyment under her calm exterior, his interest deepened. Not that he openly manifested any comprehension of her mind and its workings. He habitually used a language of raillery towards her, thereby helping to wrap her in her own cloak of reserve. In spite of having made a marked failure in her system of education, Lady Mallison was a happy woman.

Her happiness was of a calm, orderly kind, easily maintained by a well-oiled domestic machinery and a due amount of social deference, which her position was able to supply her with. Her circle of acquaintance contained a large element of barristers and their wives, who naturally did a certain amount of homage to the judge's wife, wisely showing their appreciation of her faultless dinners. The sympathy of husband or child was not missed. Her deepest yearnings for companionship might have been fully supplied by cats, dogs, or canaries. These would certainly have been tranquil, precise, and admirably con ducted quadrupeds and bipeds. But wearing a wedding ring, and having a multitude of duties, she did not think of such adoptions. She put on many phylacteries which made her life happy. The first duty of woman was to carry out social traditions.

Her table of law had custom and precedence graven upon it in indelible characters. Stringent rules of etiquette she had faithfully followed ASTRÆA. from her youth up. Every evening one of her religious ordinances, after having commended her most righteous self to the giver of all virtues, was to examine her mind and to take note if haply it had been too merciful towards a sinner. She gave tithes of reverence to whom reverence was due- — a bishop or a lord. Her mint and cummin were religiously paid in cards, dinner parties, and deference to influential people. Her propriety of be haviour, her opinions, her manners, were irreproachable. Her conventional observance of spiritual duties were charms openly displayed in the sight of the multitude. "So good, so charitable, so devout!" murmured the chorus of St. Margaret's curates within earshot of her ladyship.

It was indeed hard upon her, with the frontlet of virtues between her eyes, that Providence should not have re warded her endeavours to bring up her child in the way it should go. A lady well qualified to be the wife of a clear-headed, hard-hearted judge of assize, you think'? She knew better than to seek to temper justice with mercy in her own small transactions of life. Certainly the judge did not reproach his Maker for any uneasy matrimonial lines. Had they fallen in pleasant places? He was never heard to indicate any incompatibility of temper, and certainly no one else was justified in thinking his spouse might not be suited to his requirements. As to Lady Mallison herself, she was perfectly well satisfied with her prize in the lottery of husbands. If the truth could have been known. I am of opinion that she made frequent pharisaical thanks givings in her luxurious pew at bt.

Margaret's, that, owing to her influence, the judge was not as other men are. ASTRÆA. What grateful celebrations of her own virtues were whispered into the pages of her ivory-bound prayer-book cannot be declared, only speculated upon. She had drilled her partner into an outward submission very credit ably. He yielded his inclinations to system and order. He was not shabby, like some who are eminent in the law. He always duly telegraphed the hour of his return, so that bath and slippers and dinner might be in readiness. According to the seasons, he obediently changed his flannels. He took gruel if he had a cold, and never smoked within the precincts of Portland Place. Beyond doubt he was an admirable husband and an easy man to live with, conforming himself to punctuality and rule, and reasonably submitting to persuasion.

He had, how ever, the discretion to keep his papers, books, legal docu ments, in chambers. Of the dust and confusion which reigned unchecked there her ladyship had not the faintest conception. In spite of his docility in some ways the judge was a man to be feared, and outside her own province I believe his Clara stood in wholesome awe of him. Perhaps she retaliated in domestic tyranny. How the judge had come to be married to this lady was a mysterious matter to all except the few intimate friends who had known him in earlier years. His eminent position now placed him beyond the familiarity of all but those few. Moreover, there was a disagreeable coldness of manner, perceptible to the least observant, at any approach to inquiry concerning private matters. A certain tough old General, who had been acquainted with the Mallison family from early years', had revealed some circumstances concerning the judge's courtship to a select ASTRÆA. few in an after-dinner expansiveness of mood.

These threads of verity had been carefully gathered up by the curious Miss Boggis, a lady of City parentage and considerable expectations, had been standing on debateable ground for some time, in the opinion of uncharitable friends, when it all happened. Not that there is any debateable land between young ladyism and old maidism for a spinster of certain means, derived from funded property. This one is never a social failure. But Miss Boggis's means were not certain. She had a small income assured to her, and only large prospects from a cantankerous old relative, by whom she had been adopted. Her fluctuat ing hopes were not conducive to happiness or any peace of mind. Clara, fretted by peevish complaints, and weary of waiting for a dead woman's shoes, had begun seriously to contemplate retiring from the world of City fashion, and abandoning matrimonial competition with younger and more attractive rivals.

She had even thought of sinking part of her small fortune in a charitable institution, and establishing herself as matron. For some time past she had forsaken the entertainments of the light-minded, and a superior severity and modesty in her attire denoted significantly that the shameless tulle-and-froth stage of existence had been passed. Poor cousin Hepzibah, a round-eyed, rosy-cheeked damsel, some few years her junior, sorely felt her own reprehensible weakness when the hard-featured Clara surveyed her be-crinolined tarla tans with a glance of disdain. " There's no necessity, Hepzibah, for you to show quite ASTRÆA. so much of your neck ; it wants a two-inch tucker to be decent." Nevertheless, Hepzibah held to the display of one of her chief charms, a throat and bosom snowy as a swan's. It won the admiration of an alderman, and Hepzibah was promoted to the honour of matrimony before the immacu late Clara.

Miss Boggis had, with much mortification of spirit, already realised her own homely features, unattractive figure, and thirty-three years. These are not softening influences in the majority of cases — cases where matrimony is the desired goal. At this epoch, hard, steel-grey gowns and featherless, flowerless bonnets betrayed the soul of bitterness within her. Enter a brilliant unknown. Presto ! soft laces and frills are sought out. Clara no longer parts her hair " Madonna-wise, on either side her head." She wears fresh gloves, new shoes, pearl-grey silks and satins, refusing to abandon hope. It was at a dinner party, given by one of her aldermanic relatives at Highgate — a periodical feast of sumptuous magnificence, where neither much reason nor soul custom arily feasted or flowed — that a strange partner walked Miss Boggis down to table.

This gentleman so exhilarated her unaccustomed mind by his shining conversational talents, as well as by the distinguished unknown cut of his whiskers, that she then, and at subsequent meetings, un barred the door of her maidenly reserve and prudence to the fascinating Q.C. who had fallen like a meteor from a starry sky upon a dark world. He was slow to respond to Clara's efforts to please, and though he at intervals appeared at feasts and festivals at Highgate, the admiring ASTRÆA. glances of the young woman who invariably fell to his lot as a dinner partner, failed to inspire any reciprocal warmth. So, languishing for a year in undetermined state of mind, Miss Boggis suffered her benevolent intentions ■ __.__■ to fall to the ground. . Suddenly the old lady, whose vagaries the unfortunate Clara had endured with Christian fortitude, departed this life, without any preliminary ailments to give her time to alter her will.

Her niece was found to be the sole in heritress of her wealth, and her relations forthwith flocked about her with advice and attentions. She was not con fused or flustered by the sudden warmth of affection lavished upon her, nor did she treat the sycophants with scorn or derision. She was just enough to recognise that she herself had lived a parasitic life hitherto. Fair she would be to them, rebutting calmly their specious and plausible offers of assistance, but not visiting any mali cious spite upon their new officiousness. Perhaps they would have liked her better if she had done so. She would be just to their w-eaknesses, which she shared, but she was not going to be merciful to the extent of lending money to any impecunious cousins. Meanwhile, Clara mourned a decent period for the decease of her tormentor.

Once or twice Mr. Mallison, Q.C., dined at Highgate, and found his constant com panion absent. Her altered circumstances were made known to him. Then they met again. (_ lara, in price less lace, black satin, and diamonds, did not look at all amiss, with the self-satisfied air of prosperity about her. A little longer yet, a little more perseverance, a shade more warmth, and the backward swain was persuaded to ASTRÆA. advance and take possession of the vessel which Clara called her heart. After a short period of wooing, the nuptials were celebrated with great dclat. Her lover, for want of a more descriptive term, was, in the opinion of the majority, to be envied. Was not her heart all his own, and her fortune quite princely ? I must here admit that the decided encouragement given _. © by Miss Boggis to the rising barrister was a behaviour not in accordance with her former principles of conduct and deportment.

The sobriety and coyness of a well-conducted young woman ought to be patent to the eyes of beholders, whereas she had certainly gone out of her way to ensure success. The highly respectable family of Boggis never had any cause to regret the introduction of Mr. Mallison to its heiress. He subsequently more than realised the expecta tions of his connections, placing Clara on a level above their civic heads. She herself, though never attaining ' O _- comeliness, lost all angles, growing comfortable and placid beneath the smiles of fortune. She patronised a milliner who did not disfigure her, and was a very presentable woman in society. In her barouche she looked a stately British matron, not to be lightly esteemed by the vulgar. She was supremely satisfied to feel that she had reached a social rank beyond her hopes, and that a matronly status had not eluded her grasp.

In spite of unkind prophecy, success had attended her patient waiting and endurance of fortune's buffets. Of course, in time, Lady Mallison forgot to be thankful that she had gained a husband, and threw out hints concerning other designing spinsters which were scarcely kind.

Chapter II

The daughter Anne, already mentioned, was the only child of the union between Mr. Mallison and the City lady who had chosen him. This young lady was, as I have said, the single thorn her ladyship's flesh could complain of. Wherein had she failed in her duty towards her offspring? Under her calm exterior it almost seemed that Anne was self-willed. Self-willed, you understand, in a lady-like way, always appearing subject to authority. She never asserted herself, never declared she would not, or could not, do this or that. Yet, after a quietly persistent fashion, she usually achieved her own determination. Had she looked closely at herself she might have recognised in this steady resistance a Boggis characteristic. A couple of generations of quiet, toiling City merchants had brought out the features of strong obstinacy to circumstances.

This obstinacy was marked in Anne. Familyfeatures or qualities, when they come out in the female branches, frequently appear to develop more strongly. This young lady, however, was not of that clay, es teemed in these showy days, which rejoices to develop strange and eccentric ways and tastes, becoming the dread and anxiety of those responsible for it. Under ordinary circumstances Anne was calm and self-contained, never pedantic nor strong-minded, nor even particularly interest ing, except to a few. Her mind did not occupy itself with ASTRÆA. 13 politics, or run much in the groove of milliners' fal-lals. She was not frivolous or given to frequent laughter, or female friendships. Extravagance in dress she did not know how to indulge in. " My clothes never wear out, and I never get tired of them," she would say when a change was suggested.

Not as other maidens were, was Anne, in the matter of high art crazes. She never made the feeblest attempt to desecrate the comfortable splendour of the Portland Place mansion with artistic imitations, Japanese counterfeits, peacock's tails, Eastern embroideries, or ridiculous gimcracks of the hour. No benevolent whims led her to attend ambulance classes for the pleasure of binding up little boys in yards of bandages, or to rise early to prosecute the drudgery of scouring pots and pans at South Kensington. Neither was she devout after any troublesome fashion. In a general way she took her ease without much enjoyment, yet not finding her kingdom of heaven in any great enthusiams. If John Spencer happened to find her alone, and doing nothing, she philosophised to him with admirable logic on vain haste and fruitless endeavour.

He always listened attentively, with eyes cast down, but with an aggravating smile which somehow puzzled her. Her habitual appear ance of careless indifference or superiority to mundane considerations, seemed strange to those who knew the nature of young girls. Lovers, and dress and pleasure, were not to be connected with her thoughts. They did not know that she boasted secretly, that she never made herself ridiculous by any fervour, and nev-er had to recant a confession or opinion, or regret an admission. Anne's ASTRÆ V pride in not being natural or spontaneous was not a noble one. But the stoical indifference which Miss Mallison aimed at, and believed she had achieved, does not always, in spite of every effort, succeed in accomplishing a deep inward callousness. Anne had fully resolved to do her best not to care greatly about anything in life.

There were so many problems she could not understand, so many evils she could not remedy. What was the good of troubling herself, when she had no power to move other people's pity, or to demand their aid? But the caustic she applied to her own mind could not entirely destroy her sympathy, though in the end a varnish of equanimity gave an outward assertion of cold-heartedness. But let me tell you, I have known frail creatures, full of tender sensibility of speech, with mobile looks, tearful eyes and tremulous voice, answering to every frown with a glance of fear, or to a hard word with a quaver of distress ; delicate things like Æolian harps, trembling sympathetically on every string to the breath of the faintest breeze, yet with no depth of heart to be sensible to true sorrow, with no pity for the real pains of life.

In some things Anne Mallison was hardly feminine. She never cared to make her female acquaintance envious or herself remarkable. Her pin-money was unlimited, and she might order what she liked of her mother's dress makers. Yet Lady Mallison complained that she did not dress suitably or becomingly, and that having her clothes made by unfashionable dressmakers was a fatal mistake. The truth was, Anne could get no well-known house to adopt her views regarding the becoming, and she was of ASTRÆA. a mould too distinctive to adapt herself to the variable forms of a dressmaker's fancy. She adhered by choice to rich stuffs and few furbelows, and in an unconcerned way actually reached a style that suited her admirably. The worst of it w-as that it admitted of so few changes. In her invariable simplicity of attire, Lady Mallison declared her daughter always looked the same.

" And why should I not look the same, mamma ? Am I not to be recognised by my friends? Is there any particular gain in variety? Flowers and birds are always the same colour and shape." Lady Mallison was never metaphysical, so did not enlarge on the delights of diversity and change, saying tritely : " Variety is always charming, Anne. Isn't there some thing in the poets about infinite variety?" Anne stifled a lady-like yawn. " I daresay, mamma. Yes, I think there was a man called Shakespeare once. He wrote plays. But why should I want to be charming?" After which remark you will perhaps admit that Anne was rather an aggravating young woman. When she first entered society, Lady Mallison had regarded the young men who hovered about her daughter at balls and " at homes" with a certain amount of fear.

She was not quite sure what attitude Anne might take towards detrimentals. For beneath Anne's outward dutiful demeanour her ladyship felt that rebellion might lurk. Cousin Hepzibah, now Mrs. Alderman Turnover, was occasionally, as a matron of experience with three ASTRÆA. daughters on hand, the recipient of Lady Mallison's condescending confidences. " Anne is not like other girls, Hepzibah, you see. You may be thankful that none of your children are attractive or likely to be sought out for their fortunes." Poor Hepzibah had to swallow her mortification as best she could beneath the patronage of her relative. She was impressed with the necessity of maintaining a foothold in Portland Place. Her plebeian soul was there occasionally lifted up by the arm of a peer escorting her down to dinner.

" If I tell her that she is not to dance more than twice with the same partner, she will sit all the evening by my side, conversing cheerfully with Mr. Nogo from Somerset House, making herself as pleasant as if he was really eligible." Nevertheless, in the course of two years Lady Mallison consoled herself that there was nothing serious in any of Anne's ivays, and that she might safely be trusted the control of her own heart. Very likely, had some of those carpet-knights, fine-mannered, shiny-booted young fools, aspiring to valse themselves into an easy matrimonial harness, known the opinion entertained regarding them apart from their performances, by Miss Anne Mallison, they would have retired from the contest with outraged dignity of mien. The heiress's favour did not seem easy to win, and, after a prolonged course of waltzing, it struck some of the less unwise amongst them that they never danced nearer a goal.

Beyond a certain point every advance was skil fully defeated. The young men expended much breath, ASTRÆA. soiled many pairs of white kids, and took the gloss off the shiny boots in the lists, without reaping any visible favour or reward. " Yes, mamma, I love waltzing, and Mr. Flotsam carries me like a cloud in a summer breeze. I assure you it's an imperceptible motion. But, oh dear, how sad it is that I never dare let him stop ! Indeed, summer clouds are the most depressing of vapours. Don't be afraid. When Strauss's breeze is over I promise you to come back to your wing, without allowing him to evaporate his mind in my society." Lady Mallison, with plumes nodding reprovingly from the corner of the big landau which takes the voluminous skirts of mother and daughter out to parties, has been holding forth on the enormity of Anne's proceedings on this special evening.

"That way of talking is positively immoral, Anne," she said, with severe dignity. The girl turned her eyes, which had been gazing specu latively at the morning star, on her mother. Then she smiling unwittingly, though she spoke in the quietest of monotones : " Does the immorality lie with me, or young Flotsam, or the cloud, mamma? Indeed, I must order my con versation not to shock you." Lady Mallison rearranged her position, drawing the folds of her fur cloak round her, without a notion of a derisive note in Anne's words. "I declare it's just like your papa's way of talking to strangers. It may be all very well for a man whose modesty can never be called into question to converse in c ASTRÆA. a language which says one thing and means another ; but for you, Anne, it is altogether improper. There's Uncle Peter and Cousin Hepzibah, who have taken no trouble with their children, and yet they all of them can talk pleasantly on every-day matters, and don't make efforts to puzzle or astonish their friends.

Now, Mary or Jane Turnover can tell me whether Lady Tollington's flounces were Honiton or Brussels, and I don't suppose you even know what colour her gown was. And I do believe you almost take a delight in being disagreeable to nice young men. What occasion had you to snub young Molyneux ? It is all very well to be clever, as I say ; but cleverness without manners is no good nowadays. A clever man, however eccentric, will go down in the world, or, to speak correctly, I ought to say up ; but as for a girl who dresses in a singular style, and contradicts people without any apology, she is marked out at once as something to be avoided. Society has made certain laws, and all pro perly conducted people must follow them." The carriage wheels rolled on without interruption for a few seconds. Apparently Anne had been meditat ing, for she took up the thread of her mother's com plaint.

" Mr. Molyneux introduced religious subjects between the pauses of a valse. He spoke of things he knew nothing about. Mamma, I thought it was your chief complaint that there was no life or animation about me. Isn't it part of your grievance that I don't take the trouble even to talk to people, much less to puzzle them ? It is in me not to be interested in things. I am sure you will not find most people call me clever. Indeed, I heard ASTRÆA. a man say to-night that I was ' deuced heavy at small talk'." Her ladyship, being convicted of inconsistent speech, wisely refrained measuring swords with a superior anta gonist. If Anne occasionally undertook argument, she got the best of it. Only in a general way she seemed lazy, or indifferent about the charges brought against her, meeting them with a raising of her eyebrows and a sweet smile.

In spite of her want of outward energy, Anne exercised a large amount of influence in the Portland Place house. Somehow she was a kind of person impossible to pass over or become un conscious of. Her presence was always felt. Those who made a wise, a witty, or a foolish speech looked to her for approval, or shunned her condemnation. More attractive, more showy and brilliant women might be present, but involuntarily her opinion or glance was sought. At the moment of its delivery, it was not easy to decide if she had marked an impressive speech or an unwise utterance, but by-and-bye some general remark, with a side clause of contempt or gracious praise, would cause the speaker to shrivel up, or expand with a gratified sense of virtue. The graceless sinner felt usually disposed to run out of the room with his tail of assertion very much between his legs.