The Daltons Volume II Part 36

CHAPTER XVIII. AN ACT OF SETTLEMENT.

Were we disposed to heroics, we might compare Mrs. Ricketts's sensations, on entering the grounds of the villa, to the feelings experienced by the ancient Gauls when, from the heights of the Alps, they gazed down on the fertile plains of Italy. If less colored by the glorious hues of conquering ambition, they were not the less practical.

She saw that, with her habitual good fortune, she had piloted the Rickettses' barque into a safe and pleasant anchorage, where she might at her leisure refit and lay in stores for future voyaging. Already she knew poor Dalton, as she herself said, from "cover to cover,"--she had sounded all the shallows and shoals of his nature, and read his vanity, his vainglorious importance, and his selfish pride, as though they were printed on his forehead. Were Nelly to be like Kate, the victory, she thought, could not be very difficult. "Let her have but one predominant pa.s.sion, and be it love of admiration, avarice, a taste for dress, for scandal, or for grand society, it matters not, I'll soon make her my own."

"This will do, Martha!" whispered she, in Miss Ricketts's ear, as they drove up the approach.

"I think so," was the low-uttered reply.

"Tell Scroope to be cautious,--very cautious," whispered she once more; and then turned to Dalton, to expatiate on the beauty of the grounds, and the exquisite taste displayed in their arrangement.

"It has cost me a mint of money," said Dalton, giving way irresistibly to his instinct of boastfulness. "Many of those trees you see there came from Spain and Portugal; and not only the trees, but the earth that's round them."

"Did you hear that, Martha?" interposed Mrs. Rick-etts. "Mr. Dalton very wisely remarks that man is of all lands, while the inferior productions of nature require their native soils as a condition of existence."

"Yes, indeed," said Dalton, fathering the sentiment at once; "'tis only the blacks that can't bear the cowld. But, after all, maybe they 're not the same as ourselves."

"I own I never could think them so," smiled Mrs. Rick-etts, as though the very appearance of Peter Dalton had confirmed the prejudice.

"Faix! I'm glad to hear you say that," said he, delightedly. "Tis many's the battle Nelly and me has about that very thing. There's the villa, now--what d' ye think of it?"

"Charming--beautiful--a paradise!"

"Quite a paradise!" echoed Martha.

"'T is a mighty expensive paradise, let me tell you," broke in Peter.

"I've a gardener, and four chaps under him, and sorrow a thing I ever see them do but cut nosegays and stick little bits of wood in the ground, with hard names writ on them; that's what they call gardening here. As for a spade or a hoe, there's not one in the country; they do everything with a case-knife and watering-pot."

"You amaze me," said Mrs. Ricketts, who was determined on being instructed in horticulture.

"There's a fellow now, with a bundle of moss-roses for Nelly, and there's another putting out the parrot's cage under a tree,----that's the day's work for both of them."

"Are you not happy to think how your ample means diffuse ease and enjoyment on all round you? Don't tell me that the pleasure you feel is not perfect ecstasy."

"That's one way of considering it," said Dalton, dubiously, for he was not quite sure whether he could or could not yield his concurrence.

"But if people did n't la-la-la--"

"Lay abed, you mean," cried Dalton; "that's just what they do; a German wouldn't ask to awake at all, if it wasn't to light his pipe."

"I meant la-la-labor; if they did n't la-labor the ground, we should all be starved."

"No political economy, Scroope," cried Mrs. Ricketts; "I will not permit it. That dreadful science is a pa.s.sion with him, Mr. Dal ton."

"Is it?" said Peter, confusedly, to whose ears the word "economy" only suggested notions of saving and sparing. "I can only say," added he, after a pause, "tastes differ, and I never could abide it at all."

"I was certain of it," resumed Mrs. Ricketts; "but here comes a young lady towards us,--Miss Dalton, I feel it must be."

The surmise was quite correct. It was Nelly, who, in expectation of meeting her father, had walked down from the house, and now, seeing a carriage, stood half irresolute what to do.

"Yes, that's Nelly," cried Dalton, springing down to the ground; "she'll be off now, for she thinks it's visitors come to see the place."

While Dalton hastened to overtake his daughter, Mrs. Ricketts had time to descend and shake out all her plumage,--a proceeding of manual dexterity to which Martha mainly contributed; indeed, it was almost artistic in its way, for while feathers were disposed to droop here, and lace taught to fall gracefully there, the fair Zoe a.s.sumed the peculiar mood in which she determined on conquest.

"How do I look, Martha?" said she, bridling up, and then smiling.

"Very sweetly,--quite charming," replied Martha.

"I know that," said the other, pettishly; "but am I maternal,--am I affectionate?"

"Very maternal,----most affectionate," was the answer.

"You're a fool!" said Mrs. Ricketts, contemptuously; but had barely time to restore her features to their original blandness, when Nelly came up.

The few words in which her father had announced Mrs. Ricketts spoke of her as one who had known and been kind to Kate, and Nelly wanted no stronger recommendation to her esteem.

The quiet, gentle manner of the young girl, the almost humble simplicity of her dress, at once suggested to Mrs. Ricketts the tone proper for the occasion, and she decided on being natural; which, to say truth, was the most remote thing from nature it is well possible to conceive. Poor Nelly was not, however, a very shrewd critic, and she felt quite happy to be so much at her ease as they walked along to the house together.

Mrs. Ricketts saw that Kate was the key-note to all her sister's affection, and therefore talked away of her unceasingly. To have heard her, one would have thought they had been inseparable, and that Kate had confided to the dear old lady the most secret thoughts of her heart. The amiable Zoe did, indeed, contrive to effect this rather by the aid of an occasional sigh, a tone of lamentation and sorrow, than by direct a.s.sertion; all conveying the impression that she was cut to the heart about something, but would rather be "brayed in a mortar" than tell it. Martha's mild and submissive manner won rapidly on Nelly, and she wondered whether Kate had liked her. In fact, the visitors were all so very unlike the usual company her father presented to her, she felt disposed to think the best of them; and even Scroope came in for a share of her good opinion.

The interior of the villa changed the current of conversation, and now Mrs. Ricketts felt herself at home examining the rich brocade of the hangings, the bronzes, and the inlaid tables.

"Lyons silk,----twenty-four francs a metre!" whispered she to Scroope.

"I thought they had n't a s-s-sixpence," observed the other.

"And these things are new, Scroope!--all new!"

"I--I--I was observing that, sister."

"What a creature he is, Scroope!--what a creature!"

"And the daughter, I suspect, is only ha-ha-half-witted."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Zoe, as though she did not quite coincide with that opinion.

The confidential dialogue was broken in upon by Dalton, who, having dragged the poor General over the terrace and the flower-garden, was now showing him the inside of the dwelling.

"If I could but see dear Kate here!" sighed Mrs. Ricketts, as she slowly sank into a downy chair, "I'd fancy this was home. It's all so like herself,--such graceful elegance, such tasteful splendor."

"It's neat,----I think it's neat," said Dalton, almost bursting with the effort to repress his delight.

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"Oh, sir, it's princely! It's worthy the great name of its possessor.

Dear Kate often told me of her beautiful home."

"I thought you li-li-lived over a toy-shop? Fogla.s.s said you li-lived--"

"So we did while the place was getting ready," said Dalton, flus.h.i.+ng.