The Bertrams Part 62

O'Callaghan--seem to think them very nice."

"Oh, Miss Todd, I don't want clergymen or officers."

"Don't you? Well then, we'll get some novels from the circulating library. At three o'clock I always drive out, and we'll go to the pastrycook's. Oh, I declare, here's Sir Lionel Bertram, as usual. You know Sir Lionel, don't you?"

Adela said that she had met Sir Lionel at Miss Baker's.

"What a pity that match should have gone off, isn't it? I mean dear Miss Waddington. But though that match is off, another may come on.

I for one should be very happy. You don't know anything about it, I see. I'll tell you some of these days. How do, Sir Lionel? You mustn't stay long, because Miss Gauntlet and I am going out. Or I'll tell you what. You shall take care of us. It's a beautiful day; and if Miss Gauntlet likes, we'll walk instead of having the fly." Miss Todd never aped grandeur, and always called her private carriage a fly, because it had only one horse.

Sir Lionel, having made his salutations to Miss Gauntlet, declared that he should be most happy to be trusted with their custody through the streets of Littlebath.

"But we can't walk either, Miss Gauntlet, to-day, because I must call on old Mrs. Leake, at Rissbury. I quite forgot Mrs. Leake. So you see, Sir Lionel, we shan't want you after all."

Sir Lionel declared that this last decision made him quite miserable.

"You'll be recovered by dinner-time, I don't doubt," said Miss Todd.

"And now I'll go upstairs and put my bonnet on. As Miss Gauntlet has got hers, you can stay and talk to her."

"Charming creature, Miss Todd; isn't she?" said Sir Lionel, before the door was well closed. "Such freshness of character, so much bonhommie--a little odd sometimes." These last words were not added till Miss Todd's footsteps, heavier than Camilla's, were heard well up the stairs.

"She seems to be a very good-natured person. I never saw her before to-day."

"Did you not? We knew her very intimately in the Holy Land"--as if any land ever was or could be holy to Sir Lionel and such as he.

"That is, George and I, and Caroline. Of course, you know all about that Miss Waddington."

Adela signified to him that she did know the circ.u.mstances to which he alluded.

"It is very sad, is it not? and then the connection between them being so near; and their being the joint-heirs to such an enormous property! I know the people here take Caroline's part, and say that she has been hardly used. But I cannot say that I blame George; I cannot, indeed."

"It is one of those cases in which no one should be blamed."

"Exactly--that is just what I say. My advice to George was this.

Don't let money influence your conduct in any way. Thank G.o.d, there's enough of that for all of us! What you have to think of, is her happiness and your own. That's what I said; and I do believe he took my advice. I don't think he had any sordid views with reference to Caroline's fortune."

"I am sure he had not."

"Oh, no, never. What Sir Henry's views may be, I don't pretend to know. People here do say that he has been ingratiating himself with my brother for some time past. He has my leave, Miss Gauntlet. I am an old man, old enough to be your father"--the well-preserved old beau might have said grandfather--"and my experience of life is this, that money is never worth the trouble that men take to get it. They say my brother is fond of it; if so, I think he has made a mistake in life--a great mistake."

All this sounded very nice, but even to Adela's inexperienced ears it was not like the ring of genuine silver. After all, mock virtue imposes on but few people. The man of the world is personally known for such; as also are known the cruel, the griping, the avaricious, the unjust. That which enables the avaricious and the unjust to pa.s.s scatheless through the world is not the ignorance of the world as to their sins, but the indifference of the world whether they be sinful or no.

"And now, Sir Lionel, you may just put us into the fly, and then we won't keep you any longer," said Miss Todd, as she re-entered the room with her bonnet and shawl.

Mrs. Leake, who lived at Rissbury, was a deaf old lady, not very popular among other old ladies at Littlebath. All the world, of course, knows that the village of Rissbury is hardly more than a suburb of Littlebath, being distant from the High Street not above a mile and a half. It will be remembered that the second milestone on Hinchcombe Road is altogether beyond the village, just as you begin to ascend the hill near the turnpike.

Mrs. Leake was not very popular, seeing that though her ear was excessively dull, her tongue was peculiarly acute. She had the repute of saying the most biting things of any lady in Littlebath--and many of the ladies of Littlebath were apt to say biting things. Then Mrs.

Leake did not play cards, nor did she give suppers, nor add much in any way to the happiness of the other ladies, her compatriots. But she lived in rather a grand house of her own, whereas others lived in lodgings; she kept a carriage with a pair of horses, whereas others kept flies; and she had some mysterious acquaintance with the countyocracy which went a long way with the ladies of Littlebath; though what good it even did to Mrs. Leake herself was never very apparent.

It is a terrible bore to have to talk to people who use speaking-trumpets, and who are so fidgety themselves that they won't use their speaking-trumpets properly. Miss Todd greatly dreaded the speaking-trumpet; she did not usually care one straw for Mrs. Leake's tongue, nor much for her carriage and horses, or county standing; but the Littlebath world called on Mrs. Leake; and Miss Todd being at Rome did as Romans do.

"I'll take her for five minutes," said Miss Todd, as, driving through the village of Rissbury, she finished her description of the lady; "and then do you take her up for five more; and then I'll go on again; and then we'll go away." Adela agreed, though with a heavy heart; for what subject of conversation could she find on which to dilate to Mrs. Leake through a speaking-trumpet for five minutes?

"Miss who?" said Mrs. Leake, putting her trumpet down from her ear that she might stare the better at Adela. "Oh, Miss Gaunt--very well--I hope you'll like Littlebath, Miss Gaunt."

"Miss Gaunt-let!" shouted Miss Todd, with a voice that would have broken the trumpet into s.h.i.+vers had it not been made of the very best metal.

"Never hollo, my dear. When you do that I can't hear at all. It only makes a noise like a dog barking. You'll find the young men about Littlebath very good-natured, Miss Gaunt. They are rather empty-headed--but I think young ladies generally like them all the better for that."

Adela felt herself called on to make no answer to this, as it was not her turn at the trumpet.

"What news have you heard lately, Mrs. Leake?" asked Miss Todd. The great thing was to make Mrs. Leake talk instead of having to talk to her.

"Amuse! No, I don't think they do amuse any one very much. But then that's not their line. I suppose they can dance, most of them; and those who've got any money may do for husbands--as the world goes. We musn't be too particular; must we, Miss Gaunt?"

"Miss Gaunt--let," whispered Miss Todd into the trumpet, separating the sounds well, so that they should not clash on the unsusceptible tympanum of her friend's ear.

"Let, let, let! I think I can hear anybody almost better than I can you, Miss Todd. I don't know how it is, but I never can hear the people out of the town as well as I can my own set. It's habit I take it."

"They're used to deaf people in the country, I suppose," said Miss Todd, who, with all her good nature, didn't choose to be over much put upon.

"Ah, I can't hear you," said Mrs. Leake. She had, however, heard this. "But I want you to tell me something about this Caroline Waddington. Isn't it true she's got another lover already?"

"Oh, quite true; she's going to be married."

"Wants to be married. Yes, I don't doubt she wants to be married.

That's what they all want, only some are not able to manage it. Ha!

ha! ha! I beg your pardon, Miss Gaunt; but we old women must have our joke about the young ones; mustn't we, Miss Todd?" Mrs. Leake, be it noticed, was past seventy, whereas, our dear Miss Todd, was only just forty-four.

"Miss Gauntlet can tell you all about Miss Waddington," said Miss Todd, in her very plainest voice. "They are very great friends, and correspond with each other." So Miss Todd handed over the spout of the trumpet.

"She was corresponding with another! I dare say she was; with half a dozen at once. Do you know anything about it, Miss Gaunt?"

Poor Adela! what was she to say or do. Her hand absolutely trembled as she put it lightly to the instrument. Thrice she bent her head down before she was able to say anything, and thrice she lifted it up in despair.

"Is it the lady or the gentleman that is a friend of yours, my dear?

or which of the gentlemen? I hope she has not robbed you of a beau."

"Miss Waddington is a very dear friend of mine, ma'am."

"Oh; she is, is she?"

"And I know Mr. Bertram also."

"Is he a dear friend too? Well, I suppose he's disengaged now. But they tell me he's got nothing, eh?"

"I really don't know."

"It's very hard to know; very. I don't much admire such jilts myself, but--"