Miss Mackenzie Part 55

"But I am a woman, and am very poor."

"Yes, and he is a man, and, like most men, very dumb when they have anything at heart which requires care in the speaking. He knows no better than to let things be as they are; to leave the words all unspoken till he can say to you, 'Now is the time for us to go and get ourselves married;' just as he might tell you that now was the time to go and dine."

"But will he ever say that?"

"Of course he will. If he does not say so when all this business is off his mind, when Mr Maguire and his charges are put at rest, when the lawyers have finished their work, then come to me and tell me that I have deceived you. Say to me then, 'Clara Mackenzie, you have put me wrong, and I look to you to put me right.' You will find I will put you right."

In answer to this, Margaret was able to say nothing further. She sat for a while with her face buried in her hands thinking of it all, asking herself whether she might dare to believe it all. At last, however, she went up to dress for dinner; and when she came down to the drawing-room there was a smile upon her face.

After that a month or six weeks pa.s.sed in Cavendish Square, and there was, during all that time, no further special reference to Sir John Ball or his affairs. Twice he was asked to dine with the Mackenzies, and on both occasions he did so. On neither of those evenings did he say very much to Margaret; but, on both of them he said some few words, and it was manifestly his desire that they should be regarded as friends.

And as the spring came on, Margaret's patience returned to her, and her spirits were higher than they had been at any time since she first discovered that success among the Stumfoldians at Littlebath did not make her happy.

CHAPTER XXVII

The Negro Soldiers' Orphan Bazaar

In the spring days of the early May there came up in London that year a great bazaar,--a great charity bazaar on behalf of the orphan children of negro soldiers who had fallen in the American war.

Tidings had come to this country that all slaves taken in the revolted States had been made free by the Northern invaders, and that these free men had been called upon to show their immediate grat.i.tude by becoming soldiers in the Northern ranks. As soldiers they were killed in battle, or died, and as dead men they left orphans behind them. Information had come that many of these orphans were starving, and hence had arisen the cause for the Negro Soldiers' Orphan Bazaar.

There was still in existence at that time, down at South Kensington, some remaining court or outstanding building which had belonged to the Great International Exhibition, and here the bazaar was to be held. I do not know that I can trace the way in which the idea grew and became great, or that anyone at the time was able to attribute the honour to the proper founder. Some gave it all to the Prince of Wales, declaring that his royal highness had done it out of his own head; and others were sure that the whole business had originated with a certain philanthropical Mr Manfred Smith who had lately come up in the world, and was supposed to have a great deal to do with most things. Be that as it may, this thing did grow and become great, and there was a list of lady patronesses which included some d.u.c.h.esses, one marchioness, and half the countesses in London. It was soon manifest to the eyes of those who understood such things, that the Negro Soldiers' Orphan Bazaar was to be a success, and therefore there was no difficulty whatsoever in putting the custody of the stalls into the hands of proper persons. The difficulty consisted in rejecting offers from persons who undoubtedly were quite proper for such an occasion. There came to be interest made for permission to serve, and boastings were heard of unparalleled success in the bazaar line. The d.u.c.h.ess of St Bungay had a happy bevy of young ladies who were to act as counter attendants under her grace; and who so happy as any young lady who could get herself put upon the d.u.c.h.ess's staff?

It was even rumoured that a certain very distinguished person would have shown herself behind a stall, had not a certain other more distinguished person expressed an objection; and while the rumour was afloat as to the junior of those two distinguished persons, the young-ladydom of London was frantic in its eagerness to officiate.

Now at that time there had become attached to the name of our poor Griselda a romance with which the west-end of London had become wonderfully well acquainted. The story of the Lion and the Lamb was very popular. Mr Maguire may be said to have made himself odious to the fas.h.i.+onable world at large, and the fate of poor Margaret Mackenzie with her lost fortune, and the additional misfortune of her clerical pledged protector, had recommended itself as being truly interesting to all the feeling hearts of the season. Before May was over, gentlemen were enticed to dinner parties by being told--and untruly told--that the Lamb had been "secured;" as on the previous year they had been enticed by a singular a.s.surance as to Bishop Colenso; and when Margaret on one occasion allowed herself to be taken to Covent Garden Theatre, every face from the stalls was turned towards her between the acts.

Who then was more fit to take a stall, or part of a stall at the Negro Soldiers' Orphan Bazaar, than our Griselda? When the thing loomed so large, lady patronesses began to be aware that mere n.o.bodies would hardly be fit for the work. There would have been little or no difficulty in carrying out a law that n.o.body should take a part in the business who had not some handle to her name, but it was felt that such an arrangement as that might lead to failure rather than glory. The commoner world must be represented but it should be represented only by ladies who had made great names for themselves. Mrs Conway Sparkes, the spiteful poetess, though she was old and ugly as well as spiteful, was to have a stall and a bevy, because there was thought to be no doubt about her poetry. Mrs Chaucer Munro had a stall and a bevy; but I cannot clearly tell her claim to distinction, unless it was that she had all but lost her character four times, but had so saved it on each of those occasions that she was just not put into the Index Expurgatorius of fas.h.i.+onable society in London. It was generally said by those young men who discussed the subject, that among Mrs Chaucer Munro's bevy would be found the most lucrative fascination of the day. And then Mrs Mackenzie was asked to take a stall, or part of a stall, and to bring Griselda with her as her a.s.sistant. By this time the Lamb was most generally known as "Griselda" among fas.h.i.+onable people.

Now Mrs Mackenzie was herself a woman of fas.h.i.+on, and quite open to the distinction of having a part a.s.signed to her at the great bazaar of the season. She did not at all object to a booth on the left hand of the d.u.c.h.ess of St Bungay, although it was just opposite to Mrs Chaucer Munro. She a.s.sented at once.

"But you must positively bring Griselda," said Lady Glencora Palliser, by whom the business of this mission was conducted.

"Of course, I understand that," said Mrs Mackenzie. "But what if she won't come?"

"Griseldas are made to do anything," said Lady Glencora, "and of course she must come."

Having settled the difficulty in this way, Lady Glencora went her way, and Mrs Mackenzie did not allow Griselda to go to her rest that night till she had extracted from her a promise of acquiescence, which, I think, never would have been given had Miss Mackenzie understood anything of the circ.u.mstances under which her presence was desired.

But the promise was given, and Margaret knew little or nothing of what was expected from her till there came up, about a fortnight before the day of the bazaar, the great question of her dress for the occasion. Previous to that she would fain have been energetic in collecting and making things for sale at her stall, for she really taught herself to be anxious that the negro soldiers' orphans should have provision made for them; but, alas! her energy was all repressed, and she found that she was not to be allowed to do anything in that direction.

"Things of that sort would not go down at all now-a-days, Margaret,"

said Mrs Mackenzie. "n.o.body would trouble themselves to carry them away. There are tradesmen who furnish the stalls, and mark their own prices, and take back what is not sold. You charge double the tradesman's price, that's all."

Margaret, when her eyes were thus opened, of course ceased to make little pincus.h.i.+ons, but she felt that her interest in the thing was very much lowered. But a word must be said as to that question of the dress. Miss Mackenzie, when she was first interrogated as to her intentions, declared her purpose of wearing a certain black silk dress which had seen every party at Mrs Stumfold's during Margaret's Littlebath season. To this her cousin demurred, and from demurring proceeded to the enunciation of a positive order. The black silk dress in question should not be worn. Now Miss Mackenzie chose to be still in mourning on the second of June, the day of the bazaar, her brother having died in September, and had no fitting garment, so she said, other than the black silk in question. Whereupon Mrs Mackenzie, without further speech to her cousin on the subject, went out and purchased a muslin covered all over with the prettiest little frecks of black, and sent a milliner to Margaret, and provided a bonnet of much the same pattern, the gayest, lightest, jauntiest, falsest, most make-belief-mourning bonnet that ever sprang from the art of a designer in bonnets--and thus nearly broke poor Margaret's heart.

"People should never have things given them, who can't buy for themselves," she said, with tears in her eyes, "because of course they know what it means."

"But, my dearest," said Mrs Mackenzie, "young ladies who never have any money of their own at all always accept presents from all their relations. It is their special privilege."

"Oh, yes, young ladies; but not women like me who are waiting to find out whether they are ruined or not."

The difficulty, however, was at last overcome, and Margaret, with many inward upbraidings of her conscience, consented to wear the black-freckled dress.

"I never saw anybody look so altered in my life," said Mrs Mackenzie, when Margaret, apparelled, appeared in the Cavendish Square drawing-room on the morning in question. "Oh, dear, I hope Sir John Ball will come to look at you."

"Nonsense! he won't be such a fool as to do anything of the kind."

"I took care to let him know that you would be there;" said Mrs Mackenzie.

"You didn't?"

"But I did, my dear."

"Oh, dear, what will he think of me?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Margaret; but nevertheless I fancy that there must have been some elation in her bosom when she regarded herself and the freckled muslin in the gla.s.s.

Both Mrs Mackenzie and Miss Mackenzie had more than once gone down to the place to inspect the ground and make themselves familiar with the position they were to take. There were great stalls and little stalls, which came alternately; and the Mackenzie stall stood next to a huge centre booth at which the d.u.c.h.ess was to preside. On their other hand was the stall of old Lady Ware, and opposite to them, as has been before said, the doubtful Mrs Chaucer Munro was to hold difficult sway over her bevy of loud nymphs. Together with Mrs Mackenzie were two other Miss Mackenzies, sisters of her husband, handsome, middle-aged women, with high cheek-bones and fine brave-looking eyes. All the Mackenzies, except our Griselda, were dressed in the tartan of their clan; and over the stall there was some motto in Gaelic, "Dhu dhaith donald dhuth," which n.o.body could understand, but which was not the less expressive. Indeed, the Mackenzie stall was got up very well; but then was it not known and understood that Mrs Mackenzie did get up things very well? It was acknowledged on all sides that the Lamb, Griselda, was uncommonly well got up on this occasion.

It was understood that the ladies were to be a.s.sembled in the bazaar at half-past two, and that the doors were to be thrown open to the public at three o'clock. Soon after half-past two Mrs Mackenzie's carriage was at the door, and the other Mackenzies having come up at the same time, the Mackenzie phalanx entered the building together.

There were many others with them, but as they walked up they found the Countess of Ware standing alone in the centre of the building, with her four daughters behind her. She had on her head a wonderful tiara, which gave to her appearance a ferocity almost greater than was natural to her. She was a woman with square jaws, and a big face, and stout shoulders: but she was not, of her own una.s.sisted height, very tall. But of that tiara and its alt.i.tude she was proud, and as she stood in the midst of the stalls, brandis.h.i.+ng her umbrella-sized parasol in her anger, the ladies, as they entered, might well be cowed by her presence.

"When ladies say half-past two," said she, "they ought to come at half-past two. Where is the d.u.c.h.ess of St Bungay? I shall not wait for her."

But there was a lady there who had come in behind the Mackenzies, whom nothing ever cowed. This was the Lady Glencora Palliser, the great heiress who had married the heir of a great duke, pretty, saucy, and occasionally intemperate, in whose eyes Lady Ware with her ferocious tiara was simply an old woman in a ridiculous head-gear.

The countess had apparently addressed herself to Mrs Mackenzie, who had been the foremost to enter the building, and our Margaret had already begun to tremble. But Lady Glencora stepped forward, and took the brunt of the battle upon herself.

"n.o.body ever yet was so punctual as my Lady Ware," said Lady Glencora.

"It is very annoying to be kept waiting on such occasions," said the countess.

"But my dear Lady Ware, who keeps you waiting? There is your stall, and why on earth should you stand here and call us all over as we come in, like naughty schoolboys?"

"The d.u.c.h.ess said expressly that she would be here at half-past two."

"Who ever expects the dear d.u.c.h.ess to keep her word?" said Lady Glencora.

"Or whoever cared whether she does or does not?" said Mrs Chaucer Munro, who, with her peculiar bevy, had now made her way up among the front rank.

Then to have seen the tiara of Lady Ware, as it wagged and nodded while she looked at Mrs Munro, and to have witnessed the high moral tone of the ferocity with which she stalked away to her own stall with her daughters behind her,--a tragi-comedy which it was given to no male eyes to behold,--would have been worth the whole after-performance of the bazaar. No male eyes beheld that scene, as Mr Manfred Smith, the manager, had gone out to look for his d.u.c.h.ess, and missing her carriage in the crowd, did not return till the bazaar had been opened. That Mrs Chaucer Munro did not sink, collapsed, among her bevy, must have been owing altogether to that callousness which a long habit of endurance produces. Probably she did feel something as at the moment there came no t.i.tter from any other bevy corresponding to the t.i.tter which was raised by her own. She and her bevy retired to their allotted place, conscious that their time for glory could not come till the male world should appear upon the scene. But Lady Ware's tiara still wagged and nodded behind her counter, and Margaret, looking at her, thought that she must have come there as the grand duenna of the occasion.

Just at three o'clock the poor d.u.c.h.ess hurried into the building in a terrible flurry, and went hither and thither among the stalls, not knowing at first where was her throne. Unkind chance threw her at first almost into the booth of Mrs Conway Sparkes, the woman whom of all women she hated the most; and from thence she recoiled into the arms of Lady Hartletop who was sitting serene, placid, and contented in her appointed place.

"Opposite, I think, d.u.c.h.ess," Mrs Conway Sparkes had said. "We are only the small fry here."

"Oh, ah; I beg pardon. They told me the middle, to the left."

"And this is the middle to the right," said Mrs Conway Sparkes. But the d.u.c.h.ess had turned round since she came in, and could not at all understand where she was.