CHAPTER XV.
The look of consternation assumed by Lady Anne, on this trying occasion, instantly communicated to her alarmed daughters a sense of the necessity for guarding their secret, which ought never to have entered their minds. They could not bring themselves to believe that the church in which their beautiful sister had "plighted her troth," was materially different from that which had received the vows of Isabella, and were quite certain that her marriage exhibited no "maimed rites," and that her bridegroom was much more animated, and apparently more happy than the dear, good gentleman, whom alone they had beheld in a similar situation. The only difference in the affair which struck them was the great age of the officiating minister, as distinct from the elegant young gentleman who officiated in their younger sister's case, and they alike gave him greatly the preference. In the simplicity of their hearts, they believed that his prayers would have more efficacy from the many years in which they had been offered, and had therefore already concluded (with the premature conviction of youth) that although Isabella had been far the better married, Louisa would be the happier wife.
But that mamma did not think so, nor even wish it should be so, was evident from the indignation not less than the sorrow of her countenance on reading the announcement of the marriage sent so considerately by her dear friend, Lady Penrhyn, for the amiable purpose of making her very miserable. That the obliging missive answered its purpose we have seen, but, as the two ladies had too many points in common not to understand one another, no long time elapsed before the dowager drew some consolation from the belief, that at the very time when a source of chagrin was thus offered to her, the kind hand which bestowed the blow belonged to one who was overwhelmed with vexation herself. "If she ever loved any human being (but of that I have my doubts), "it was certainly her brother; and, since she caught that fool, her husband, it may probably have entered her head that Charles might be as lucky as herself; in that case, she is mortified very sufficiently, I must own; nevertheless, she has no right to think lightly of the honour he has attained, which is more, a great deal, than she had a right to expect; but she is, in fact, an odious creature."
Lady Anne was happily interrupted by the arrival of the post with a letter, franked by her brother the Earl of Rotheles; he was so ailing and so indolent, that she was not surprised to find it merely an envelope to a slip of newspaper, such a circumstance having not unfrequently occurred to her before. She could not have any doubt that it was merely a repetition of that she had already felt to be an insult, and that it was forwarded by her sister-in-law, with a good deal of the same kindly intention which actuated her friend; it was, however, in a larger print than the one on the table, and might be less annoying; she, therefore, told Georgiana to read it to her.
The poor girl took it up with a deprecating air, saying, '"Which side must I read, mamma?"
"The side, miss, which exhibits your sister's disgraceful position in the low marriage which she has made, for I have no doubt that is the galling subject of the paper. Your eye is quick enough; read that, and let it operate on both you and Helen as a warning."
"Married, at St. Giles's, by the Lord Bishop of Chichester, Rector, Charles Penrhyn, only son of the late Charles Penrhyn, Esq., of Penrhynhurst, to Louisa, second daughter of the late Edward Granard, Esq., of Granard Park, and Lady Anne, daughter of the late and sister of the present Earl of Rotheles. The beautiful bride was given at the altar by James Palmer, Esq., as the representative of the earl, her uncle, and accompanied by her lovely sisters, Mr. and Mrs. Gooch, and other friends."
Before there was time for comment, Georgiana, glancing her eye to the lower part of the slip of paper, read on.
"The great age of the venerable Bishop of Chichester renders it utterly improbable that he should ever again officiate at the altar, for we are assured that, immediately after performing the ceremony of that marriage in high life mentioned above, his lordship set out for the palace at Chichester; but it was much doubted, by his lordship's friends and attendants, whether he would arrive there in life."
"I hope he will not." exclaimed Lady Anne, "for it is a relief to know she was married by a proper person, and undoubtedly old Chichester was a gentleman, and it will be always thought he killed himself by making an exertion due to my family—not but the whole affair may be a story got up to please my brother. One part of it is a lie, we are certain—she had no lovely sisters, nor unlovely ones either, for both Mary and Isabella are broiling on the Mediterranean sea."
Georgiana looked at Helen, who sprang forward and took her hand, when both dropped on their knees before their mother, and, with eyes full of tears, looked timidly towards her—both found great difficulty in speaking, yet they were equally sensible that they ought to do so, and that now was their time, for the Bishop had certainly half-exorcised the evil spirit which had so lately possessed her ladyship. Georgiana therefore began.
"We were so fond of Louisa, mamma."
"She loved us so very dearly," sighed Helen.
"And to have no mamma, no sister, no natural friend."
"At such an awful time!" echoed Helen.
"What can you mean to say? What do you kneel and cry for, in that unnatural way, like a pair of tragedy queens?"
"Because, mamma, we—"
"We were there—pray, pray forgive us—we went to the wedding."
"Went to the wedding in your pink ginghams?" screamed Lady Anne.
"Oh! no, dear mamma, we dressed in the same things exactly which were given us for Isabella's bridal—surely we did right to appear as your daughters and Mrs. Glentworth's sisters ought to do?" sobbed Georgiana.
"You did very wrong in the whole affair; but, pray, rise, I hate a scene—my nerves are overwrought with these detestable newspapers—not but the last is very tolerably made up—the Palmers of Nayburgh Hall, in Yorkshire, are an ancient and highly respectable family; so are the Gooches, in Suffolk and Gloucester—so far it is fortunate that no vulgar names appear, save that of the church, and within half a century there were two ducal seats in that parish."
"Yes, mamma, and Milton and Marvel were both buried there," cried Helen, in a consolatory voice.
"At least the latter was," observed Georgiana.
"The place could not be made endurable by fifty such people, much less two—both poets and both radicals—no, no, the stain is indelible; but, where people have no mark, they soon become forgotten. Louisa has consigned herself to oblivion, so I shall not vex myself with thinking of her. I shall tell Mrs. Palmer my opinion freely as to her conduct."
"She did every thing for your sake, mamma; she said, 'Lady Anne must not be vexed nor mortified;' she contrived every thing so that you might escape all trouble and see nothing to wound you."
In point of fact, perhaps, Lady Anne, during her whole wedded life, had never experienced so much of the ordinary feelings of a mother as rose in her heart (if she had such a thing) when her two fair girls, with tearful eyes and beseeching countenances, looked to her for pardon and love. She had preferred Louisa, as considering her the most beautiful and the most likely to make a splendid marriage-connection; and was, of course, exceedingly disappointed that she should have done what she considered exactly the reverse; and she also felt very angry at the disobedience she had evinced, and the bad example she had given her younger sisters; but their conduct convinced her that, in this respect, she had little to fear. They had done wrong, but the Palmers were more to blame than the girls; and they were, after all, too convenient to be quarrelled with. It was, certainly, better that Louisa should have found a home with people of character, though such people, than have been taken by Charles Penrhyn to a lodging-house. Her daughter had, at least, shown a sense of propriety which would establish her mother's character as a woman who had inculcated the strictest decorum.
Nor could that mother be quite devoid of a laudable curiosity as to the appearance and conduct of her once favourite daughter, on the most important day of her existence, for it savoured of affection at least; therefore we give the ci-devant beauty praise for inquiring "what Louisa wore, and how she looked?"
On hearing of the muslin dress, she sneeringly observed "it was contemptible, but certainly consistent with the state of life to which she had condemned herself," adding, "you must see, in this very circumstance, my dears" (the sweet words enhanced the worth of the advice, for my dears in Lady Anne's case were words "few and far between"), "the vast difference between marrying well and ill. Isabella, whom I always considered my plainest child (as she was by no means so fair as the rest; and was, moreover, too young for finished tournure or even manner), in white satin and blonde, with her bandeau of diamonds, and that splendid Brussels' veil, so sweetly supported by the orange wreath, would actually look better than Louisa could possibly do, in a muslin dress and a crape bonnet, even with her unrivalled hair and exquisite eyes!"
Georgiana and Helen were both silent.
"Surely you saw (since you were so imprudent as to go thither) the great difference between your two sisters' situation as brides?"
"Oh! yes," cried Helen; "though I was all of a flutter, knowing that I had done wrong, and yet feeling someway as if I had done right, I did feel clearly there was a difference, mamma."
"Well, child, and in what did it consist?"
"Charles Penrhyn looked a great deal happier than Mr. Glentworth, and Louisa not quite so happy as Isabella—how should she, dear mamma, when you had not given your consent? otherwise she would have been perfectly beautiful, for dear uncle's kind letter and pretty present of most becoming gold ornaments had done her a great deal of good, undoubtedly."
"Did you read the Earl's letter?"
"I was so hurried I could scarcely read it, but I know he said he was sorry he could not give his pretty niece away to a worthy man, and he thought it would have been a sad thing if she had been an old maid, whilst her mamma was waiting to find her a duke."
"Umph!—umph!—was it written in the Earl's hand?"
"Oh! yes, mamma—and the box of ornaments, though plain gold, were so good, Louisa said she was sure the Countess had no hand in sending them."
"She is no fool in that conclusion, fool as she has been in other and more material affairs."