CHAPTER XXXVI.
Whilst Lady Anne was enlarging her circle of acquaintance, increasing her importance, meditating her dress, and deciding on the propriety of Louisa’s furnishing that of Helen, who must have two handsome frocks for the two days' exhibition at the Bazaar, very differently was the present inhabitant of her house situated, for he was nearly "the last man" in melancholy London.
Circumstances, connected with the affairs of his late father, passing through certain law courts, had induced him to engage a temporary house in town, which Mr. Palmer undertook to secure near to themselves, with whom he well knew his Lordship could at all times have the resource of confidential gossipping, (by no means a slight comfort to those who find in "the safe companion and the easy friend," a substitute for more stimulating pleasures,) also a good library, ever ready to supply the best possible advice, and, in one sense, companionship, because we can without offence lay down the speaker, or change the subject whenever we are weary of either. A good horse rides or drives to Richmond, a row to Greenwich, and a stroll in the park, from whence to contemplate mighty London, here seen as
"a lion stretched out at his ease,
A sailor his keeper, his lair the green seas,"
was always delightful to him as associated with all that belonged to Arthur; and these amusements, together with short trips to his dear venerated grandsire and great aunt, made the first two months pass off very tolerably, but the third became very wearisome, for the Palmers were gone to Tunbridge. Arthur's last letter was of a very melancholy character, considering the elastic nature of the writer's mind, and there was no one to whom he could speak of it, no one of whom he could ask those questions the writer urged him to make, though with little hope of gaining reply for a very considerable period.
Besides, the weather grew bad, there was no riding in such abominable torrents as every now and then came on, and still more disheartening was the drizzling, dirty-looking rain, which defiled the streets instead of washing them. Foreigners, or persons who have resided in more equable climates, are always much annoyed by this species of downfall; they are accustomed to the cataracts of the rainy season, and can submit to it cheerfully, often gratefully, but the silent, sleety droppings of the demi saison affect even the best regulated tempers, and the most buoyant spirits. Books lose their charm because we are driven to them, and we sigh for society because we cannot expect it. "Really in England a man must be married or he is lost," said Lord Meersbrook, in self-condoling accents, and with a woeful elongation of visage. "I will step over the way and see if I can find any work on the subject:—that may be done."
By the help of an umbrella this was effected, and half a dozen books chosen, not one of which, however, had reference to the last thought in his lordship's mind, (unless dear Emma Roberts's civil wars of the roses may be thought akin to love and marriage,) his trip across the straits, as Arthur might have termed it, answered a better purpose, it gave him something to think about.
An old woman, with a basket on her arm, and a shabby cloak shrouding her person, was standing in the entrance of the door, and so absorbed in the answers she received, that the servant of the house was obliged to tell her twice to go away before she obeyed, and it was then done with little attention to the information that my lord was coming in, as she departed, muttering, "every one of 'em away, every one, bad luck to me it is alltogither."
Lord Meersbrook had remarked the same woman a day or two before, peering into the area, as if looking for some of the servants, yet neither venturing to ring nor knock; he concluded she was there for no good, but the self-commiserating tone in which she spoke, together with her Irish accent, now caught his ear; he concluded the servants, who were gone with their lady, were the persons she wanted, and thought it was hardly likely they should be great customers, but it might happen they were useful ones; he wished he had bought the contents of her basket.
Disinclined to read, and slowly pacing the drawing-room, Lord Meersbrook, after looking earnestly at two small pictures, by old masters, which had someway escaped from their brethren, which were heirlooms at Granard Park, he at length began to examine the works of ingenuity which adorned the mantel; they were various in form, and some of them considerably the worse for time, but two hand-screens were quite new, and exhibited in front two well-executed bunches of wild flowers; at the back were the initials of H. G. and G. G., traced in cipher by a trailing plant.
"Poor Arthur! if you could hold this in your hand as I do, it would be absolutely inspiring, and we should have a sonnet to your mistress's eyebrow, or her crow's foot; they are very neatly and faithfully executed, but I think Miss Helen's the more tastefully arranged; indeed, she is a very superior young woman; how much good feeling she showed that night at the opera! I shall never forget her sweet sisterly sorrow." How true it is, that one little incident of no great moment in itself may unlock a bosom, in which you may find gems of value, that were not suspected previously!
"Please, my lord, there is a very nice fire in the dining parlour."
"A fire? I am heartily glad of it, 'tis the very thing I want; I am glad you thought of it, Williams."
"The housemaid would have lighted it in one of the drawing-rooms, my lord, but cook said they would smoke she knew, as they have not swept the chimneys for a long time. Lady Anne would not spend a shilling on them after they were let;—not a shilling."
Lord Meersbrook smiled, drew near the fire, and resumed his book, but in a short time found the room insufferably hot, and repaired to the window, glad to see the rain had ceased, and the day gave promise of a ride ere long. Whilst looking out, he perceived the old woman, peering into the area, whom he had seen before. After a time she touched the bell, with great caution; the cook appeared, to whom she gave a slip of paper, on which the woman vanished, leaving the little pedlar of small wares standing on the steps, where she had already placed her basket, in which were a few laces for stays, a half-sheet of pins, two or three balls of cotton, and a couple of bonnets, so small, Lord Meersbrook wondered to what lillyputian race they could be useful, having no acquaintance with the family of dolls.
The cook soon returned with the very hand-screens he had been admiring, and one or two other small affairs, which she laid carefully into the basket; it was an evident case of robbery. The young noble man rang the bell violently, and ordered his man to seize the woman and her basket, and bring her into the house, and then to fetch a policeman. The man obeyed the first injunction immediately, by bringing the delinquent, basket and all, before his lordship.
"This woman has been robbing the house, with the cook's assistance; fetch a policeman, Williams, this moment; the woman below is, I rather think, the worse of the two; both must be secured."
"She's not to blame, indeed, my lord, for cook got me to read the paper which sends her for the things. Here it is."
"Please, Betty, to give old Judy the new hand-screens in the front drawing-room, the harp and the bellows pincushions, the tulip workbag, and the carrier old woman; lay them carefully into the basket, Betty, as you know how to do it, which poor Judy may not.
"Helen Granard."
Of course all suspicion vanished, and Lord Meersbrook, conscious of hasty conclusion, and eager to atone for it, said eagerly, "You know the young ladies of this family, it appears?"
"Know them, yer honour, why, yees, I knows 'em as well as needs be; forbye my lady nivver allows me, nor sich as me, on the primmisses, so I hopes yer honour will be something too much of a gintleman to mention yon have seen me."
"You may depend on my holding no conversation with Lady Anne," said Lord Meersbrook, drily.
"My knowledge of the young ladies goes only to this, that, from time to time, they supplies my basket (swate crathurs that they are every soul of 'em!); what 'ud I ha done three sore winthers but for them, I wondher?"
"Supply your basket?"
"My basket, which I turn an honest penny by: one'll give me a shilling, and another a sixpence, to buy stock with; and, when all were at home, and my Lady Anne to the fore, they have many's the time made me up half a crown amongst them, besides the little things they make without end for the childern, all unbenownst to my lady, and jist for the pity o'ther swate hearts for old Judy, yer honour's lordship."
"But are you going to sell these?" said Lord Meersbrook, eagerly drawing the hand-screens from the basket, and feeling for his purse at the same time.
"Oih! no, no; that there thingumby is by no manes at all for the likes o' me, nor by no manes right to come out in a poor woman's basket; their for the bezar intirely, where the charity is done in great style, your honour, by the say side, wi' the queen, God bless her! at the head of it."
"She means," said Williams, "my lord, the bazaar at Brighton, which is to be seen next month, when duchesses and ladies stand behind the counter, selling such things as those, and then give the money to some public charity. Miss Helen Granard and Mrs. Penrhyn are making all sorts of things for it, at least wise my lady desired them to do it, only, as cook says"
The man suddenly stopped, as if conscious he had said too much; but old Judy, who concluded that he stood still in the wrong place, added vehemently,
"All the poor cook says is just the truth, yer honour; my lady says, 'make me a boxful of grand things—I insist upon it;' but the deuce a stiver she sends to go to market with, and that's the rale truth, as I knows from them as found it out at Master Penrhyn's, who is a gentleman as sets his face agin the bezars, tho' no way agin the poor in ginral; being he is no way partial to lady shopkeepers, not liking by any manes that every dirty fellow with a crown in his pocket should have lave to stare his own beautiful wife out o' countenance, an' she the mother of his heir, yer honour."
"Then it appears every body does not approve bazaars, Judy?" said Lord Meersbrook, exceedingly amused by her earnestness, and by no means sorry to have an opportunity of talking about the young ladies, "for the sake of his brother," as he assured himself.
"Why, troth, my lord (for a raal lord and a gintleman into the bargain I don't doubt ye are), there's two sides as to opinions in every thing; one good man does not see wid the same eyes as another good man, and who's to say which o'ther eyes sees the clearest. But about one thing there's no doubt at all at all—things cannot be bought athout money, and the most ingenestes ladies as ever were born can't make pretty things out of their fingers' ends, else for sure Miss Helen Granard is the ganius for it."
"But you don't think her so clever or so pretty as her sisters, Judy?"
"Faith and troth, my lord yer honour, I should be glad to see which o'them (barrin thare aqual in the real goodness all five) can stand beside her in regard to the blue eyes, which are as innocent as the virgin's in Bethlehem (afore ever she cast them over the crowds in Jerusalem); and, as to the length of her white neck, and the way her head stands upon it, which, I'll be bound to say, will hardly be matched in all Connaught, and that's a bould word, rimimbering them that springs from the true Irish gentry."
A slight colour tinged the cheek and even flitted over the brow of our handsome, not less than noble questioner, as he recollected that his own conclusions and recollections coincided with the opinions of an ignorant old Irishwoman, "but certainly no fool—the Irish are all acute and discerning. But why did she look at him? What could she mean by it?"
"Then you have nothing to sell in your basket, Judy? You are going to take those screens and things, I trust, to the true owner."
"Of course; and it's true, yer honour, my basket has nothing whatever that 'ud tempt a gentleman to buy who is not in the matrimonial line, for it wants plenishing sadly, and it's little Miss Helen can do towards it, an sorry I'd be entirely to mintion my necessities to her who (being a rale lady, flesh, blood, and bone, to the heart's drop) has got a workbox herself that needs that same plenishing; and so good day to your honour; an if there be a wish in yer heart going along wi' the bit blush on yer cheek (which same becomes you mightily), all I can say is, God speed it, jewel!"
Need we say Judy's basket "got a plenishing." If it had not, the young lord (as handsome as he was) would not have been, in Judy's phrase, "the man for our money."