CHAPTER XVI
It was a beautiful August evening—a real summer's evening—and the ladies, instead of betaking themselves to the drawing-room, strolled out on the lawn. Helen, passing her arm through her mother's, contrived to draw her away, and turned into the shrubbery, having whispered to Miss Forrester to take charge of the others; and Lady Portmore, who hated walking, sat down on one of those wretched gridirons commonly called garden chairs, and desired Mary to take another. Eliza thought she should be in the way, and was quietly withdrawing, but Lady Portmore, who had seen Lord Beaufort talking and laughing with her, and had heard Lady Eskdale call her "Dear Liz," thought it would be the right thing to make much of her.
"My dear Miss Douglas, you must not leave us; I foresee that you and I shall be great friends. Pray sit down with Mary and me. Mary is one of my dearest friends; and you must not be afraid of her, though she is the cleverest creature in the world."
"There is one of the prettiest creatures in the world," said Mary, waving away the compliment to herself, and pointing to Lady Teviot's receding figure; "and there Miss Douglas will agree with me, I see."
"And I, I am sure," said Lady Portmore; "in fact, you could not speak to anyone who is such an authority on the subject of Helen's beauty as I am, for I was the very first person who discovered it. The night she came out at H. House, just as she entered the room, so that nobody else could have seen her, I said to the Duke, 'There is the prettiest girl that has appeared this year'; and I remember turning round and instantly saying to Count Czernischeffski, the man with the scar, you know—Princess Saldovitch's hero—Voilà, M. le Comte, une jolie débutante; and after that, all the world, English and foreign, raved about her beauty. I really set that fashion."
"I suppose," said Mary, "that when she appears next year as Lady Teviot—that is, if she does appear"
"How do you mean, my love? What is to prevent her appearing? "
"Nothing but her own good will and pleasure," said Mary, laughing: "it is a foolish expression; but I meant to say that I hope Helen will not adopt the reigning fashion of young married women, and lead a life of balls and parties. I think she will be a stay-at-home wife."
"I don't understand," said Lady Portmore, fussily; "if she stays at home, what becomes of her position, and her rank, and Teviot House? And you forget her diamonds. But that is the way with you clever people; you so often overlook the important point which we silly ones remember. If she shuts herself up, what is the use of her having married Teviot?"
"But she liked him, did she not?" said Eliza, who looked aghast at Lady Portmore's reasoning—or rather calculation—for reasoning was not Lady Portmore's strong point. "I think if I were married to anybody I liked, I should prefer staying at home with him to going to a ball."
"You dear little romantic thing; now that is so like me! I foresaw we should suit each other exactly. There is nothing equal to the comfort of a long evening at home for the husband and wife; but then, you know, other people must be considered—the people who invite one to their houses—and one must go, for fear of not being asked again; and that is the rock on which my domestic happiness splits."
There was a pause while Lady Portmore mused sadly upon this shipwreck of her domestic felicity; and then the conversation began again with the Teviots.
"Did Helen's marriage take you by surprise, Mary?"
"I could not be surprised at any amount of admiration that Helen might excite; but I was in the country at the time, and I had heard very little of Lord Teviot. It was a short romance, you know?"
"My dear Mary, there is nobody who knows so much about it as I do. Miss Douglas will think me very vain, but as she does not know me, I must just let her a little into the secret of my character. She will say I am frank, too frank perhaps; but the fact is, as all the world knows, that before his marriage Teviot almost lived at my house. It was his home, literally his home. He is the most warm-hearted creature on earth, and chose to take a great fancy to me. Why, I am sure I can't guess; but he was on that footing at my house that my own brother might have been. It was the sort of thing that the world might have talked of; and I never know how I escaped all sorts of ill-natured remarks. In fact, but this is between ourselves, I did say to Lord Portmore, 'If you think Teviot had better not come so much to our house, only tell me so, and I will contrive that he shall not dine here so constantly—and yet there shall be no scene, no esclandre.' I thought this right; don't you agree with me?"
"And what did Lord Portmore say?" said Eliza, who was listening in breathless delight to what she thought a very odd and slightly improper story.
"Oh! it was a most gratifying answer to me. He said he had not the smallest objection to Teviot's dining with us as often as he liked, and that he saw no opening for any scene, and no necessity for any explanation; in short, he evidently placed the greatest confidence in me. This was in June, and there were constant fêtes at Teviot House and the Villa; and I was rather annoyed by the notion that the world would say they were given for me. And one day, I remember it as well as possible, it was at a breakfast at the Villa, I said to my friend Mrs. Hanbury, 'I charge you, Cecilia, if you hear any ill-natured comments made on my being at all these fêtes, that you will give me warning in time. I can tell Teviot they had better be given up.' And she said in her odd way, 'Why, my dear, what do you mean? Don't you know that he is desperately in love with Helen Beaufort? I believe he has proposed; if not, for mercy's sake say nothing to him, or you may do mischief.' I do mischief! I! who am the last person in the world to think of such a thing. I went to Teviot directly, and said, 'My dear Teviot, tell me the truth. The world says you are in love with Helen. Are you quite sure of your own feelings? Will she suit you?' and so on, exactly what his own sister might have said to him. And I am as much convinced as if it were told me by an angel from heaven that I made that marriage, for he proposed the next day, the very next day. I suspect he had been a little piqued by my easy way of talking of it, for when he came to tell me it was settled, I never saw a creature in such a state of agitation. It was a very hot day, and he asked directly for a glass of iced water, which shows how nervous he was. I took my line at once, and wished him joy, and said that I would call on Helen, and that I was much flattered that he had put me in his confidence the day before; and then he grew calmer. But he laughed and talked a great deal, and was certainly very much excited, and hurried away again, so unlike him. After that I saw him but little; indeed, I kept out of his way, as I guessed the Eskdales would wish to keep him to themselves; but as soon as he was married, I was so anxious for his sake and Helen's that there should be no awkwardness, no coolness between us, that I offered to come here—actually offered myself—and you saw how well the meeting went off."
"Perfectly," said Mary; "nothing could be more commonplace—more easy, I mean."
Lady Portmore did not look as if she quite liked the answer, and was on the point of turning to Eliza to extract a more flattering opinion, when the gentlemen appeared, and her thoughts took a new direction.
Lord Teviot looked round as he came out on the lawn, and seemed to miss someone, though he asked no questions; but Lord Beaufort said immediately, "Where's Helen? Miss Douglas, have you a mind to come and look for her? I saw her and my mother go up that walk."
"I should like to go," said Eliza, "but"
"Oh dear! yes, we want a chaperon, I forgot," said Lord Beaufort; "perhaps my respected father will have the kindness to act ruffian to us babes in the wood."
"Not I," said Lord Eskdale; "I can't stir a step without my coffee; but there are your mother and sister in sight, at the end of that avenue, so you may go in all propriety and join them."
"Will you come, Miss Forrester?" said Eliza.
"Now, Miss Douglas," said Lord Beaufort, "let us be off, or they will be here, and our excessive attention in going to look for them will not be appreciated. Don't ask that Miss Forrester to come," he added, as they walked away, "I can't abide her."
"Oh! why not, Lord Beaufort? I like her looks so much."
"Her looks then are deceitful above all things. I am not going to add that she is desperately wicked; but she affects to be desperately good, which is nearly as bad."
"I dare say it is not affectation. Why should she not be really good? Now, Lord Beaufort, what right have you to judge of either real or affected goodness?" she added, laughing.
"That right, Miss Douglas, which lookers-on assume of knowing most of the game; and as for Miss Forrester's game, I admire neither it nor the way in which she has played it. Neither do I admire her, and let me advise you not to be taken in by her, as Helen is."
"I am afraid your advice will be thrown away. I feel frightfully tempted to like her. I like everybody, except Lady Portmore, by the by. I am very willing to dislike her, if that will satisfy you."
"Ah! poor Lady Portmore, all women hate her. I wonder why? but we have not time to discuss her now. Well, Helen, my beauty, we are come to conduct you and our well-beloved mother to coffee. Have you finished your confidential communication? and can you listen to a few original remarks in the Repton line, which Miss Douglas and I are prepared to make on St. Mary's?"
"Is it not pretty, Eliza?"
"More than pretty—beautiful. Oh! Helen, how happy you must be here!"
"So I have been telling mamma," answered Helen, with a faint smile; "and she has been making me jealous of you. You are creeping into my place. She says you take such care of her."
"I should be very ungrateful if I did not," said Eliza, gliding round to Lady Eskdale's side, and pressing her hand.
"No sentiment, dear Liz," said Lady Eskdale, "for we must all put on our company faces and company manners now."
They joined the rest of the circle, and found Lady Portmore proving to Lord Eskdale that she had brought about most of the political changes of the past year: and that she knew beforehand all that were likely to take place in the ensuing one.