Lady Anne Granard/Chapter 57
CHAPTER LVII.
Precisely at ten Sir Edward Hales's carriage drew up at Mr. Palmer's door, and Mrs. P. bustled about to see the necessary wrappings assumed by her aged guests, previous to their leaving her warm drawing-room, the temperature of which had been so agreeable and suitable to Lady Anne, that she determined to remain an hour longer, and Count Riccardini felt himself bound to see her and her daughters safely home; in fact, he was in good spirits, for he felt that he had been with the good, and if they were, to a certain degree, the afflicted, they were not the hopeless and the deserted.
When Mrs. Margaret had made her curtesy to each individual and kissed Georgiana, Sir Edward advanced to Lady Anne, and carefully pulling off his glove (in which there happened to be a little difficulty), tendered his hand. The lady (who had been very charming all the evening) would not be behind in any old-world act of courtesy; she pulled off her glove, placed her hand in that of Sir Edward, and the ring dropped on the carpet in the sight of several of the party, whose eyes led his to the brilliant which lay close to his foot.
"Georgiana! Georgiana! you have lost your ring," said the baronet: "I could know it from a thousand."
"Lost her ring!" cried Mrs. Margaret, in superstitious alarm, which words were bandied from tongue to tongue, though several observed "It was not dropped by Georgiana, it fell from Lady Anne's glove." But the old gentleman being not quick of hearing, and very desirous of doing away with the painful impression made by his sister's explanation, called to Georgiana, who was near the door, whispering with Mrs. Margaret.
"Come here, come here, naughty child, and take your wedding ring from his hand who gave it to you, and be more careful another time."
"Don't scold me, dear Sir Edward; it was mamma who wore it, and her fingers are grown thin; her own rings have all a little silk pad, but this being mine, was not properly prepared."
Lady Anne held out her hand in confirmation, but she did not speak, for the Count's eyes absolutely transfixed her, and as Mrs. Margaret was observing, "that she had at home the identical, light, silver chain, with which it was fastened to the wrist of their female ancestor, who was a great beauty at the court of James the First," he exclaimed, "they ought never to be part, that ring, and that chain, and it will be best for you, my dear madame, to take it in your custode, and keep for Georgiana, till certain time. She shall have her ring, when she have got her chain; the ring have had one grand escape, and I humbly trust, the hand that give the chain will have one also."
Georgiana, who well knew that "more was meant than met the ear," gladly gave her treasure into Mrs. Margaret's keeping, though she trembled for the letter, which was much the best part of it. Helen recovered her usual colour, which had utterly receded, for she felt implicated in the transaction, and longed for the moment of dismissal; but when the old people were gone, Mr. Palmer proposed a rubber, stirred the fire, and seemed inclined to be comfortable; but the Count, starting up with a slight bow to Mrs. Palmer, and a look of almost tearful pity on his nieces, muttered "good night," and was gone.
An hour with his dear invaluable books, a glass of lemonade, and a biscuit, sent the Count to bed in peace with all men; and if he could not exactly forgive one woman, he was at least able to forget her; he was not compelled to say,
"Thy image steals betwixt my God and me."
Far different were the feelings of the family in Welbeck Street; Lady Anne was at once, or rather alternately, enraged, ashamed, and relieved; she could not fail to be angry that she had lost a prize, when it was literally in her grasp; nor could she hope to look her own innocent child in the face, however darkly she might frown, without shrinking from the mode of the transaction, which she considered the only objectionable part of the affair; that she had not actually parted with an article that a powerful and respectable family would have raised every possible means for regaining, and would be eventually brought home to her she could not doubt, since the Count would unquestionably have told the literal truth, if both her life and his own had depended upon it.
At all events, she had not strength to punish tonight; therefore, on returning Helen her key, she said, "You may both go to bed; to-morrow I shall have a good deal to say to Miss Georgiana, as she probably expects."
"Oh! give me your key—quick, quick, dear Helen, that I may see if it will open my box."
It did so, and all within was found quite comme il faut; there was even a ring within the precious letter; it appeared positive witchcraft, but the letter was unfolded with an eager but trembling hand, and she beheld a ring, with a stone beneath, in which a small skull and cross-bones appeared, indicating that it was worn in memory of the dead; both knew it well, it was on their mamma's finger yesterday morning.
"Oh! Helen, Helen, how thankful I am that my own ring is safe, and that we have both seen it; had I found this at a time when I had retired to think and to pray for poor Arthur, I should have believed my ring was changed in order to warn me of his death; I should, indeed; how could mamma perform so cruel an act towards me, when I am suffering so much?"
"She did not think of that, depend upon it; she only meant to swindle you out of the ring, because it is so beautiful and costly."
"But she never pulled off her glove, never showed she had such a thing."
"She did not, therefore I am the more persuaded she meant to keep it and sell it, in order that she may give an entertainment in honour of Mary; poor Mary, who never got a kind word, or a decent gown, when she was with us, must now be fêted and applauded, because she has married a lord."
"Well, Helen, don't blame her for making a piece of work about that, for it is something. I'm sure I wish she was going to do it for your marrying a lord, that I do; but be assured I should never envy you if it please God to give me Arthur, for I consider him a hero, and above all lords, ay, all princes."
The following morning, Lady Anne really did summon a physician, feeling assured, that by no other medium she could allay the fears of the Count. In all cases, where neither acute pain nor violent fever was experienced, she considered medical assistance useless and ridiculous, a mere waste of money, for which she could find much more agreeable employment. When very young, she had been well acquainted with several women of rank, the friends of her mother, who occupied and doubtless amused themselves with being regular nervous invalids, under the surveillance of the then celebrated Dr. Warren, who reckoned them as a sure card for ten thousand a year. Lady Anne determined, even then, never to belong to the delicate and ailing. She did not blame them, for she considered it in the light of a leading fashion, suitable for great houses, and by no means incompatible with beauty and coquetry, having seen it answer in various cases, which, if she had written her projected book, it is probable she would have exhibited in good stile. She rejoiced that it was not the fashion of her day, and had probably rendered her daughters on the whole good service, by making them sensible from their babyhood, that to be poorly was to be naughty; and, on the present occasion, it must be said, she either resisted indomitably, or yielded reluctantly, to the demands of sickness. The indulgences of habit she would not resign, therefore held by the pleasures of the table; but the comforts of equable heat, which was particularly necessary, she denied herself much too long, and resisted warm clothing most determinately; "the last thing on earth she could bear was, that of being an old woman before her time, unless, indeed, it was giving real sovereigns to the doctors;" a little, leetle inclination to coining on the occasion of giving a fee would arise, for it is certain she never did it without remembering a certain depot of yellow medals in a shop-window, which she considered admirably calculated for rewarding the sons of Esculapius.
When the Count had contrived to exchange a few words with the gentleman for whom Lady Anne had sent, and who was not less a man of integrity than skill, the poor girls eagerly seized upon him, and demanded "what the physician said, and what he recommended."
"He say Lady Anne is much more bad than she will allow, and that she must be prevent doing what will be injurious, so I tell him, 'her will is her law, it always have been and always will be;' then he say, 'her daughters must persuade her, she will yield to one or other of them; perhaps the marry one that she respect, perhaps the young one, who is the darling;' so I say, 'Sir, she care for the whole five one pinch of the snuff, and no more.'"
"Oh! fie, fie, uncle! how could you say such a thing to the doctor?"
"I was in anxiety, my dear Helen, and the true flew out of my mouth; so he smile, and he say, 'She must have firm nurse, and warm rooms, and never come out of them, and the ba-ro-meter must keep her in one temper, day and night. Wonderful instrument, I am sure it will be!"
"But how is she to live, uncle; will he give the proper directions?"
"He give them to herself and Fanchette—she must drink nothink but lemonade or milk; fine medicine that; and no culinaries she now eat; that will make her angry, I fear, notwithstanding the ba-ro-meter. You have great task before you, but take comfort. I go to bring you great assistance in the good sisters; an the hosbens of them will be your brothers; and am I not the father to you, and always will be? Bah, bah! it will not do for cry, my daughteres."
Hastily kissing them, the Count withdrew, and, as we have seen, the day but one after crossed the Channel, and was so far fortunate, as to be there only one day before those whom he sought arrived, as we have already mentioned.
The physician, in consequence of the Count's admissions, and his own observations, perceived that it was necessary he should be as peremptory as his patient, whom, however, he could not induce to admit a nurse, though he deprecated, for Helen, the continuance in one apartment. Lady Anne argued, "that what was good for herself could not be bad for her daughters, as they must originally have the same constitutions; but whether that was the case or not, it was their duty to attend on her—two daughters could surely manage one mother.
The doctor had his doubts; but the pertinacity, and the quiet, half-concealed contempt of the lady, piqued him into using his utmost endeavours, by way of convincing her his way was the right in preference to her own; and, in about a week's time, she really did admit as much to Mrs. Palmer, who, with her wonted kindness, sought every day to soften the term of her imprisonment. At this time she informed her, that Lord Meersbrook had written to his grandfather, "that he had seen the captain of a vessel who had been in the same storm with the Thetis, and maintained that she did not go down at that period; and that, being a much larger and better appointed vessel than his own, he trusted she might be then working her way homewards, though slowly."
Mrs. Palmer added, "that this news, though it could scarcely be called exhilarating, had had such an effect on her elderly friends, that they had determined to set out to Bath, and, when rested, proceed thence to Exeter, in order to be nearer the place where the vessel was expected, and to be a support to Lord Meersbrook, in case of the worst."
"I wonder," said Lady Anne, musing, "whether they would like Georgiana to go with them; but it would hardly be proper, as the young man is coming home so soon."
"Alas!" said Mrs. Palmer, "I do not see there is any more prospect of that than there has been the last fortnight. Every day that passes diminishes my hopes; and I would certainly advise you to give my friends the comfort of Miss Georgiana's company, if you did not require it yourself."
Lady Anne had, in the meantime, recollected that she could not spare Georgiana; therefore, she said, "You are quite right, dear Mrs. Palmer, She must stay with me; nevertheless, I am so nearly well, that I am sure this excellent news (for I am sure it is excellent, croak as you please,) will give me spirits to call a little party together, in honour of my daughter, Lady Allerton's marriage, previous to my setting out to France."
"I think you must not venture into the drawing-room during March, Lady Anne, it is a trying month; and I would not have you cross the Channel till late in April."
"If you had seen the breakfast I eat this morning, my good lady, you would not have talked about months, and airs, and that nonsense; 'tis the cant of the medical men; and who can blame them for using it, when it puts money in the purse? Do you think Mrs. Margaret Hales ever shut herself up in a room, and stuffed the keyhole with paper, as Helen has done? Not she, indeed!"
"But then she has no complaint whatever, which makes all the difference."
"She has seventy-five years on her shoulders—complaint enough, in all conscience; she has refused many an offer, I'll be bound, before I was born, for she must have been very pretty. If one could be like her, really many persons would not object to becoming old women."
"I will tell her what you say, and see if it will get a smile out of her; I am going there now, and will, if you please, take Georgiana's arm, as they will go to Reading to night."
"By all means; offer my warmest congratulations; tell them, their first letter will set me at work to kill the fatted calf; but they must expect the wanderer to be in a sadly reduced state, and had better keep him a while in Devonshire. Should I give up going to Paris, as my doctor advises, I shall go down to them there, and take Georgiana with me."
"I think that an excellent plan; and I will tell them exactly what you say."
"Well," said Lady Anne to herself, as the door closed, "if they have a grain of sense, they will see the propriety of writing immediately to their gamekeeper, to send me whatever he can muster next week; and Rotheles is so mighty fond of these respectable old people, that, considering the party as made in honour of the young sailor, nothing can be more likely than that he will be very liberal indeed; the Palmers ought to be so, I am sure, for they had their money, which was, I dare say, more they expected. If the young man is drowned, after all, it will only prove that I deceived myself (owing, of course, to my ardent hopes and wishes), shew that Georgiana is at liberty, and give Lord Meersbrook a hint—the doctor will take one; he is considerate at present, and has done me a world of good; but he must know, that a woman who entertains a party, can only desire to see him in the quality of a guest."