ell, vincent, you have returned to a strange house; strange doings have there been during your absence.” such were the words with which arabella had greeted her young brother, when, on his first arrival, he had burst into the drawing-room, with all the impatient joy of a boy just emancipated from school.
“you’ll hardly believe what has happened,” said louisa.
“why, what’s the matter?” exclaimed vincent, looking in surprise from the one to the other.
“we none of us can tell where we may find ourselves in another month,” continued louisa. “i foretell that i shall be finishing my education in jersey, and arabella in the isle of man.”
“what has happened?” cried vincent impatiently; “anything in which our pretty step-mother is concerned?”
“pretty step-mother, indeed!” exclaimed arabella. “she has begun to change and overturn everything in the house. nothing is free from her meddling. she has turned off mademoiselle lafleur without so much as the shadow of a reason.”
“turned off mademoiselle!” cried vincent. “well, i don’t break my heart about that; but it was a bold stroke for a beginning.”
“then mrs. ventner.”
“mrs. ventner!” echoed vincent in amazement. “i should have as soon expected to hear of her moving the monument of london!”
“it won’t end here,” said lady selina oracularly, pursing in her thin lips, as if to restrain them from uttering some dread prognostication.
“is it really mrs. effingham who is turning everything topsy-turvy?” cried the schoolboy; “why, she looked as gentle as a dove!”
“a dove!—she’s a vulture,” said louisa.
“a vampire!” muttered her sister.
“what i cannot bear,” observed lady selina, “is the art with which she conceals her designs. smooth above, false beneath—wearing a mask of such perfect innocence, that she would take in any one who was unaccustomed to the ways of the world. i confess,” she added, in a tone of self-depreciation, “that i was deceived myself by her manner.”
“oh! if she’s artful, i shall hate her,” exclaimed vincent; “i can’t endure anything sly.”
“and so hypocritical,” chimed in louisa; “she would pass herself off for such a saint. i believe that poor dear mademoiselle’s grand offence was liking a french book that was a little witty—a book which mrs. effingham unluckily hit upon when she came spying into our school-room in her fawning, hypocritical manner.”
“and to bring in such an ally to support her, before she dared let us know what she had done.”
“yes,” said lady selina, “i am perfectly convinced—and i am one not often mistaken—that the arrival of captain thistlewood was a preconcerted arrangement.”
“captain thistlewood—who may he be?” inquired vincent.
“mrs. effingham’s uncle,” replied louisa. “the funniest old quiz—”
“the most blustering savage—”
“a low, vulgar fellow,” joined in lady selina; “one who thinks that he may swagger in a gentleman’s house as if he were on the deck of a whaler.”
“and does papa suffer it?” exclaimed vincent.
“mr. effingham is infatuated, quite infatuated,” said the lady, apparently addressing the fire and not any one present, and speaking so low, that vincent had to lean forward in order to catch her accents. “i do not know why it should be—i do not pretend to guess, but he certainly has not been like the same man ever since his second marriage.”
“papa has grown much graver,” observed louisa.
“and sadder,” joined in arabella.
lady selina only uttered an “ah!” with a slight jerk of the head; but what a world of meaning was condensed into the brief exclamation! compassion for the infatuated husband, contempt for the man?uvring wife, sympathy with the persecuted children. it was the sigh of wisdom and experience over what was wrong in the world in general, and in the effingham family in particular.
it is no wonder that vincent was not proof against the contagion of prejudice, hatred, and malice, when entering the scene where they all were rife. he threw himself, heart and soul, into the cause of the insurgents, in the war of independence; and determined, with all the vehemence of boyhood, to oppose his step-mother in everything, and not to be daunted by the “swaggering bully,” whom she had so cunningly brought to london to aid her in tyrannizing over his sisters, and altering all the good old customs of the house.
clemence sat lonely and heavy-hearted in her own room, her eyelids swollen with weeping. she felt so unwilling to face the family at the approaching meal, that twice her hand was on the bell-rope, to summon a servant to convey the message that, having a severe headache, she would not come down to luncheon. the excuse would have been a true one, for her temples throbbed painfully, and a weight seemed to press on her brain; but a little reflection induced clemence to change her intention. when a trial is to be faced, the sooner and the more boldly that it is faced the better; the nettle-leaves grasped by a firm hand are less likely to sting than when touched by a timid and shrinking finger. there would be moral cowardice in secluding herself from envious eyes and bitter tongues, which would only serve to encourage malice. but clemence’s strongest incentive was consideration for her uncle, who might return early, and who must not be left to face the enemy alone; so she washed all trace of tears from her eyes, and descended at the summons of the gong. clemence was glad to find that captain thistlewood was yet out on his exploring expedition.
lady selina did not please to appear at table. mrs. effingham breathed more freely in her absence. but the meal was a very uncomfortable one, as must ever be the case where hatred and strife are guests at the board. hardly a word was spoken to clemence, but many were spoken at her; every effort which she made to commence conversation ended in making her more painfully aware of her position in regard to her husband’s children. even her meek and quiet spirit might have been roused to anger, had not the recollection of her debt, of the confession of extravagance to be made to mr. effingham, rendered her too much dissatisfied with herself to be easily stirred up to indignation against others.
clemence would willingly have taken an airing in her carriage during the brief hours of the winter’s afternoon—the rapid motion, the freedom from vexatious interruptions, would have been welcome to her harassed mind; but lady selina was certain to require a drive, and, as usual, it was yielded up to her by mrs. effingham, rather as a matter of right than of courtesy. clemence contented herself with a rapid, solitary walk in the square.
the air was intensely cold, but its freshness braced and invigorated her spirits, and helped to restore them to their wonted healthy tone. the dark clouds which flitted across the sky, the leafless trees whose dark branches waved in the gale, in their very wintry dreariness spoke to the young heart of hope. those clouds would soon be succeeded by sunshine. spring would clothe those bare boughs with beauty, the piercing blast would change to the soft zephyr beneath the genial influence of a milder season! and were not bright days in store for herself! clemence struggled to throw off her depression, made earnest resolutions, breathed silent prayers, and determined not yet to despair even of conquering hatred by the power of gentleness, and prejudice by the strength of patience.
“there goes one of fortune’s favourites!” remarked lady praed to her daughter, as, driving through belgrave square, she recognized mrs. effingham; “young, lovely, rich, with good health, good establishment, good position—she has everything that the world can give. i should think that mrs. effingham must be one of the happiest beings to be found on the face of the earth!”
