"Confound the old aunt," said he, as he sat down to the table in the dining-room to his mathematical papers, "why did she not stick to the tallow-chandling, instead of coming here? Don't you think, Barton, our respected governors ought to pay less for our coaching on account of the drag? Of course we really pay something extra on her account; but, generally speaking, you know an irremovable nuisance would diminish the value of an estate, and I think a coach with an irremovable drag ought to fetch less than a coach without enc.u.mbrances."

"I daresay you are right," said Barton. "The two women will ruin Porky between them. The quant.i.ty of donkey chaises they require is something awful. To be sure the hill is rather steep in hot weather."

"Yes," said Glenville, "they began by trying one chaise between them, ride and tie; but Mrs. Porkington always would ride the first half of the way, and so Miss Candlish only rode the last quarter, until at last the first half grew to such enormous proportions that it caused a difference between the ladies, and Porkington had to allow two donkey chaises. How they do squabble, to be sure, about which of the two it really is who requires the chaise!"

"I can't help thinking Socrates was a fool to want to be killed when he had done nothing to deserve it," said Thornton, with a yawn, as he put down his book.

"Yes," said Glenville, "nowadays a man expects to take his whack first--I mean to hit some man on the head, or stab some woman in the breast, first. Then he professes himself quite ready for the consequences, and poetic justice is satisfied."

"How a man can put the square root of minus three eggs into a basket, and then give five to one person, and half the remainder and the square of the whole, divided by twelve, and so on, I never could understand; but perhaps the answer is wrong, I mean the square root of minus three."

"Oh, if that is your answer, Barton," said Glenville, "you are fairly floored. Take care you don't get an answer of that sort--a facer, I mean--from the 'pretty fisher maiden.'"

"Don't chaff, Glenville," cried Barton; "you are always talking some folly or other."

"Well, well, let us have some beer and a pipe.

'He, who would shine and petrify his tutor, Should drink draught Allsopp from its native pewter.'

We shall all go to the dance to-night, I suppose--Thornton, of course, lured by the two Will-o-the-wisps in Miss Delamere's black eyes."

"Go, and order the beer, d.i.c.k," said Thornton, "and come back a wiser, if not a sadder man." d.i.c.k procured the beer; and, it being now twelve o'clock at noon, pipes were lit, and papers and books remained in abeyance, though not absolutely forgotten. At half-past twelve Mr.

Porkington looked in timidly to see how work was progressing, to a.s.sist in the cla.s.sics, and to disentangle the mathematics; but the liberal sciences were so besmothered with tobacco smoke and so bespattered with beer, that the poor little man did not even dare to come to their a.s.sistance; but coughed, and smiled, and said feebly that he would come again when the air was a little clearer.

"Upon my word, it is too bad," said Barton. "Many fellows would not stand it. I declare I won't smoke any more this morning."

The rest followed the good example. Pipes were extinguished, and Glenville was deputed to go and tell the tutor that the room was clear of smoke. They were not wicked young men, but I don't think their mothers and sisters were at all aware of that state of life into which a love of ease and very high spirits had called their sons and brothers.

CHAPTER III.--THE VISITORS.

Babbicombe was full. The lodgings were all taken. There were still bills in the windows of a few of the houses in the narrower streets of the little town announcing that the apartments had a "good sea view." The disappointed visitor, however, upon further investigation, would discover that by standing on a chair in the attic it might be possible to obtain a glimpse of the topmasts of the schooners in the harbour, or the furthest circle of the distant ocean. Mr. and Mrs. Delamere, with their two daughters, occupied lodgings facing the sea. Next door but one were our friends, Colonel and Mrs. Bagshaw. Two Irish captains, O'Brien and Kelly, were stopping at the Bull Hotel, in the High Street. On the side of the hill in our row lived the two beautiful Misses Bankes with their parents and the younger olive branches, much snubbed by those who had "come out" into blossom. The visitors' doctor also lived in our row, and a young landscape painter (charming, as they all are) had a room somewhere, but I never could quite make out where it was or how he lived.

"There are your friends the Delameres," cried Glenville to Thornton, as we all lounged down one afternoon, not long after our arrival, to the parade, where the little discordant German band was playing. "Looking for you, too, I think," added he.

"I am sure they are not looking at all," said Thornton.

"Why, not now," said Glenville; "their books have suddenly become interesting, but I vow I saw Mrs. Delamere's spygla.s.s turned full upon us a minute ago." We all four stepped from the parade upon the rocks, and approached the Delameres' party, who were seated on rugs and shawls spread upon the huge dry rocks overlooking the deep, clear water which lapped underneath with a gentle and regular plash and sucking sound. It was a brilliant day. Not a cloud was in the sky, and the blue-green seas lay basking in the sunshine. A brisk but gentle air had begun to crisp the top of the water, making it sparkle and bubble; and there was just visible a small silver cord of foam on the coast line of dark crags. A white sail or a brown, here and there, dotted about the s.p.a.ce of ocean, gleamed in the light of the noon-day sun. Porpoises rolled and gamboled in the bay, and the round heads of two or three swimmers from the bathing cove appeared like corks upon the surface of the water. Half lost in the hazy horizon, a dim fairy island hung between sky and ocean; while overhead flew the milk-white birds, whose presence inland is said to presage stormy weather.

"What was Miss Delamere reading?"

"Oh, only Hallam's _Const.i.tutional History_."

"Great Heavens!" whispered Glenville to me, "think of that!"

"Do you like it?" asked Thornton.

"Well, I can't say I do, but I suppose I ought. My mother wanted me to bring it."

"I think it must be very dull," said Thornton, "though I have never tried it. I have just finished Kingsley's _Two Years Ago_. It is awfully good. May I lend it to you?"

"Oh, I do so like a good novel when I can get it, but I am afraid I mayn't."

"What is that, Flo?" asked her mother. "You know I do not approve of novels, except, of course, Sir Walter's. My daughters, Mr. Thornton, have, I hope, been brought up very differently from most young ladies. I always encourage them to read such works as are likely to tend to the improvement of their understanding and the cultivation of their taste. I always choose their books for them."

"Nonsense, my dear," said Mr. Delamere, "if Mr. Thornton recommends the book, Flo can have it. I know nothing of books, sir, and care less; but if you say it is a good book, that is sufficient."

"Oh, quite so indeed," exclaimed Mrs. Delamere, "if Mr. Thornton recommends the book. My daughter Florence has too much imagination, dear child, and we have to be very careful. May I inquire the name of the work which you recommend?"

She called everything a work.

"Oh, only _Two Years Ago_, by Kingsley," said Thornton.

"Ah!" said Mrs. Delamere, "a delightful writer. The Rev. Charles Kingsley was a man whom I unfeignedly admire. Perhaps I might not altogether approve of his writings for young persons, but for those whose minds have been matured by a considerable acquaintance with our literature it is, of course, different. He is a bold and fearless thinker. He is not fettered and tied down by those barriers which impede the speculations of other writers."

"Off she goes!" whispered Glenville to me, "broken her knees over the first metaphor. She will be plunging wildly in the ditch directly, and never fairly get out of it for about an hour and a half. Let us escape while we can." We rose and left Mrs. Delamere explaining to Thornton how darling Florence and dearest Beatrix were all that a fond and intellectual mother could desire. She was anxious to be thought to be trembling on the verge of atheism, to which position her highly-gifted intelligence quite ent.i.tled her; while, at the same time, her strong judgment and moral virtues enabled her to a.s.sist in supporting the orthodox faith. The younger Miss Delamere (Beatrix) was doing one of those curious pieces of work in which ladies delight, which appear to be designed for no particular purpose, and which, curiously enough, are always either a little more or less than half finished. I think she very seldom spoke. She was positively crushed by that most superior person, her mother. Flo was gazing abstractedly into the sea, hearing her mother but not listening, while Thornton was seated a foot or two below her, gazing up into her deep-blue eyes, shaded by her large hat and dark hair, as happy and deluded as a lunatic who thinks himself monarch of the world.

The Squire said he would join us. I expect his wife rather bored the old gentleman. We all sauntered up to the little crush of people who were listening (or not listening) to the discordant sounds of the German band.

Here we found the whole tribe of Bankes' and the two Irish captains, one standing in front of each beautiful Miss Bankes; and a little further removed from this party were Colonel and Mrs. and Miss Bagshaw, with the doctor's son. Above the cliff, on a slope of gra.s.s, lay the young artist, smoking his pipe and enjoying the scenery.

"I hope you intend to honour the a.s.sembly Wooms with your pwesence this evening," drawled Captain Kelly to the elder Miss Bankes--the dark one with the single curl hanging down her back. Her sister wore two light ones, and it puzzled us very much to account for the difference in number, and even in colour, for the complexions were the same. Was Glenville justified in surmising that the art of the contrivance was to prove that the curls were natural and indigenous, for if false, he said, surely they would be expected to wear two or one each.

"My sister and I certainly intend going this evening," replied the young lady, "but really I hear they are very dull affairs."

"They will be so no longer," said he.

"Well, I suppose we must do something in this dreadful little place to keep up our spirits."

"Yes, I must own it is very dull here, and I certainly should not have come had not a little bird told me at Mrs. Cameron's dance who was coming here," said the Captain, with a languishing air.

"I am sure I said nothing about it," said Miss Bankes, poutingly.

"Beauty attracts like a magnet, Miss Bankes, and you must not be angry with a poor fellow for what can't be helped."

"Very well, now you are come, you must be very good, and keep us all amused."

"I will endeavour to do my best," said the gallant soldier.

"Bagshaw, come here!" shouted Mrs. Bagshaw right athwart the parade, startling several of the performers in the band, and drawing all eyes towards her. "Bagshaw, behave yourself like a gentleman. Don't leave me, sir; I should be ashamed to let the people see me following that woman. It's disgraceful, mean, and disgusting."

Bagshaw came back, looking ridiculous. He hated to look ridiculous, as who does not? He approached his wife, and said in a low, but angry tone, "You are making a fool of yourself; the people will think you are mad; and they are not far wrong, as I have known to my cost this twenty years."

Porkington, wife, and drag had just pa.s.sed up the parade.

"I saw you, I tell you I saw you," she went on excitedly. "You were sneaking away from my side--you know you were. Don't laugh at me, Mr.

Bagshaw, for I won't have it. I don't care who hears me," she cried in a louder voice, "all the world shall hear how I am treated."