TENNYSON.

The united taste of the whole family had not been exerted without effect--and their guests might well be delighted with the preparations which had been made for them.

On entering the house, tea and coffee waited them in the dining-room on the right hand, and, after an opportunity of taking this refreshment, they next ascended the staircase, which was brilliantly lighted, and ornamented with evergreens. This led to the ante-room, from which several doors opened on apartments all dedicated to the service of the evening; something, indeed, to the detriment of the family comfort.

There might be seen, evergreens of the richest varieties, which were intermingled with flowering and beautiful geraniums.

On the left, a door opened into the apartment chosen for the reception room, where was arranged everything that could minister to comfort. The softest couches, the most lounging easy chairs, worked ottomans, and foot-stools, which had occupied much of the sisters' time. This was intended for those chaperones, who, through the folding doors which led to the ball-room, preferred watching the dances, to joining in the whist parties; for wherever they were seated, the ever revolving waltz would be almost certain to bring to their view, those in whom they were most interested.

A more distant room, the one furthest removed from the sound of the music, was selected for a card-room.

But the ball-room had occupied most attention, and a brilliant effect it certainly presented, that evening. Colonel Hargrave had had so many expensive whims which no one hindered him from gratifying, and evidences of his expenditure or his taste might be seen in every part of the house that night. Round the room, seats were arranged for the dancers, which being here and there interrupted by evergreens, and hot-house plants, formed, as the sisters well knew agreeable opportunities for those _tete-a-tetes_ which they were so clever in sustaining.

Mrs. Villars looked forward to this evening with elation, but yet with some share of anxiety also. Nothing, she felt, but the complete success of her schemes could justify to her husband, the expenditure in which she had lately been so lavish, and, though she was indifferent to his censure in trifles, she feared to excite his serious displeasure by any great offence.

She was thinking of this as she stood with him and Hargrave, in the lounging room, where they waited to receive their guests, watching to observe the effect caused by Caroline's entrance.

"The girls are late," said, Mr. Villars, nervously consulting his watch, "it will be awkward if any one comes."

"I think I hear them, sir," said Hargrave.

At the same time the door opened, and the four sisters entered; even Maria looked well in the studied _neglige_ of her appearance, but Caroline looked brilliant as she entered, with her majestic steady step, and well-pleased countenance; while the pure white flowers for which she had so bitterly contended, rested in all their simplicity upon her haughty breast.

"Yon have not forgotten your promise, I hope," she said, playfully resting her fan upon Hargrave's arm, "of inviting a great many of your gentlemen friends."

"Oh, no, I have selected a few of my acquaintances, but with care; for when entrusted with the privilege of affording introductions to ladies, one cannot be too careful."

"Fudge," exclaimed Maria; "as if it signified who one waltzed with for an evening."

"What," exclaimed Hargrave, "does it not signify whose arm encircles your waist?"

"Oh, come, do not squabble, do you know we are to have the pleasure of Perfection's company, to-night; I should not be surprised to see her come down with a dress up to the throat, and down to the wrist, a walking sermon on the degeneracy of the age."

"Really, mamma," said Caroline, smiling at the latter remark, "you ought to have ascertained if she had a dress fit to appear in."

"Mabel is always dressed well," said Lucy, "though she seems to take so little pains about it."

"Oh, perfect, most perfect," said Maria, holding up her hands and raising her eyes in affected admiration, "Henry, do you not appear very small in her company."

"Perfectly infantine," he returned, with a good-natured smile; "but hush, here she comes."

Maria took up the hush, and repeated it so loudly that it deadened every other sound, and caused a blush to mantle on Mabel's cheek, as she entered. She looked a little timid as she advanced into the little circle.

To tell the truth, her garret toilet had had only the a.s.sistance of the good-natured cook, who, alone, in the general bustle, had found time to think of her; yet there was not a single fault to be found with it, and Caroline bit her lip with vexation, when, instead of the ill-dressed bashfulness she had expected, she felt the influence of a something wholly indescribable, yet all fascinating, in her appearance, as she quietly stood by her uncle's side.

As if seized by sudden impulse, Hargrave stepped forward, and requested the favour of her hand for the first dance. Mabel replied that she did not intend dancing at all that evening, and, though, apparently dissatisfied, he was compelled to submit.

Mrs. Villars drew him a little aside, for Caroline's glowing eyes preluded a storm.

"You know," she said, laying her hand confidentially on his arm, "that Caroline has been hoping for the pleasure of opening the evening with you--you will not disappoint her?"

"Pray tell her I shall be very happy," he replied, a little peevishly.

"Caroline, my love," she said, immediately turning to her daughter, "Henry feared you were engaged, but as I do not think you are, I have ventured to promise him your hand for the first."

Hargrave could scarcely repress a smile at this adroit falsehood, and as he seconded her request, Caroline graciously consented.

Mabel felt slightly annoyed, she scarce knew why--perhaps because she had been too pleased a moment before--at seeing how quick the cloud pa.s.sed from Hargrave's brow: it never occurred to her to doubt the truth of what Mrs. Villars said.

They were, however, no longer left to their own entertainment, for guests began to crowd in, till the rooms were filled to overflowing; young and old, pleased, to-night, with the entertainment they would criticise on the morrow, prepared to enjoy themselves.

Upon the princ.i.p.al sofa in the reception-room, two old ladies were seated, the Lady Scratchal and the dowager Mrs. Pierce, who, from some reason or other, claimed a double share of respect in the houses where they visited, partly, perhaps, because they both possessed unlimited power over the large fortunes they enjoyed, and appeared to have not altogether determined how to dispose of them. There is an instinctive power in wealth, which the world often feels without stopping to a.n.a.lyse, and this these two ladies exercised with ready tact over their acquaintance.

"No one gets up a party like Mrs. Villars," observed Mrs. Pierce to her friend.

"But I think there is a great deal more of display than there ought to be," returned Lady Scratchal, whose hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, formed a melancholy contrast to the sparkling diamonds which encircled her wrinkled brow, and the youthful hair which surmounted it.

"Ah!" said Mrs. Pierce, "I am afraid, she is silly enough to reckon on the rich colonel for her Caroline--but I am greatly mistaken if there is any love there."

"Men did not make love in that way, in my time, certainly," observed Lady Scratchal, the ominous shake of her head covering the shades of many departed admirers.

"Well, and you know," observed Mrs. Pierce, "that I have my doubts about that other gentleman--we need not mention names--for you know who I mean, I am sure."

"With Lucy?" enquired her friend.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Pierce; "I am sadly afraid--"

She did not finish her sentence, but followed it up with many dreadful shakes of the head, and other symbolical actions, which Lady Scratchal seemed perfectly to understand.

Their attention was, however, diverted, by seeing Hargrave hurrying to the door to receive, with a hearty shake of the hand, a young man, who was entering with rather an abstracted air, till roused by the heartiness of his welcome, to which he immediately responded. Hargrave then hurried him to his hostess, who started, when she heard his name given as Captain Clair, yet concealed every sensation of annoyance, for fear of offending her wealthy relation. Mabel met him with unfeigned pleasure, and eagerly enquired for news of Aston, and her kind friends at the rectory; but Lucy having given him a trembling, feverish hand, for an instant, turned away, impatiently, and fixed her eyes upon the door.

It was so tantalising to see one after another enter, well-dressed, good-looking, and welcome to all but her. Her head was giddy with watching, and her ear had become so acute from listening, that she could distinguish footsteps on the stairs, from the hum of many voices, and the merry music which made her poor head ache.

How gladly, too, in the presence of Arthur Clair, would she have appeared the admired and loved of the far more talented Beauclerc.

Regardless of the eyes of the watchful dowagers, she thought and teased herself till her very beauty seemed to fade before the workings of her restless and ill-governed imagination. And Clair seemed to watch her with a pitiful expression--perhaps, he believed her as broken-hearted for him, as he was for Mabel. Enraged at this idea, she would accept the first partner, who presented himself, and suffer him to lead her to the giddy round, where, with excited, restless spirits, she would seem the merriest of them all; but tired, in a few minutes, she would take the first opportunity of returning to the lounging-room, and there, sinking into a chair, she would indulge in a fit of thought, more soothing from its very painfulness, than the merriment in which she had so lately joined.

She was sitting thus, late in the evening, under the severe, but unheeded scrutiny, of Lady Scratchal and her friend, when the well-known and long watched-for step was heard, and Beauclerc, looking more handsome and more pensive than ever, entered. Entirely forgetful of everything but the long hours of dreary monotony, which had preceded his coming, she started up, and her face was, in an instant, radiant with smiles, as she walked quickly across the room to meet him, extending her pretty hand with a mingling of playfulness and pleasure in her manner.

"Where have you been, truant?" she cried, suffering him to retain the hand which she had so warmly extended; "did you not know how dull everything would be without you?"

"Had I really guessed as much, I might have delayed the business which detained me, though at some inconvenience," he said, kindly, but gravely, leading her to one of the recesses, where he took a seat beside her.

"Ah," he added, thoughtfully, "you little know of how great a value your kindness has been to me--now, while my spirits seem to sink within me.

How should I ever have borne my heavy trial without such a sweet comforter, as you have proved yourself to be to me."

"Ah," said Lucy, her eyes falling beneath his anxious glance, "how proud I ought to be, to have been able to administer comfort to such a mind as yours."

"All the mental energy we possess," returned Beauclerc, in the same sad tone, "does not equal the magic of one kind word from a feeling woman."