Meanwhile, Hargrave, having accompanied Mabel home, immediately resigned her to all the discomforts of her situation, while he went to seek an interview with Mrs. Villars.

CHAPTER X.

Unfaithful one! from seed of tares No golden grain can spring: Unhappy one! the wind, once sown, Shall but the whirlwind bring.

CULVER ALLEN.

Amongst all the curses p.r.o.nounced against the rebellious Israelites, few, perhaps, in reality far exceeded that one--"Cursed shalt thou be when thou comest in." It struck to the very heart of domestic peace, destroying that sanctuary, which, dark as the world around may be, we look to as a shelter and a solace. If the curse be there, what other blessing can reach us with any effect!

Such was the punishment which the cautious, wily woman of the world had been so carefully storing up for herself--for this she had chained her own temper--for this she had submitted to many weary vexations--for this she had been lavish in indulgence, even when her tired spirit would have willingly--so she believed--have turned from the cunning and fatiguing artifices of perpetual deceit--for this she had entered "into the fields of the fatherless," to find, only too late, that "their Redeemer is indeed mighty."

The curse for which she had so strenuously laboured, had entered into her very household, and her own daughters were turned against her.

Colonel Hargrave found Mrs. Villars in tears when he went to explain his wishes, and the reasons which led him to desire an early and private marriage.

"Take her when you like, and the sooner the better," exclaimed the goaded woman; "I care not when, and I only wish you could take away the ill she has brought with her."

Colonel Hargrave, who was accustomed to nothing but flattery in that house, felt a little surprise at the boldness with which the veil was now thrown aside.

"I hope," he said, at length, "that you will allow her to remain with you for the next three weeks. I wish this as a favour, because I would not have her forced to seek the protection even of old friends, at such a time--but I may as well add, that I know as well as yourself how little you have done your duty to your sister's orphan, and I make this the only condition which will force me to keep silence on the subject."

"Give me that promise and you shall not have cause to complain," said Mrs. Villars, apprehensively.

"It is yours," he returned, with great self-possession, which contrasted well with her pale face, and conscience stricken manner. "It is my particular wish," he added, "that our marriage should be as simple as possible, on account of the circ.u.mstances, which attend it. Any undue display would only hurt Mabel's feelings, as her year of mourning is not ended; but alone and friendless as she is, without a home at command, I say, with no hesitation, that the only thing she can do is, to accept that one which will ever hold her as its most honored mistress. But as even a private marriage may put you to some inconvenience, you must allow me the pleasure and privilege of providing against it."

As he said this, he placed a purse upon the table, which Mrs. Villars greedily laid her hands upon, and then he left the room, wondering, almost with some amus.e.m.e.nt, at himself, for the pique he felt at the sudden withdrawal of the adulation to which he had been accustomed, even though he had always seen its hollowness.

As he went down stairs to leave the house, for he had already announced his intention of removing to the White Lion, he met Lucy coming up, with such a bright blush upon her cheek, and looking so prettily agitated, that he stopped to enquire if any thing were the matter.

"Oh, I want Mabel--where is she--what have you done with her?"

"She went up stairs to take her bonnet off, and I think she will be glad of your company, to rouse her from certain little fears of a ceremony not very distant."

"Very well then, I will go to her," said Lucy, blushing yet more, and running past him. As he went on, he met Clair, coming from the study, and, as their destination was the same, they walked off arm-in-arm, talking of something which appeared entirely to engross them, till they reached the hotel, where they had dinner together.

"Oh, Mabel," said Lucy, when she had found her sitting in her own little room, "can you find time to think with me for one minute?"

"Of course I can," said Mabel, making her sit down on the trunk beside her.

"This dear old trunk, how I shall always love it," said Lucy, "how often we have sat upon it talking together; and to think of the trouble we had to shut it up, only last night, and how miserable we were then, and how happy we are now." She hid her blushing face on Mabel's shoulder as she went on. "You know I have such a strange thing to tell you. While you were out, I went into the study to find papa to get him to walk, and there was Captain Clair, talking to him; so directly I came in, up gets papa, and, saying he has something very particular to see done before he goes out, makes me promise to wait for him, and then gives me such an affectionate kiss, and hurries off--cunning papa--and then what do you think happens."

"I think I can guess," said Mabel, with a kiss and a smile.

"No, I am sure you cannot. Arthur told me, Captain Clair, I mean, that he had been talking to papa about me, and that he loved me now, though he once thought he could love no one but you, and indeed, dear Mabel, he spoke so kindly and affectionately that--"

"I understand you love," said Mabel, embracing her, "I thought so--I hoped so a long time since."

"You thought so," said Lucy, "impossible! I never could even have dreamt of such a thing yesterday."

"I tell you so," replied her cousin, "because I always knew his love for me only arose from the enthusiasm of circ.u.mstances; while those same circ.u.mstances only made him disapprove of you, as much as you did of yourself. I knew he could not see you so changed without really loving you."

"And do you think I shall ever be good enough for him?"

"Only keep as you are, and he will be quite satisfied."

"And, do you know that the doctors say, that if he returns to India it will kill him; and he has been for a long time wishing to become a clergyman; and now he has quite made up his mind, and he has entered his name at the college, at Dublin, which is the easiest way he says."

"That will be very, very nice, for we shall keep you both with us,"

exclaimed Mabel. "I am so very, very happy."

"And," almost whispered Lucy, "he so much wishes to be married on the same day that you and Henry are; but I hardly know whether mamma will consent."

"Oh, I dare say she will," said Mabel, "and I am glad of it for your sake."

Further conversation was interrupted by the dressing bell, and Lucy hurried away.

As Mabel had antic.i.p.ated, there was little difficulty in getting Mrs.

Villars's consent, when it was formally demanded by Clair, for in this piece of unexpected good fortune she hoped to find, at least a temporary respite, from the malice of her two disappointed children. In this, however, she was mistaken, for the marriage of their sister was no satisfaction to their jealous minds, and they did not fail to show their impression of their mother's injustice, on every occasion, and quite destroyed the pleasure she would have taken in providing Lucy's _trousseau_.

Mr. Villars looked upon the marriages as peculiar pet schemes of his own, and laid aside his writings to aid Mabel and Lucy in the choice of dresses and laces, with the most perfect good-humour and enjoyment. And when Lucy spoke with regret of leaving him, and felt half inclined to delay her marriage, for his sake, he would not hear of it, declaring that he should keep up a constant correspondence with both, and whenever he felt dull, if it were possible now that he had so much to do and to think of, he should run over and see them, wherever they were, and so recruit his spirits. For the present, he was almost their constant companion, for both Hargrave and Clair had so much to do, in a little time, that they had very little leisure at their disposal. There were settlements to be drawn, and Hargrave's was a very long one, licenses to procure, and a great many things besides, which, on such an occasion, were of no small importance. Besides which they were planning a visit together to Aston.

On the afternoon before they started, however, they accompanied Mr.

Villars and his fair companions on a shopping expedition, and a pleasant afternoon they managed to spend. Hargrave, too, had his purchases to make, which he did with some pride in his own taste, of some beautiful Irish poplins, which he ordered to be directed, with his compliments, to Mrs. and the Misses Villars, together with some lace scarfs, which he thought would look very pretty at the wedding.

In due time they were delivered, and opened with much pleasure by Mrs.

Villars and her daughter Selina, who seemed as tranquilly placid as ever, as if determined to find pleasure herself, whatever happened. She was just in the act of gathering the material in her fingers to see how well it would look made up, when Caroline entered.

"What is all this?" she cried, looking round upon Hargrave's present.

"Oh, my dear," said her mother, anxiously, "these beautiful poplins are from Henry Hargrave, who begs our acceptance of them, and hopes we will wear them at the wedding."

"And what do you mean to do with them?" enquired Caroline, looking at her fiercely.

"Why to wear them, of course, my dear; will you not do the same?"

"Not I, neither will you; I will have no such cringing ways done within my knowledge." Here she looked significantly at her mother, and then walking to the table, she began, deliberately, to refold the dresses, which they suffered her to do without interruption, hoping that she was relenting towards them. But when she had carefully folded every rumpled yard of the dresses, she placed them as carefully in their separate papers, and then tying them altogether, she wrote on the outside, and rang the bell.

"What are you doing, dear Cary?" cried Selina.

"You will see," said Caroline, and at that moment, their man-servant appearing, she turned to him, and said--"Take that parcel to Colonel Hargrave, at the White Lion, with mamma's compliments."

"Stop a moment, my dear, do consider," said her mother.

"Ma'am," replied her daughter, "no consideration is necessary. James, take the parcel."