Scenes and Characters, or, Eighteen Months at Beechcroft - Part 19
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Part 19

'Here they come,' said Lily; 'how Wat Greenwood is grinning at Rotherwood's jokes!'

'A happy day for Wat,' said Emily. 'He will be quite dejected if William is not at home next shooting season. He thinks you a degenerate Mohun, Claude.'

'He must comfort himself with Redgie,' said Claude.

'Rotherwood is only eager about shooting in common with everything else,' said Lily, 'but Redgie, I fear, will care for nothing else.'

Lord Rotherwood came in, accounting for being late, as, in pa.s.sing through a harvest field, he could not help attempting to reap. The Beechcroft farming operations had been his especial amus.e.m.e.nt from very early days, and his plans were numerous for farming on a grand scale as soon as he should be of age. His talk during dinner was of turnips and wheat, till at length Mr. Mohun asked him what he thought of the appearance of the castle. He said it was very forlorn; the rooms looked so dreary and deserted that he could not bear to be in them, and had been out of doors almost all the time. Indeed, he was afraid he had disappointed the housekeeper by not complimenting her as she deserved, for the freezing dismal order in which she kept everything. 'And really,' said he, 'I must go again to-morrow and make up for it, and Emily, you must come with me and try to devise something to make the unhappy place less like the abode of the Prince of the Black Islands.'

Emily willingly promised to go, and she went on talking to him, and telling him whom he was to meet on the next day, when an unusual silence making her look up, she beheld him more than half asleep.

Reginald fidgeted and sighed, and Maurice grew graver and graver as they thought of the wasps. Maurice wanted to take a nest entire, and began explaining his plan to Claude.

'You see, Claude, burning some straw and then digging, spoils the combs, as Wat does it; now I have got some puff-b.a.l.l.s and sulphur to put into the hole, and set fire to them with a lucifer match, so as to stifle the wasps, and then dig them out quietly to-morrow morning.'

'It is all of no use, if that Rotherwood will do nothing but sleep,'

said Reginald, in a disconsolate tone.

'You should not have made him get up at four,' said Emily.

'Who! I?' exclaimed the Marquis. 'I never was wider awake. What are you waiting for, Reginald? I thought you were going to take wasps' nests.'

'You are much too tired, I am sure,' said Emily.

'Tired! not in the least, I have done nothing to-day to tire me,'

said Lord Rotherwood, walking up and down the room to keep himself awake.

The whole party went out, and found Wat Greenwood waiting for them with a bundle of straw, a spade, and a little gunpowder. Maurice carried a basket containing all his preparations, on which Wat looked with supreme contempt, telling him that his puffs were too green to make a smeech. Maurice, not condescending to argue the point, ran on to a nest which Reginald had marked on one of the green banks of the ancient moat.

'Take care that the wasps are all come in; mind what you are about, Maurice,' called his father.

'Master Maurice,' shouted Wat, 'you had better take a green bough.'

'Never mind, Wat,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'he would not stay long enough to use it if he had it.'

Reginald ran after Maurice, who had just reached the nest.

'There is one coming in, the evening is so warm they are not quiet yet.'

'I'll quiet them,' said Maurice, kneeling down, and putting his first puff-ball into the hole.

Reginald stood by with a sly smile, as he pulled a branch off a neighbouring filbert-tree. The next moment Maurice gave a sudden yell, 'The wasps! the wasps!' and jumping up, and tripping at his first step, rolled down the bank, and landed safely at Lord Rotherwood's feet. The shouts of laughter were loud, but he regarded them not, and as soon as he recovered his feet, rushed past his sisters, and never stopped till he reached the house. Redgie stood alone, in the midst of a cloud of wasps, beating them off with a bough, roaring with laughter, and calling Wat to bring the straw to burn them.

'No, no, Redgie, come away, leave them for Maurice to try again,'

said his father.

'The brute, he stung me,' cried Reginald, knocking down a wasp or two as he came down. 'What is this?' added he, as he stumbled over something at the bottom of the slope. 'Oh! Maurice's basket; look here--laudanum--did he mean to poison the wasps?'

'No,' said Jane, 'to cure their stings.'

'The poor unhappy quiz!' cried Reginald.

While the others were busy over a nest, Mr. Mohun asked Emily how the boy got at the medicine chest. Emily looked confused, and said she supposed Jane had given him a bottle.

'Jane is too young to be trusted there,' said Mr. Mohun, 'I thought you knew better; do not let the key be out of your possession again.'

After a few more nests had been taken in the usual manner, they returned to the house. Maurice was lying on the sofa reading the Penny Magazine, from which he raised his eyes no more that evening, in spite of all the jokes which flew about respecting wounded knights, courage, and the balsam of Fierabras. He called Jane to teach her how flies were made, and as soon as tea was over he went to bed. Reginald, after many yawns, prepared to follow his example, and as he was wishing his sisters good-night, Emily said, 'Now, Redgie, do not go out at such a preposterous hour to-morrow morning.'

'What is that to you?' was Reginald's courteous inquiry.

'I do not wish to see every one fast asleep to-morrow evening,' said Emily, and she looked at her cousin, whose head was far back over his chair.

'He is a Trojan,' said Reginald.

'Is a Trojan better than a Spartan?' asked Ada, meditatively.

'Helen thought so,' said Claude.

'"When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war,"' muttered the Marquis.

'You are all talking Greek,' said Jane.

'Arabic,' said Claude.

As far as it could be comprehended, Lord Rotherwood's answer related to Maurice and the wasps.

'There,' said Emily, 'what is to be done if he is in that condition to-morrow?'

'I am not asleep; what makes you think I am?'

'I wish you would sit in that great chair,' said Emily, 'I am afraid you will break your neck; you look so uncomfortable, I cannot bear to see you.'

'I never was more comfortable in my life,' said Lord Rotherwood, asleep while finishing the sentence; but this time, happily with his elbows on the table, and his head in a safer position.

The next day was spent rather more rationally. Lord Rotherwood met with a book of Irish Tales, with which he became so engrossed that he did not like to leave it when Emily and Claude were ready to ride to Devereux Castle with him. When there he was equally eager and vehement about each matter that came under consideration, and so many presented themselves, that Emily began to be in agonies lest she should not be at home in time to dress and receive her guests. They did, however, reach the house before Lilias, who had been walking with Miss Weston, came in, and when she went upstairs, she found Emily full of complaints at the inconvenience of having no Rachel to a.s.sist her in dressing, and to see that everything was in order, and that Phyllis was fit to appear when she came down in the evening; but, by the a.s.sistance of Lily and Jane, she got over her troubles, and when she went into the drawing-room, she was much relieved to find her two gentlemen quite safe and dressed. She had been in great fear of Lord Rotherwood's straying away to join in some of Reginald's sports, and was grateful to the Irish book for keeping him out of mischief.

Emily was in her glory; it was the first large dinner-party since Eleanor had gone, and though she pitied herself for having the trouble of entertaining the people, she really enjoyed the feeling that she now appeared as the mistress of New Court, with her cousin, the Marquis, by her side, to show how highly she was connected. And everything went off just as could be wished. Lord Rotherwood talked intelligibly and sensibly, and Mr. Mohun's neighbour at dinner had a voice which he could hear. Lily's pleasure was not less than her sister's, though of a different kind. She delighted in thinking how well Emily did the honours, in watching the varied expression of Lord Rotherwood's animated countenance, in imagining Claude's forehead to be finer than that of any one else, and in thinking how people must admire Reginald's tall, active figure, and very handsome face. She was asked to play, and did tolerably well, but was too shy to sing, nor, indeed, was Reginald encouraging. 'What is the use of your singing, Lily? If it was like Miss Weston's, now--'

Reginald had taken a great fancy to Miss Weston; he stood by her all the evening, and afterwards let her talk to him, and then began to chatter himself, at last becoming so confidential as to impart to her the grand object of his ambition, which was to be taller than Claude!

The next morning Lord Rotherwood left Beechcroft, somewhat to Emily's relief; for though she was very proud of him, and much enjoyed the dignity of being seen to talk familiarly with him, yet, when no strangers were present, and he became no more than an ordinary cousin, she was worried by his incessant activity, and desire to see, know, and do everything as fast and as thoroughly as possible. She could not see the use of such vehemence; she liked to take things in a moderate way, and as Claude said, much preferred the pa.s.sive to the active voice. Claude, on the contrary, was ashamed of his const.i.tutional indolence, looked on it as a temptation, and struggled against it, almost envying his cousin his unabated eagerness and untiring energy, and liking to be with him, because no one else so effectually roused him from his habitual languor. His indolence was, however, so much the effect of ill health, that exertion was sometimes scarcely in his power, especially in hot weather, and by the time his brothers' studies were finished each day, he was unfit for anything but to lie on the gra.s.s under the plane-tree.

The days glided on, and the holidays came to an end; Maurice spent them in adding to his collection of insects, which, with Jane's a.s.sistance, he arranged very neatly; and Reginald and Phyllis performed several exploits, more agreeable to themselves than satisfactory to the more rational part of the New Court community.

At the same time, Reginald's devotion to Miss Weston increased; he never moved from her side when she sang, did not fail to be of the party when she walked with his sisters, offered her one of his own puppies, named his little ship 'Alethea,' and was even tolerably civil to Marianne.

At length the day of departure came; the boys returned to school, Claude joined Lord Rotherwood, and the New Court was again in a state of tranquillity.