But I understand it very well, and it throws a pretty clear light upon our interview last night. I wasn't quite prepared for such wise counsel as you gave me then. I can see now whence came the strength of your wisdom. It is a victory worth achieving, Miss Lovel. It means Arden Court.--Yes, that's a very good portrait, isn't it?" he went on in a louder key, looking up at a somewhat dingy picture, as a little cl.u.s.ter of ladies came towards the table; "a genuine Sir Joshua, I believe."

And then came the usual good-nights, and Clarissa went away to her room with those words in her ears, "It means Arden Court."

Could he be cruel enough to think so despicably of her as this? Could he suppose that she wanted to attract the attention of a man old enough to be her father, only because he was rich and the master of the home she loved?

The fact is that Mr. Fairfax--not too good or high-principled a man at the best of times, and yet accounting himself an honourable gentleman--was angry with himself and the whole world, most especially angry with Clarissa, because she had shown herself strong where he had thought to find her weak. Never before had his vanity been so deeply wounded. He had half resolved to sacrifice himself for this girl--and behold, she cared nothing for him!

CHAPTER XV.

CHIEFLY PATERNAL.

The preparations for the wedding went on. Clarissa's headache did not develop into a fever, and she had no excuse for flying from Hale Castle.

Her father, who had written Lady Laura Armstrong several courteous little notes expressing his grat.i.tude for her goodness to his child, surprised Miss Lovel very much by appearing at the Castle one fine afternoon to make a personal acknowledgment of his thankfulness. He consented to remain to dinner, though protesting that he had not dined away from home--except at his brother-in-law's--for a s.p.a.ce of years.

"I am a confirmed recluse, my dear Lady Laura, a worn-out old bookworm, with no better idea of enjoyment than a good fire and a favourite author,"

he said; "and I really feel myself quite unfitted for civilised society.

But you have a knack at commanding, and to hear is to obey; so if you insist upon it, and will pardon my morning-dress, I remain."

Mr. Lovel's morning-dress was a suit of rather clerical-looking black from a fashionable West-end tailor--a costume that would scarcely outrage the proprieties of a patrician dinner-table.

"Clarissa shall show you the gardens between this and dinner-time,"

exclaimed Lady Laura. "It's an age since you've seen them, and I want to know your opinion of my improvements. Besides, you must have so much to say to her."

Clarissa blushed, remembering how very little her father ever had to say to her of a confidential nature, but declared that she would be very pleased to show him the gardens; so after a little more talk with my lady they set out together.

"Well, Clary," Mr. Lovel began, with his kindest air, "you are making a long stay of it."

"Too long, papa. I should be so glad to come home. Pray don't think me ungrateful to Lady Laura, she is all goodness; but I am so tired of this kind of life, and I do so long for the quiet of home."

"Tired of this kind of life! Did ever any one hear of such a girl! I really think there are some people who would be tired of Paradise. Why, child, it is the making of you to be here! If I were as rich as--as that fellow Granger, for instance; confound Croesus!--I couldn't give you a better chance. You must stay here as long as that good-natured Lady Laura likes to have you; and I hope you'll have booked a rich husband before you come home. I shall be very much disappointed if you haven't."

"I wish you would not talk in that way, papa; nothing would ever induce me to marry for money."

"_For_ money; no, I suppose not," replied Mr. Lovel testily; "but you might marry a man _with_ money. There's no reason that a rich man should be inferior to the rest of his species. I don't find anything so remarkably agreeable in poor men."

"I am not likely to marry foolishly, papa, or to offend you in that way,"

Clarissa answered with a kind of quiet firmness, which her father inwardly execrated as "infernal obstinacy;" "but no money in the world would be the faintest temptation to me."

"Humph! Wait till some Yorkshire squire offers you a thousand a year pin-money; you'll change your tone then, I should hope. Have you seen anything of that fellow Granger, by the way?"

"I have seen a good deal of Mr. and Miss Granger, papa. They have been staying here for a fortnight, and are here now."

"You don't say so! Then I shall be linked into an intimacy with the fellow.

Well, it is best to be neighbourly, perhaps. And how do you like Mr.

Granger?"

"He is not a particularly unpleasant person, papa; rather stiff and matter-of-fact, but not ungentlemanly; and he has been especially polite to me, as if he pitied me for having lost Arden."

In a general way Mr. Lovel would have been inclined to protest against being pitied, either in his own person or that of his belongings, by such a man as Daniel Granger. But in his present humour it was not displeasing to him to find that the owner of Arden Court had been especially polite to Clarissa.

"Then he is really a nice fellow, this Granger, eh, Clary?" he said airily.

"I did not say nice, papa."

"No, but civil and good-natured, and that kind of thing. Do you know, I hear nothing but praises of him about Arden; and he is really doing wonders for the place. Looking at his work with an unjaundiced mind, it is impossible to deny that. And then his wealth!--something enormous, they tell me. How do you like the daughter, by the way?"

This question Mr. Lovel asked with something of a wry face, as if the existence of Daniel Granger's daughter was not a pleasing circ.u.mstance in his mind.

"Not particularly, papa. She is very good, I daresay, and seems anxious to do good among the poor; and she is clever and accomplished, but she is not a winning person. I don't think I could ever get on with her very well."

"That's a pity, since you are such near neighbours."

"But you have always avoided any acquaintance with the Grangers, papa,"

Clarissa said wonderingly.

"Yes, yes, naturally. I have shrunk from knowing people who have turned me out of house and home, as it were. But that sort of thing must come to an end sooner or later. I don't want to appear prejudiced or churlish; and in short, though I may never care to cross that threshold, there is no reason Miss Granger and you should not be friendly. You have no one at Arden of your own age to a.s.sociate with, and a companion of that kind might be useful. Has the girl much influence with her father, do you think?"

"She is not a girl, papa, she is a young woman. I don't suppose she is more than two or three-and-twenty, but no one would ever think of calling Miss Granger a girl."

"You haven't answered my question."

"I scarcely know how to answer it. Mr. Granger seems kind to his daughter, and she talks as if she had a great deal of influence over him; but one does not see much of people's real feelings in a great house like this. It is 'company' all day long. I daresay Mr. and Miss Granger are very fond of one another, but--but--they are not so much to each other as I should like you and me to be, papa," Clarissa added with a sudden boldness.

Mr. Lovel coughed, as if something had stuck in his throat.

"My dear child, I have every wish to treat you fairly--affectionately, that is to say," he replied, after that little nervous cough; "but I am not a man given to sentiment, you see, and there are circ.u.mstances in my life which go far to excuse a certain coldness. So long as you do not ask too much of me--in the way of sentiment, I mean--we shall get on very well, as we have done since your return from school. I have had every reason to be satisfied."

This was not much, but Clarissa was grateful even for so little.

"Thank you, papa," she said in a low voice; "I have been very anxious to please you."

"Yes, my dear, and I hope--nay, am sure--that your future conduct will give me the same cause for satisfaction; that you will act wisely, and settle the more difficult questions of life like a woman of sense and resolution.

There are difficult questions to be solved in life, you know, Clary; and woe betide the woman who lets her heart get the better of her head!"

Clarissa did not quite understand the drift of this remark, but her father dismissed the subject in his lightest manner before she could express her bewilderment.

"That's quite enough serious talk, my dear," he said; "and now give me the _carte du pays_. Who is here besides these Grangers? and what little social comedies are being enacted? Your letters, though very nice and dutiful, are not quite up to the Horace-Walpole standard, and have not enlightened me much about the state of things."

Clarissa ran over the names of the Castle guests. There was one which she felt would be difficult to p.r.o.nounce, but it must needs come at last. She wound up her list with it: "And--and there are Lady Geraldine Challoner, and the gentleman she is going to marry--Mr. Fairfax."

To her extreme surprise, the name seemed to awaken some unwonted emotion in her father's breast.

"Fairfax!" he exclaimed; "what Fairfax is that? You didn't tell me whom Lady Geraldine was to marry when you told me you were to officiate as bridesmaid. Who is this Mr. Fairfax?"