 CHAPTER XXV It was the most unlucky moment for the weather to change, being the middle of July, and as near as possible to St. Swithins Day. But the season had been so delightful up to that time that nobody in Carlingford at least had any reason to complain. So far as Ms. Marge Banks was concerned, she was rather glad on the whole that the next day was wet and that she could not go out all the morning, nor was likely to be interrupted by visitors. She had all her plans to settle and mature for the great enterprise which she had taken in hand. By this time, so far from feeling any personal interest in the Archdeacon, or considering herself injured by his sudden desertion, that little episode had gone out of Lucila's mind as completely as if it had never been. In one point, however, Ms. Marge Banks' conviction remained firm. It was impressed upon her mind that Carlingford would not be made into a bishopric, or if made into a bishopric, that it was not Mr. Beverly who would be chosen to occupy the new sea. It was one of those instinctive certainties which are not capable of explanation, which was thus borne in upon her spirit, and she could not have felt more sure of it had she seen it under the queen's own hand and seal. While she went about her usual morning occupations, her mind was full of her great and novel undertaking. Mr. Beverly was not a man to be revolutionized in a moment, and many people would have shrunk from the attempt to work in a few days or weeks, with no better arms than those of acquaintance, a change which the influence of love had not been able to do in so many years. But it was not in Lucila's nature to be daunted by a difficulty so unimportant. There was, thank heaven, some difference between herself and the widow who, in a straight, could think of nothing better to do per soul than to faint, and Miss March Banks had the advantage of never as yet having been beaten, whereas Mrs. Mortimer had undergone numberless defeats, as was natural. The hardest matter in the whole business, however, was the identification of the Mr. Cabin, whom the Archdeacon thought he had seen in Carlingford, and was not afraid to speak of as a clever rascal and adventurer. Mr. Beverly had never seen the fellow again, as he had told Lucila, not many days back, and Miss March Banks had been unfaithfully glad to hear it, but now matters had changed. In the course of her reflections, she decided that it would now be better that these two men, if possible, should meet and recognize each other, and that the business should once for all be definitively settled. If all the offence he had committed against society was to have had a large sum of money left him by a childless old man, Lucila saw no reason why this mysterious culprit should conceal himself, and even if he had taken a little liberty with his name, that was not a crime. His name was his own, surely, if anything was his own. At the same time Miss March Banks took pains to impress upon herself, as it is to be hoped a friendly audience will also have the goodness to do, that she had no real foundation for her suspicions, as to the identity of this personage, and might turn out to be completely mistaken. He might have made no change whatever on his name. He might be flourishing in some other quarter of England or the world, with all his antecedents perfectly well known, and unconscious of anything to be shamed about. Which, to tell the truth, was, as Lucila confessed to herself, a much more likely hypothesis than the supposition which had taken such possession of her mind. But then Miss March Banks had a just faith in her instincts, and in those brief but telling pieces of evidence which supported her conclusion. She was thinking over this important branch of the subject with the greatest care and devotion when, looking out by chance into the rain, she saw the arch-deacon crossing the garden. But it was just as well that she thus had warning, and a moment to prepare for his visit. Not that Lucila was a person to be taken at disadvantage, but still, in a matter so practical and pressing, it was always better to be prepared. Mr. Beverly came in with an air and expression so different from that which he had born in their intercourse no farther gone than yesterday that, notwithstanding the corresponding devotion in her own mind, Miss March Banks could not but regard him with mingled admiration and surprise. She judged him as the general world so often judged herself, and gave him credit for skill and courage in taking his position. When the fact was he was only preoccupied and natural, and did not think of his position at all. It did not occur to the arch-deacon that he had sinned towards Lucila. He thought it right to explain to her his extreme surprise at the sight of Mrs. Mortimer, and possibly to make her aware at the same time of his grievances in so far as Mrs. Mortimer was concerned. But perhaps Mr. Beverly was, on the whole, innocent of those intentions which Mrs. Childley had attributed to him, and which even Lucila, more clear-sighted, had seen Donnie in their last interview, for, to be sure, this is one of the questions which the female intellect is apt to judge in a different light, from that in which it is regarded by a man. The arch-deacon accordingly came in preoccupied, and with a cloud on his brow, and not the smallest appearance of penitence or deprecation, by which demeanor he gained without deserving it the respect and to a certain extent the admiration of Lucila. His expression was not that of a man repentant, but of a man aggrieved. A cloud upon his countenance, and a certain air of offense and temper, and when he sat down he breathed a short impatient sigh. Thank you for receiving me so early, he said. I called yesterday afternoon, but found you out. You must have had a very particular business to take you out in that rain. Mr. Beverly continued, with subdued exasperation, for naturally being a clergyman, he was a little impatient to find, when it was he who wanted her, of his female friends, out of the way. Yes, said Lucila, who thought it was best to open her battery boldly and at once. I was spending the afternoon with poor Mrs. Mortimer, poor dear, she is so solitary. And to meet Mr. Beverly's ill temper, Miss Marge Banks put on her most heavenly air of sympathy, and rounded her words with a soft sigh, as different from his as a flute is from a trumpet. It was with an exclamation of impatience that the archdeacon replied. Poor Mrs. Mortimer, he cried. I don't know whether you are aware how much her obscenity has cost me, and herself I suppose, he added in a parenthesis. Not to depreciate your kindness, or the truly human and Christian way in which you have conducted yourself, fancy what my feelings naturally must have been to find her an object of charity, actually of charity. I don't mean to say, said Mr. Beverly, controlling himself, that it is degrading to accept succor when given as from man to man, quite the contrary, but you will excuse me from entering into the general question. She knew perfectly well that if I had known where she was, if she had consented to yield to me on one point, solely on one point, and she such an obstinate woman, said Miss Marge Banks with fine scorn, how could you ever think of such a thing? A woman that never gives in to anybody, if you knew her as well as I do. The archdeacon glanced up with a momentarily intense surprise, as if it was within the possibilities that such a change might have taken place in the widow's nature, and then he caught Lucilla's eye and grew red and more aggrieved than ever. Mrs. Mortimer happens to be a relative of mine, he said, in his authoritative voice. I have known her from her youth. I am better instructed in all her affairs than she can possibly be. When I urge her to any step, however much it may be, against her inclinations, she ought to know that it can only be for her good. I beg your pardon, Miss Marge Banks. It will give me great grief to find that you, upon whose superior good sense I have so much calculated, should support her in her folly. I know how much she owes you. Oh no, she does not owe me anything, said Lucilla. It was just my luck, you know. I knew she would turn out to be a lady. I don't want to stand up for her if she's wrong, but I have only heard her side. When you tell about it, I shall be able to form an opinion. Miss Marge Banks added prudently, for, of course, everything has two sides. Most things, said Mr. Beverly. But this is precisely one of the things which have not two sides. Nothing except some sort of infatuation or other, but never mind, you shall hear the facts, said the Archdeacon, once more making an effort upon himself. Her uncle, Mr. Garrett, was above eighty. Why Providence should have let him live to such an age to do so much mischief, heaven alone knows. Some different rule seems to exist up there about those matters, from what we find to answer on earth. The broad churchman said, with a certain air of disapproval, he had this young fellow to see him and then to live with him, and took some sort of idiotic fancy to him. And when the will was made, it was found that, with the exception of a small sum to Helen, everything was left to this imposter. No, I can't say I have any patience with her folly. How could any man have two opinions on the subject? He was neither related to him nor connected with him, cried Mr. Beverly, with a momentary inclination as Lucilla thought, to get a ground among the pronouns as Mrs. Mortimer had done. I do not suspect my cousin, the Archdeacon continued, with an air so severe and indignant that it was evident he was contradicting his own sentiments. Of having any partiality for such a person, but certainly her obstinacy and determination are such— Hush, please, said Lucilla, you are only laughing when you use such words. Now tell me one thing, and don't be angry if it is a stupid question. If there was any one that knew her and you, and perhaps him, and was to try— Don't you think it might be arranged? By money, said the Archdeacon, and he smiled one of those disagreeable smiles which youthful writers described by saying that his lip curled with scorn. You take me for Mortimer, I suppose, who could go into that sort of compromise? I suppose he did give them money before— Before she was left a widow, said Mr. Beverly, grinding his teeth slightly with a savage expression. No, Miss Marge Banks, wherever lasting truth and justice are concerned, I do not understand how things can be arranged. After such a truculent statement, what was the peacemaker to do? She left the fire to blaze out by itself for a minute or two, and then she came down upon the enemy on another wind. I am sure I am very sorry, said Dussela softly, to think you should be so fond of her and she's so fond of you, and nothing but this, standing in the way. And then she's too good for this world, and never thinks of herself. I often think if anything was to happen to me, and my life is no safer than other people's lives, said Miss Marge Banks with a sigh. What would become of her, poor dear? I am sure if I knew of any way. As for obstinate, you know it is not in her to be obstinate. She thinks she is right, and you think you are right, and I suppose neither of you will give in, cried Dussela. What is anybody to do? If anyone gives in, it should be she, said the Archdeacon. For my part I will never stand by and consent to such a robbery, never. In these matters, at least, a man must be a better judge than a woman. If you are her friend, you will persuade her of her duty, Mr. Beverly added, and he did not show so much as a symptom of yielding. To say that Miss Marge Banks was not discouraged would be more than the truth, but she was still at the beginning of her forces and no thought of giving in was in her courageous soul. I will tell you what occurs to me, said Dussela frankly. Let us find out something about him. Do you know anything about him? If she were to hear that he was, as you say, an imposter, you know, and a villain, what is his name? Where does he live? Is he a very, very wicked man? said Miss Marge Banks. And she looked up with that ingenious look of appeal which was always so touching in her to the Archdeacon's face. As for Mr. Beverly, in his haste and excitement, he gave Ventu two very contradictory statements. She knows all about him. I don't know anything about him, he said, with some heat. I mean, she knows as much as I do. Though she draws such a different conclusion, I am sure I saw him in Carlingford the first day I was here. For anything I can tell, she knows more of him than I do, said the broad churchman with a sudden flash of jealousy and anger. It occurred to Dussela then, for the first time, that she had found a grand clue to the whole. That would be dreadful, said Miss Marge Banks, if she knew him and was keeping him out of the way till you were gone. I did not think of that. If such a thing should be the case, fond as I am of Mrs. Mortimer, I never could go near her any more, said Dussela sadly. Oh, don't say you think so, please. I should have to give her up, and that would be dreadful. For I owe it to Papa, when he gives me so much liberty to be careful. Oh, Mr. Beverly, don't say you think so, cried Dussela, deeply moved. She put her handkerchief to her eyes, and yet she kept to watch upon the arch-deacon through one of the corners. He had got up by this time and was walking about the room like any other man in trouble. To throw any suspicion on the widow or separate her from so effectual a protection was the very last thing he had any inclination to do. For, to tell the truth, he made that jealous suggestion only in order to receive an indignant denial, and to be assured that such a thing was impossible. But then Mr. Beverly did not know whom he had to deal with, nor that he was not the first man whom Ms. Marchbanks had reduced to his proper place. If that was the case, said Dussela, drying her eyes, dreadful as it is to think of it, oh, Mr. Beverly, if such a thing were the case, it would be far better for her to marry him, and then she would have all the fortune without prosecuting. If things have gone so far, though it is miserable to think of it, and to believe that she could be so unkind, said Ms. Marchbanks with a sob, and so double-minded and so deceitful to me, in Heaven's name what are you thinking of, said the Archdeacon. He has grown as pale as he was before red, and came to a dead stop in front of Dussela, and stood lowering and menacing over her. His shadow was so big and strong, and stood so directly between her and the window that Ms. Marchbanks' heart gave one bound of something like alarm. Dear Mr. Beverly, said Dussela, try and compose yourself. It would be a dreadful trial to me, but I should endeavor to bear it. If we love her, we should, on the contrary, urge her to do it, said the young moralist with solemnity. However hard it may be to us. It would be better than—than dreadful concealment and misery—it would be better than knowing and not telling, as you say, oh, Mr. Beverly, if you are sure that is the case, let us both go to her and beg her to marry him. I could never, never, never see her again, sobbed Dussela, but she would be happy, and that would be the end of all. The Archdeacon, though he was not a weakling, was altogether stunned by this address. He sank into the nearest chair, and drew it closer to Dussela and looked perfectly flabby and ghastly in his white tie with his alarmed countenance. For the sake of all that is sacred, said Mr. Beverly, bending forward towards her, tell me what foundation you have, tell me all you know. Now was the critical moment, and Dussela felt it. If Mrs. Chiley, for example, had only advised herself to come in then instead of interrupting people's proposals and driving a likely suitor to desperation, but such happy chances do not occur at the real crisis of life. What she wanted was, naturally, not to explain herself, but to let that arrow wrangle in her opponent's heart until it should have served her purpose. All that she said in answer to Mr. Beverly's appeal was to hide her face in her handkerchief, which was the only means that occurred to her for the moment of gaining a little time for reflection. It is so hard to have such thoughts put into one's head, said Dussela, of a person who has been one's friend, and she always looked so nice and so true. I never thought she would deceive anyone. I thought she was so transparent, you know. Oh, Mr. Beverly, it is so dreadful to be disappointed in one's friends. I wish I had never heard of it. I wish you had never told me. I almost wish, though it is dreadful to say such a thing, that you had never come to Carlingford and found it all out. My dear Miss Marchbanks, said the Archdeacon solemnly, I implore you, as the greatest kindness you can do me, to tell me all you know. Indeed, I don't know what I know, said Dussela, partially raising her face out of her handkerchief. I don't think I know anything for my part. I always thought if one could rely upon anyone, it was her, for truthfulness and for yieldingness, and doing what anyone asked her. I did think so, and I am all in a world to think, after all, she should be obstinate and deceiving and yet look so different, said Dussela. But if it has come to that, we must be firm, Mr. Beverly. If you ask my opinion, I say she should be allowed to marry him that would solve everything, you know, Miss Marchbanks added, with sad decision. She would get all the fortune without going to Lowe, and she would be settled and off one's mind. That would be my final advice if everything has happened as you say. Mr. Beverly was driven as nearly out of his senses by this council as it was possible for a man of ordinary self-control and warm temper to be. He got up again and made a stride to and fro and wiped the moisture from his forehead which, as Dussela remarked at the moment, had a low church look, which she would not have expected from him. But, on the other hand, he gave vent to some stifled and unintelligible exclamation switch, whatever they were. Then he came to himself a little, which was what Miss Marchbanks was most afraid of, and stood over her large and imposing as before. Tell me for heaven's sake what you mean, cried the arch-deacon. You do not think, surely, that I, for a moment, meant to imply that Helen would waste a thought upon such a miscreant. Could heavens marry him? You must be raving. She would as soon think of going for a soldier, said Mr. perfectly unmerthful laugh, or doing anything else that was mad and unnatural. That is how you women stand up for your friends, always ready to suggest something inconceivably horrible and debasing. Happily you always go too far, he added, once more wiping his forehead. It was a very low church, not to say dissenterish sort of thing to do, and it unconsciously reduced her adversaries' dignity in Miss Marchbanks' opinion, besides affording a proof that he was not nearly so much convinced of what he said as he professed to be in his secret heart. Mr. Beverly, I think you forget a little, said Lucilla, with dignity. I know nobody but yourself who has any suspicions of Mrs. Mortimer if it had been anybody but you. I should have laughed at them, but to return to the question, Miss Marchbanks added with calm grace, I always used to be taught at Mount Pleasant that feelings are nothing to do with an abstract subject. I don't see, for my part, now you have mentioned it, why she should not marry him. It would arrange the money matter without any trouble, and I have always heard he was very nice, said the bold experimentalist, fixing her eyes calmly upon the arch-deacon's face. I am sure I should never have thought of it, if it had been left to me, but speaking calmly I don't see the objections, now it has been proposed. I see the bell for luncheon that Thomas is ringing, is it actually half past one, and I expect some people, said Lucilla. She got up as she spoke and went to the mirror, and looked at herself with that beautiful simplicity which was one of Miss Marchbanks' distinguishing features. When one has been crying it always shows, she said, with a little anxiety. As for Mr. Beverly, his state of mind, as the newspapers say, could be better than that. I must go away, he said, taking up his hat. I don't feel capable of meeting strangers after this exciting conversation. Miss Marchbanks continued the arch-deacon taking her hand, and holding it fast over his hat to give emphasis to his address. At least I can trust to you not to breathe a word to Mrs. Mortimer, not a syllable of the horrible suggestion which has got utterance, I don't know how. I may surely trust to Mr. Beverly said with emphasis, but by this time Miss Marchbanks considered it time to bring the crisis to an end. I wish you would stay to luncheon, she said. There are only one or two of my friends. As for honour, you know, you gentlemen say, that we have no sense of honour, said Lucilla airily, and to think that two women could be together and not talk of what might perhaps be a marriage. At this moment someone rang the doorbell. Lucilla knew perfectly well that it was only the baker, but it could not be expected that the arch-deacon should be similarly initiated into the secrets of the house. He thought, as was natural, that it was the people she expected, and almost rang her hand as he let it go. You will let me see you again first, he said in a tone of entreaty. Before you see her, you will let me see you again. For heaven's sake don't refuse me, cried Mr. Beverly. If anybody had but heard him, as Lucilla said to herself the minute he was gone. And the truth was that Thomas did hear him, who had just opened the door to tell his young mistress, that her luncheon was waiting, and whom the arch-deacon did all but knock downstairs in his sudden and unlooked for exit. The impression naturally conveyed to Thomas by these words was of the clearest and most distinct description. He was even known to say afterwards, as he never knew a gentleman as spoke plain. But Mr. Beverly rushed downstairs without thinking of Thomas in a most unenviable frame of mind into the rain. He was more afraid of meeting Miss Marchbank's friends than a man of his size and principle should have been afraid of meeting anybody, but then there is a vast distinction as everybody is aware, and no one more than the arch-deacon between physical and moral strength. As for Lucilla, her tears and anxieties passed off in a miraculous manner as soon as her visitor was gone. She went downstairs and ate her luncheon with a serenest brow and a most agreeable lady-like appetite. And it was not a fib, as may perhaps be supposed, that she was expecting people, for at that hour Miss Marchbank's always did expect people who, to be sure, might be kept back by the rain, but whom she was always justified in looking for. Perhaps on the whole, not standing her warm sense of the duties of hospitality, Lucilla was glad that it rained so heavily and that nobody came. She had a great deal to think of as she took her maidenly and delicate repast. The first step had been taken, and taken triumphantly. Henceforward, whatever the arch-deacon's illusions might be, he could no longer stand calm upon his eminence and conclude that it was he, and he alone who could raise the widow from her motherly estate. To be sure Lucilla knew that no such idea as that of marrying her uncle's heir would ever present itself to Mrs. Mortimer, and in that, at least so far as Miss Marchbank's information went, such a thought was equally removed from the mind of the personage unknown whom Mr. Beverly denounced as an imposter. But that did not in the least affect the value of the suggestion as an instrument to be used against the arch-deacon who was big enough himself, and on whose account the young philanthropist had no compulsions. But after that first step had been taken, and even successfully all the real difficulties began, and Lucilla knew no more as yet how she was to find and identify not to say assail and vanquish the other side, the mysterious Mr. Cavern, the man whom the arch-deacon abused and the widow defended, then even the greatest military genius knows at the commencement of the country, how to conduct the second. This was what she considered so closely as she sat alone in the dull afternoon. She did not go to Mrs. Mortimer because it was impossible that every day could be a half-holiday, and because on the whole she judged it best not to subject herself in the present undeveloped state of the position to much questioning. But she sent her a little note to satisfy her mind, telling her to keep herself easy and not to let her, and to confide in the devotion of her affectionate Lucilla. When she had thus satisfied the immediate demands of friendship, Miss Marge Banks took her work and sat down to reflect. Nothing could be more exciting than the position in which she found herself. But the difficulties were only such as stimulated her genius, and then it was not any selfish advantage, but the good of her neighbor in its most sublime manifestation, the good of her neighbor who had been insensible to her attraction which, according to the world in general, is the one thing unpardonable to a woman, which Lucilla sought. And it was not even the scriptural calls of fire she was thinking of as she pondered her great undertaking in her mind. The enterprise might not be free from a touch of human vanity, but it was vanity of a loftier description, the pleasure of exercising a great faculty, and the natural confidence of genius in its own powers. The fruit of Lucilla's long and mature reflection was that next morning being fine and all, the clouds dispersed. She went out with her usual firm step in self-position, and what was rather unusual with her, except on necessary occasions of ceremony, knocked at Mrs Woodburn's door. Mrs Woodburn and Miss March Banks had never, as people say, taken to each other. They were as different in their ways as it is possible to imagine. The mimic was a little indolent, and would not take the trouble to make any exertions for the good of the community, except in the exercise of her peculiar talent, though she had been known, when excited, to go through real fatigue for that. But she had none of the steady force, the persevering energy, or to sum up all in one word, the genius of Miss March Banks, who for her part, recognized the use of such an instrument of entertainment as Mrs Woodburn possessed, without appreciating it for Lucilla had in reality no sense of humor, as she candidly admitted, with that consciousness of her own faults, and slight disposition to consider them virtues, which is common to persons of great endowments. It was accordingly with a slight sense of effort on both sides, that they met thus in the familiarity of an early visit, at the moment when people doing their duty to each other in a ceremonial way would not have thought of calling. She was aware that Mrs Woodburn regarded her, even when she kissed her in the most neighborly and affectionate manner, with a look which seemed to say, what can she want, coming here so early? As for Lucilla, she was too wise to pretend, that it was a mere visit of regard. She was too wise, and her interlocutor was too clever, and prone to catch every touch of expression. Though Miss March Banks flattered herself, she had sufficient experience to enable as occasion for it, all expression from her face. But such was not her policy at this moment. When the two faces had touched each other in that loving and sisterly salutation, their owners immediately separated, and regarded each other from two opposite chairs. Without decided hostility it is true, but with the watchful air of two people, whom the fates may range on different sides, and whom it behooves to be mutually watchful. And Lucilla thought it the most expedient course under the circumstances, to begin her investigations at once. I have come to make an inquisition, she said. I may as well confess it at once, for you would find me out if I didn't. Mrs. Woodburn, where is Mr. Cavendish? I am not going to put up with it any longer. He must be written to and had back again. The only man that was to be depended upon in Carlingford, said Lucilla, and to think he should disappear like this, and never say a word. Mrs. Woodburn fairly gassed in her companion's face, she could no more tell what this meant, than if she had been a person utterly unacquainted with human motives and ways of working, and indeed it was only the tricks of the surface for which she had any real insight. My brother, she exclaimed, with something between an impulse of defence and denial, and a quite opposite instinct of confidence, had he proposed, after all, without telling his sister, had Lucilla a right to ask the question she uttered so frankly, had he been prudent for once in his life and secured a sensible alliance and prop to his position? All these questions rushed at lightning speed through Mrs. Woodburn's mind, but she was not so prompt to smith march-banks would have been under the circumstances, and all she did was to open her eyes wide, and give a start on her chair, and say, my brother, with the voice which trembled and was half extinguished by surprise. Yes, Mr. Cavendish said Lucilla, do tell me his address. There is not a man in Carlingford who is good for anything now that he is gone, you must see that as well as I do. As for flirting, I have always said he was the only man that knew anything about it. Do tell me where he is, and I will write to him, or please send him word for me that absolutely he must come back. We are all crying for him, you may say. Mrs. Woodburn had recovered a little and found a moment to think, but her faculties were not so handy, except in her own particular way, as might have been expected from such a clever woman. She could even at that moment have taken off Miss March-Banks to the life, but she was in the most profound bewilderment as to what Lucilla could mean, whether she was really laying herself out to catch Mr. Cavendish, or whether she was merely talking nonsense without any particular meaning, or whether she was feigning indifference by way of getting information, and the stupidest person in Carlingford would have acquitted herself as well as Mrs. Woodburn felt able to do in the emergency. I should think he would rather hear that some of you were willing to live for him, she said, in a tremulous way, finding nothing better to come to her lips than the echo of an old compliment yet with an instinct of serving her brother so far as it might be in her power. Not me, said Lucilla frankly. Some people once thought so, you know, but I can't say I ever thought so. There never will be anything about living or dying between him and me. I hope we know better, said Miss March-Banks. Besides, if I were so much as to think of that sort of thing, I should feel I was swindling papa. Oh no, I assure you, I am quite disinterested. I want him for my Thursdays. Do write and say he must come home. I don't like people to be too disinterested, said Mrs. Woodburn and I don't think Harry would be at all glad to hear it. I wish he would come back, I am sure. I'm always bullying him about it. I thought perhaps some of you young ladies had been unkind to him, said the anxious sister, who had recovered her head and thought it might be possible to get at the secret by means like this. No, said Miss March-Banks. I have not been unkind to him and there is nobody else I know of, said the candid Lucilla. Unless poor Barbara and she will never be unkind, you know, I will write him a letter if he will give me his address. Is it true that somebody has left him a great deal of money and he is going to change his name? His name, said Mrs. Woodburn with a little cry like an old woman, and then she recovered herself. I have not heard anything of the kind, she said, and he would be sure to tell me of it, but in Carlingford people know things before they happen. I should be very glad to know that somebody was going to leave him a great deal of money, but I don't know about the name. Oh, I heard it only in a confused sort of way, said Lucilla, or that he had changed his name. Did he ever make any change to be somebody's heir? Oh, I beg your pardon, but, you know, people do it every day. Mrs. Woodburn had grown quite pale, perhaps because she began to see that there was some method in these questions, perhaps with simple and unreasonable fright at a suggestion. She could not say a word for a moment, so startling was the question, and then there was something in Lucilla's early visit, and in her instant thought upon Mr. Cavendish, which was alarming. She was so frightened and driven into a corner that she could not tell how to answer. It occurred to her all at once that perhaps Mr. Cavendish had opened his heart to Miss Marchbanks, and had given her an inkling of his secret. And what would Lucilla think if she contradicted her brother? Never was a poor woman in greater difficulty. All her fun and her mimicry collapsed. She no more noticed the peculiarities of Lucilla's look and manner than if she had been an ordinary inhabitant of Grange Lane. She changed his name, she faltered, in a blank sort of interrogative way, and in spite of herself faltered and shook and conveyed to Lucilla the most perfect assurance that what she supposed was true. When it is for a great deal of money there is some sense in it. When it is only for a prettier name it is dreadfully stupid. Don't you think so? As if we all could have pretty names, said Lucilla. I should like so much to have a talk with Mr. Cavendish. I picked up some very, very old friends of his the other day. People who used to know him long ago. I am sure he would be interested if he were to know. I don't think it could be him, said Mrs. Woodburn, with something like the instinct of despair. I don't remember any very old friends he has. It is so long a time ago. And then the poor lady stopped short as if she had something choking her in her throat. I don't think it could be he. Not such a very long time, said Lucilla, in her easy way. It is dreadful to give him a character for being old. Do write him please, and tell him about those people. He is sure to be interested if you say it is a lady and a pretty woman and a widow continued Miss March Banks. She says he was once very kind to her when her poor husband was alive. Mrs. Woodburn recovered herself a little as Lucilla spoke. It must have been some other Mr. Cavendish, she said. Harry was so much abroad, so long away from home. At that moment there was a sound in the house of a heavy step and Mr. Woodburn's whistle became audible in the distance. Then the poor woman who had a secret fixed haggard eyes upon Miss March Banks, she dared not say don't speak of this before my husband. She dared not utter a word to awaken suspicion on one side or the other. She knew very well that if Mr. Woodburn heard the existence of any old friends of his brother-in-law, he would insist upon having them produced and paying them some attention, and at the same time Mrs. Woodburn could not so far confide in Lucilla as to beg her to keep silent. This was what her brother's thought upon the unfortunate woman. And when the emergency came she was not as equal to it as she expected to be. Her talents were not of a nature to do her any good in such a straight. She collapsed entirely and looked round her in a flutter of fright and despair as if to find some means of escape. But this terror all arose from the fact that she did not know Miss March Banks, who was generous as she was strong and had no intention of having any extremities. Lucilla got up from her chair when she heard Mr. Woodburn's whistle coming nearer. I hear somebody coming, she said, and I must not stay, for I have quantities of things to do. Only mind you, tell Mr. Cavendish I have something quite serious to say to him from his old friend, and from me please to tell him that it is impossible to get on without him, continued Lucilla. As Mr. Woodburn entered the room and heard or do anything, I should write to him myself if I knew his address. And then, as was natural, Woodburn with his usual absurdity and his wife explained afterwards struck in with some boisterous badinage. As for Mrs. Woodburn in her mingled terror and relief she was too much excited to know what he said. But when Lucilla serenely smiling was gone with a mimic, with her nerves strung to desperation into the wildest comic travesty of Miss Marchbanks' looks and manners and her inquiries about Harry and sent her unsuspicious husband into convulsions of laughter. He laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks the unconscious simpleton and all the time his wife could have liked to throw him down and trample on him or put pins into him or scratch his beaming jovial countenance. Perhaps she would have gone into hysterics instead if she had not possessed that other safety valve for Mrs. Woodburn had not that supreme composure and self-command which belonged to Lucilla's higher organization. She wrote a long letter that afternoon and had a dreadful headache all the evening after it which considering all things was to be expected under the circumstances and was a weak-minded woman's last resource. No headache, however disturbness Marchbanks' beneficent progress. She went home unconscious that if she had not acquired any distinct information she had at least gained a moral certainty and besides she had measured the forces of Mr. Cavendish's bodyguard and had found them utterly unequal to any prolonged resistance. All that was wanted was prudence and care and that good look which was as much an endowment in its way as the other qualities by which Lucilla might be said to have secured it. She went home meditating her next step and with a certain enjoyment in the sense of difficulty and the consciousness of how much skill and power would be required to carry on three different threads of innocent intrigue with the three different persons in the drama without ever letting the general web get confused or confounding one strand with another. She had to frighten the arch-deacon with the idea that Mrs. Mortimer might marry the imposter and she had to keep the widow in the profoundest ignorance of this suggestion and she had to manage and guide the imposter himself to save his position and deliver him from his enemies and make his would-be persecutor forever harmless. If by chance she should forget herself for a moment and say to Mr. Beverly what she meant for Mr. Cavendish or betray her mode of dealing with either to the third person interested then farewell to all her hopes. But when all that was required was skill and self-possession and courage, Ms. Marchbanks knew herself too well to be afraid. She came in with that sense of having done her duty, which was so sweet to a well-regulated mind but it was not to that internal satisfaction alone that Providence limited Lucilla's reward. There were exceptional cases to be found here and there, even in this world in which virtue finds its just acknowledgment and this interested well-doing is recompensed as it deserves. While Ms. Marchbanks was still occupied with the arrangement of her plans, she was interrupted by a visitor who entered with a brow clouded by care and yet exalted by the sense of a charge and dignity which is not afforded to every woman. It was Mrs. Sentom who thus came to unfold to Lucilla the new event which was about to take place in Carlingford. She had a great deal to say at first as was natural of the dreadful vexation of such a thing happening in holiday time when the boys were all at home and when she did not know what to do. But you know, Lucilla, it will be delightful for all you young ladies to have the officers said Mrs. Sentom. It keeps the place lively though for my part I always say in six months there will not be a house that one can depend upon. It is dreadful for servants especially young ones and if they are nice looking you know but it is very nice for the young ladies and for all the picnics and dances and everything. What's officers said Lucilla breaking up her ears for to tell the truth the very name of officers in a place like Carlingford where nobody could flirt but Mr. Cavendish was as water in the desert bank's soul. Has not the doctor told you? said Mrs. Sentom. But to be sure very few people know as yet. Mr. Sentom says it must be all on your account because you give such nice parties but of course that is only his fun you know. However I suppose somebody has told Lord Palmerston of all those great buildings that were meant for the factories and of Carlingford being such a healthy general is coming to us tomorrow Lucilla. General Travers you know that was in all the papers for something he did in India Charles used to know him at school he is quite handsome and has ever so many medals and things it is a dreadful addition to one's troubles in holiday time you know but my dear I hope you will ask him to your Thursdays and help us to make Carlingford pleasant to him it all depends upon him said Mrs. Sentom he likes the place and things it will do and finds nice society whether it is here or at Hampton that they establish the depot at Hampton cried Miss Marge Banks naturally excited the stupidest wretchedest little place that is just what Mr. Sentom says said the visitor with a sigh what I am nervous about is the servants Lucilla and you know that under nurse of mine what a nice steady girl she has always been and what a comfort but as soon as the soldiers come it turns their heads I want you to tell me if you'll be so very good Lucilla how Nancy makes that pâté that Mr. Sentom is so fond of I know it is a good deal to ask but I am sure you are one to stand by your friends and if the general should take a dislike to Carlingford through any fault of mine I never could forgive myself and I want you to ask him to your Thursdays dear Mrs. Sentom cried Miss Marge Banks Papa must call on the general and ask him to dinner as for my Thursdays I always say they are not parties they are only evenings said Lucilla sweetly and not with a gentleman's while and about the pâté Lucilla said Mrs. Sentom anxiously I hope you won't think it too much of me to ask you are so clever you know and so is Nancy and what with the noise in the nursery dinners and all those big boys home from school Mrs. Sentom fixed her eyes with true solicitude on Lucilla's face Miss Marge Banks was magnanimous but the pâté in question was one of the greatest triumphs of the doctor's table she thought and with truth that it was a great deal for anyone to ask but then it is true that genius has duties as well as privileges and to impress upon mediocrity that of loyally following and copying superior intelligence is of itself a moral effect of the greatest importance and besides the woman who at such a moment produced a live general in carlingford and held out hopes of officers was not a woman to be denied I will write it down for you said Lucilla graciously if you think your cook will understand or perhaps Nancy might step in and show her how Nancy, dear Mrs. Sentom I hope you will always feel sure that I am ready to do anything for my friends oh thank you dear cried the grateful woman I knew you were not one to mind and if Nancy would be so very kind I am sure you will like the general added Mrs. Sentom with a fusion he will live here you know if the depot comes and be such an addition I said to Charles the moment he told me that would just be the very thing for Lucilla and he is quite young looking and so nice and pleasant she added in the fullness of her enthusiasm and gratitude as for Miss March Banks she shook her head but nevertheless received the assurance with a smile it is not that sort of thing I am thinking of said Lucilla if it had been I need never have come home and now after papa has been so kind about the drawing room but I am always glad to hear of nice new people said Miss March Banks and to meet a man that has been in the world is such a pleasure to papa with this benign acknowledgement of the general's merits Lucilla received Mrs. Sentom's affectionate leave takings to be sure she knew nothing and did not occupy herself much at that moment about General Travers but at the same time Miss March Banks with her usual piety recognized the approval of Providence in this new occurrence and exhilarated it is but in rare cases as has been said that the reward of virtue is given so promptly and with such beautiful discrimination and there are even people in the world who profess to have no faith in any prompt or visible recompense but Lucilla was not of that new and heretical school for her own part she felt it very natural that her exertions for the good of her kind should thus be recognized and acknowledged and returned to her plans with the sweet and exhilarating sense of moral harmony which an approving conscience and an approving heaven and a sense of blessings earned in goodness recompensed are so well calculated to give End of Chapter 26 Recording by Marie Selquie Chapter 27 of Miss March Banks This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Miss March Banks by Mrs. Elephant Chapter 27 Miss March Banks' mind had scarcely subsided out of the first exhilarating sense of a great many things to do and a truly important mission in hand when little Rose Lake sought her with that confession of family troubles and prayer for counsel and aid in the extremity which opened a new way of working to Lucilla Rose was proud, poor little soul not only of her exceptional position and that of her family as a family of artists but also with a constitutional and individual pride as one of the natural conservators of the domestic honour who would rather have died than have heard the lake slightly spoken of or up-braided with debt or in decorum or any other crime She had been silent as long as she could about Barbara's shortcomings jealously concealing them from all the world and attacking them with a violence which made her big elder sister who was twice as big and six times as strong as she trembled before her when they were alone But little Rose had at length found things come to a point beyond which her experience did not go When Barbara began to have secret meetings with a man whose presence nobody was aware of and who did not come openly to the house to seek her and persevered in spite of all remonstrances in this clandestine career Rose could not tell what more to do A vague instinct of greater evil behind impelled her to some action and shame and pride combined at the same time to keep her silent She could not speak to her father because the poor man lost his head straight away and made pities appeals to her with a fuss and threw the burden back again upon her with a double weight and besides he was only a man though he was her father and Rose had the pride of a woman in addition to her other prides In these painful circumstances it occurred to her to consult Lucilla who had been as has been recounted in an early part of this history a great authority at Mount Pleasant where her heroic belief in herself was natural others to believe in her and then Miss March Banks was one of the people who keep counsel and Rose felt besides that Lucilla had been injured and had not revenged herself and that to put confidence in her would be to a certain extent to make up for the offense All these motives combined with an intolerable sense of having upon her shoulders a burden greater than she could bear drove the young artist at last where Lucilla as we have said was still in the state of mental exhilaration and excitement naturally consequent upon having a very important piece of work in hand I don't know what to do said Rose I made up my mind I never would say a word to anyone it is so strange she should have no proper pride but you know Lucilla it is dreadful to think if anything should come of it but they might run away or something and then people are so fond of talking I thought for a long time if I only knew some nice old lady but then I don't suppose there are any nice old ladies in Carlingford added the pre-Raphaelist with a sigh oh you little monster cried Lucilla there is Mrs. Chiley the dearest old but never mind make haste and tell me all the same Lucilla said Rose solemnly we are not great people like you we are not rich nor able to have all we like and everybody to visit us but all the same we have our pride the honor of a family is just as precious whether people live said the young artist with a certain severity in Grove Street or in Grange Lane this Exordium had its natural effect upon Miss Marge Banks her imagination leaped forward a long way beyond the reality which her companion talked of so solemnly and she changed color a little as even a woman of her experience might be excused for doing in the presence of something terrible and disastrous so near at hand I wish you would not frighten me said Lucilla I am very sorry for you you dear little Rose you are only a baby yourself and ought not to have any bother but there's a dear but these soothing tones were too much for Rose's composure she cried and her cheeks flushed and her dewy eyes enlarged and lightened when they had thrown off a little part of their oppression in the form of those hot salt tears Miss Marge Banks had never seen her look so pretty and said so to herself with a momentary and perfectly disinterested regret that there was nobody to see her regret which probably changed its character before Rose left the house but in the meantime Lucilla soothed her and kissed her and took off her hat and shed her pretty curls off her forehead these curls were not by any means so strong and vehement in their twist as Miss Marge Banks own but hung loosely and softly with a sweet neglect of the poet you would look very nice if you would take a little pains Lucilla said in her maternal way you must wear your hair just so on Thursday and now tell me all about it there's a deer Lucilla you know said Rose drying her tears she has taken to going out in the evening and I am sure she meets him every night I can't be a spy on her whatever she does and I can't lock her up you know or lock the door or anything like that I am not her mother said the poor little sister with a regretful sob and then she has taken to make herself nice before she goes out I don't think she ever cared much for being nice not for home you know but now she has pretty collars and gloves and things and I can't tell where she gets them cried Rose her eyes lighting up passionately she has no money to spend on such things Lucilla I should die if I thought she would accept them from him you dear old Rose you don't know what you are saying said the experience Lucilla most likely if she meets a gentleman she is engaged to him and they always give people presents you know if you would only tell me who it is Lucilla do not trifle with me said Rose it is much too serious for that engaged without papa knowing of it nor me you know very well that would be no engagement I sometimes think she is is fond of him said the reverent little maiden whose voice changed and softened under the influence of that supposition and then again I think it is only because he is rich she went on with new vehemence oh Lucilla if you only knew how dreadful it was to have such thoughts and there is nobody to take care of her but me papa cannot be worried for that would react upon everything it is not just like other people it is everybody's duty to leave him undisturbed and then you know he is only a man and does not understand and if she won't pay any attention to me when I speak to her oh Lucilla tell me what can I do let me think said Lucilla gravely you know I can't tell all in a moment it is Mr. Kevin dish I suppose though you won't say so now just wait a moment and let me think I once thought of going to him said Rose perhaps he might be generous and go away an artist can do many things that other people can't do we have an exceptional position the pre-Raphaelist went on faltering a little and not feeling quite so sure of the fact on that special occasion I thought of going and begging of him if it was on my knees my dear said Lucilla seriously if you did I think it is most likely he would fall in love with you and that would not mend the matter and I am sure Barbara would give you poison I will tell you what we must do I would not do it for everybody but you know I was always very fond of you you dear little Rose you shall ask me for tomorrow evening to come to tea to come to tea echoed poor Rose in this May she had been waiting for Lucilla's advice with a great deal of anxiety but at the present moment it would be vain to conceal that the proposed expedient seemed to her altogether inadequate for the emergency the light went out of her face as she opened her eyes wide and fixed them on Lucilla and for one moment, one desperate moment Rose was disloyal and lost faith in the only person who could help her which perhaps under the circumstances was not a thing to cause much surprise my dear you may be sure I would not propose it if I did not feel it was the best thing to do said Lucilla with great gravity it happens precisely that I want to see Mr Cavendish and if he is at home he never shows himself and I have been wondering how I could find him I shall make him walk home with me said Miss March Banks so you need not be uneasy Rose about the trouble I am taking I am doing it to serve myself as well as you we shall say eight o'clock if that is not too late but Lucilla said Rose with consternation and then she stopped short and could not tell what more to say you don't understand it said Miss March Banks I don't think it was to be expected that you should understand it a little thing like you has no way of knowing the world when Barbara knows I am there she will be sure to bring him to the very door she will want me to see that he is with her and you may leave the rest to me said Lucilla for my part I have something very particular to say to Mr Cavendish it is my luck Miss March Banks added for I could not think how to get to see him at eight o'clock tomorrow evening yes said Rose but perhaps it was still doubtful how far she understood the mode of operations proposed Lucilla's prompt and facile genius was too much for the young artist and there was as she herself would have said an entire want of keeping between her own sense of the position tragical and desperate as that was and any state of matters which could be ameliorated by the fact of Miss March Banks coming to tea it had been Rose's only hope and now it seemed all at once to fail her and yet at the same time that instinctive faith in Lucilla which came naturally to everyone under her influence struggled against reason in Rose's heart her red soft lips fell apart with the hurried breath of wonder and doubt her eyes still expanded and clearer than usual after their tears were fixed upon Lucilla with an appealing questioning look and it was just at that moment when Rose was a great deal too much absorbed in her disappointment and surprise and lingering hope to take any notice of strange or of anybody coming that Thomas all at once opened the door and showed Mrs. Sentom into the room now it would have mattered very little for Mrs. Sentom who to be sure knew Lucilla perfectly well and would never have dreamed for a moment of identifying such a trifling little person as Rose Lake in any way with Miss March Banks but then Mrs. Sentom happened at that precise moment to be bringing the new arrival of a stranger on whom so much depended General Travers himself to be introduced to Lucilla and it was not the fault of either of Rose or the general if it was on the young mistress of the female school of design that the warrior's first glance fell naturally the conversation had run upon Miss March Banks on the past evening for Mrs. Sentom was full of the enthusiasm and excitement incident to that pate which Lucilla had so enormously enabled her to produce is she pretty General Travers had demanded as was to be expected well Mrs. Sentom had replied and made a long pause would you call Lucilla pretty Charles and Charles had been equally dubious in his response for to be sure it was a dereliction for Miss March Banks dignity to call her pretty which is a trifling sort of qualification but when the general entered the drawing room which might be called the center of Carlingford and saw before him that little chewy face full of clouds and sunshine uncertain unquiet open-eyed with the red lips apart and the eyes clear and expanded with recent tears a face which gave a certain sentiment of freshness and fragrance to the atmosphere like the quiet after a storm he did not understand what his hosts could mean I call her very pretty he said under his breath to his interested and delighted chaperone and we are surely justified in appealing to the readers of this history as Lucilla who was always reasonable afterwards did to herself whether it could be justly said under all the circumstances that either Rose or the general were to blame the little artist caught up hurriedly when she awoke to the fact that other visitors had come into the room she was not at all interested in general Travers whom Rose with the unconscious insolence of youth classified in her own mind as an elderly gentleman not that he was at all an elderly gentleman but then a man of 40 especially when he is a fine man and adequately developed for his years has at the first glance no great attraction for an impertinent of 17 Rose did not go away without receiving another kiss from Lucilla and a parting reminder tomorrow at eight o'clock and mind you leave it all to me and don't worry said Miss March Banks and Rose half ashamed put on her hat and went away without so much as remarking the admiration in the stranger's eyes nor the look of disappointment with which he saw her leave the room Rose thought no more of him than if he had been a piece of furniture but as for the general when he found himself obliged to turn to Lucilla and make himself agreeable the drawback of having thus had his admiration first stalled and drawn away from its legitimate object was such that he did not find her at all pretty which after all on a first interview at least is all they think about as Miss March Banks herself said we must do all we can to make Carlingford agreeable to the general said Mrs. Santom you know how much depends upon it Lucilla if we can but make him like the place only think what an advantage to society and we have such nice society in Carlingford said the injudicious women who did not know what to say nothing very particular said Miss March Banks I hope general Travers will like us but as for the officers I am not so sure they all flirt you know and that is almost as bad as having nobody that can flirt which is my position Lucilla added with a sigh as long as Mr. Cavendish is away Lucilla cried Mrs. Santom a little shocked one would think to hear you that you were the greatest coquette possible and on the contrary she is quite an example to all our young ladies I assure you general and as for flirting dear Mrs. Santom said Lucilla sweetly one has always to do once duty to society as for me I am different you know and I don't mean to say that the officers would not be a great acquisition Miss March Banks continued with her usual politeness but then too many young people are the ruin of society if we were to run all to dancing and that sort of thing after all the trouble one has taken said Lucilla perhaps it was not quite civil but then it must be admitted that to see a man look blankly in your face as if he were saying in his mind then it is only you and not that pretty little thing that is Miss March Banks was about as exasperating a sensation as one is likely to meet with Lucilla understood perfectly well General Treber's look and for the moment instead of making herself agreeable it was the contrary impulse that moved her she looked at him not blankly as he looked at her but in a calmly considered way as she might have looked at Mr. Holden the upholsterer had he proposed a new tapestry to her judgment one would be always delighted of course to have General Treber's said Miss March Banks but I am afraid the officers would not do as for Mrs. Senton she was quite incapable of managing such a terrible crisis she felt it indeed a little hard that it should be her man who was defied in this alarming way while Mr. Cavendish and the Archdeacon the two previous candidates had both been received so sweetly to be sure it was his own fault but that did not meant matters she looked from one to the other with a scared look and grew very red and untied her bonnet and then as none of these evidences of agitation had any effect upon the other parties involved plunge into the heat of the conflict without considering what she was about to say Lucilla I am surprised that you said Mrs. Senton when you know how you have gone on about Mr. Cavendish when you know what a fuss you have made and how you have told everybody by the by who is Mr. Cavendish said General Treber's interposing with that holy horror of a quarrel between women which is common to the inferior half of creation I wonder if he's a fellow one used to meet everywhere one never could get any satisfaction who he belonged to he never pretended to be one of the Devonshire Cavendishes you know I don't know if he had any family at all or relations or that sort of thing in most cases a man gets on just as well without them in my opinion I wonder if this fellow you are talking of is he oh no said Mrs. Senton I hope you will meet him before you leave Carlingford he has a sister married here but we have always understood he was one of the Cavendishes I am Mrs. Woodburn always gives herself out for somebody she continued thinking better of it and beginning to let the interesting suspicion enter her mind for to be sure they were about of a standing and the bankers wife had sometimes felt a little sore at the idea that her neighbor possessed distinctions of family which were denied to herself it is true none of her relations ever come to see her said Mrs. Senton and she began the general and Lucilla's reception of him in this still more interesting subject it was the first time that the authenticity of the Cavendishes had been attacked in Carlingford and to be sure what is the good of having fine connections if they cannot be produced while Mrs. Senton pondered a suggestion so interesting Lucilla on her part also took advantage of the occasion and descended from the calm heights of dignity on which she had placed herself and the general who was a well-bred man had got over for the moment the unlucky impression made upon him by the fresh face of Little Rose Lake Mr. Cavendishes very nice said Miss Marshbangs I am very fond of all my own relations but I don't care about other people's of course he is one of the Cavendishes I don't see how he can help it when that is his name I should think it was sure to be the same we should be so obliged to you if you would bring him back to Carlingford I don't know I am sure why he is so obstinate in staying away perhaps somebody has been unkind to him said the general feeling it was expected of him I am sure I have not been unkind to him said Lucilla he is such a loss to me if you are going to do as the pleasure of coming on Thursday I am sure we shall feel quite honored both Papa and I how badly off I am it is not a party in the least and we don't dance said Miss Marshbangs that is why I am a little uncertain about the officers it is one of my principles that too many young people are the ruin of society but it is hard work sometimes when one is not properly supported Lucilla added with a gentle sigh if I can be of any use said the amused soldier I don't pretend to be able to replace Cavendish if it is Cavendish but no said Miss Marshbangs with resignation it is not easy to replace him he has quite the talent you know but I am sure it is very kind of you and we shall be delighted to have such an acquisition Lucilla continued after a pause with a gracious smile and then she let her guests downstairs to lunch which was every way satisfactory as for the general it cannot be doubted that he had a worst of it as was natural in this little encounter and felt himself by no means such a great personage in Carlingford as his hospitable entertainers had persuaded him he should be Mrs. Sentom declared afterwards that she could not form the least idea what Lucilla meant by it she who was generally so civil to everybody but it is not necessary to say that Miss Marshbangs knew perfectly well what she was doing and felt it imperatively necessary to bring down general Travers to his proper level Carlingford could exist perfectly well without him and his officers but Lucilla did not mean that the society she had taken so much pains to form should be condescended to by a mere soldier and then after all she was only human and it was not to be expected she could pass over the blank look with which her visitor turned to herself after having by evil fortune cast his eyes upon Rose Lake at the same time Miss Marshbangs always magnanimous did not blame Rose who had no hand whatever in the matter and if she avenged herself in ladylike and satisfactory manner it is not to be supposed that it was simply a sense of offense which actuated Lucilla she did it on the contrary on strictly philosophical principles having perceived that that Mrs. Sentom was spoiling her general and that it was absolutely necessary that he should be disabused when they left Mrs. Sentom was almost afraid to put the question that trembled on her lips she uttered it at last faltering and with a very doubtful expression for she could not conceal from herself the fact that the general had been snubbed how do you like Lucilla she said in the most humble way and then she turned away her face she could bear it whatever it might be she said to herself that so long as the children were well and the holiday is about over she could bear anything and what did it matter to her about the officers but at the same time she preferred to avert her face when she received the blow I am sure Miss Marshbangs is a person for whom I shall always entertain the highest respect said the general and he gave a little laugh was that pretty little creature friend or what I don't know when I have seen anything so pretty said the unsuspecting man and then Mrs. Sentom turned round upon him with a kind of horror that Lucilla's sister why she has no sister I told you so she is an only child and will have everything she will be quite an heiress cried Mrs. Sentom if the old doctor were to die there is no other medical man in the town that one can have the least confidence in except doctor Ryder and then he is so young and can't have much experience with children her sister indeed it was little Rose Lake the drawing master's daughter said Mrs. Sentom with a cruel distinctness the general only said oh but it was in a crestfallen tone for to be snubbed by one lady and struck with sudden enthusiasm for another who after all was not a lady to speak of but only a drawing master's daughter was rather hard upon the poor man thus it was the soldier who in ordinary circumstances ought to have been the most successful who began in the most cruel and uncomfortable way his campaign in Carlingford End of Chapter 27 Recording by Maricel Cui Chapter 28 of Miss Marge Banks This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Miss Marge Banks by Mrs. Olifant Chapter 28 Miss Marge Banks except for her habitual walk did not go out much that day occupied with what she had in hand she could not conceive for Lucila naturally took a reasonable view of affairs in general and did not account for the action of any such unknown quantity as love for example why Mr. Cavendish should conceal himself so carefully from society in Carlingford and yet run all the risk of meeting Barbara Lake in the evenings it seemed to Lucila inconceivable and yet it was impossible to believe it Mr. Cavendish though she had seen him on the very verge of a proposal did not present himself to her mind in the aspect of a man who would consider the world well lost for any such transitory passion neither as was natural did Barbara Lake appear to Lucila the least like a person calculated to call forth that sentiment but nevertheless it must be true and the only way to account for it was by thinking after all what fools they were and what poor judges and how little to be depended on when women were concerned Miss Marge Banks was determined to lose no more time but to speak to Mr. Cavendish if it was Mr. Cavendish and she could get the chance quite plainly of the situation of affairs to let him know how much she knew and to spur him up to come forward like a man and brave anything the Archdeacon could do a small personal aim that moved Lucila no doubt she would have shrunk from such a decided step but it was on the contrary the broadest philanthropical combination of Christian principles helped to the weak and suckered to the oppressed and a little just a very little of the equally evangelical idea of humbling the proud and bringing down the mighty she was so much occupied with her plans that it was with a little difficulty she roused herself to keep up the conversation with her father at dinner and be as amusing and agreeable as ordinary which indeed was more than ordinarily her duty since Dr. Marge Banks came in in a fractious and disturbed state of mind discontented with things in general the truth was he had got a letter from Tom Marge Banks from India where that unlucky young man had gone it was all very well and natural and proper to go to India and Lucila had felt indeed rather satisfied with herself for having helped forward that desirable conclusion especially after the doctor had taken pains to explain to her not knowing that she had any share in it that it was the very best thing for Tom to do for it has been already said that Dr. Marge Banks though he liked Tom and thought it very odd that Providence should have given the girl to him and the boy to his incapable sister in law who did not in the least know how to manage him had no desire to have his nephew for a son in law going to India was very right and proper and the best thing to do for a man might get on there even at the bar who would have no chance here but after he had made one step in the right direction it was only natural that all sorts of misfortunes should happen to Tom he was wrecked as was to be expected to make up for his losses Tom, who was a very good son did not want to vex his mother and accordingly it was his uncle whom he applied to to sell out a portion of the money he had in the funds she would think I was ruined or that it was not a good idea to make up for his losses Tom, who was a very good son did not want to vex his mother and accordingly it was his uncle whom he applied to he would think I was ruined or that it was my fault or at least that I meant to spend all my money wrote Tom and you understand uncle that it is not my fault confound him it is never his fault said Dr. Marge Banks as if that could possibly be brought against the unfortunate young man as a crime no papa it is his luck poor Tom I hope he does not mean to go on like this said the doctor he will soon make ducks and drinks of his five thousand pounds a young fellow like that ought to mind what he's doing it is a great deal easier to throw money away than it is to lay it by papa it is his luck said Ms. Marge Banks it is all put into a system in political economy you know it is all put into a system in political economy you know for my part I am always the other way it is very funny before you get used to it but you know there has to be a balance in everything and that is how it must be I don't think it at all funny said Dr. Marge Banks unless your good luck and his bad were to be joined together which is not an expedient I fancy when he said this the doctor gave a sharp glance at his daughter to see if by any chance that might perhaps be what she was thinking of but naturally the maiden candor and unsuspecting innocence of Lucilla was proof to such glances she took no notice at all of the implied suspicion but though it was very absurd for anybody to think that she would have married him it was not in Ms. Marge Banks nature to be disloyal to Tom I think he's quite right about his mother papa said Lucilla she would never understand it you know she would think the world was coming to an end I would not for anything take a passage in the same boat with him but he is nice in his way poor fellow I wonder what he has ever done to have such dreadful luck but I hope you are going to do what he asks you and with this calm expression of her interest Ms. Marge Banks went upstairs when the doctor became thus aware of his daughter's sentiments it seemed to him that he was more at liberty than kind to his nephew he had never been able to divest himself of a little lurking dread an inherent idea which was so obstinate that it felt like a prophecy that somehow or other after costing her father so much and making such a difference in the house Lucilla who on the whole was a dear production would fall to Tom's share with all Dr. Marge Banks other possessions and the doctor saw no reason why he should work and lay up money for a boy with providence with a wonderful want of discrimination had bestowed not upon him but upon Mrs. John Marge Banks however when that question was settled and done with his heart began to relent to Tom the unlucky who after all when the son-in-law hypothesis was fully dismissed was his natural born nephew and as Lucilla said very nice in his way poor fellow the doctor began to write him a letter and more with every line he wrote but as for Lucilla she had something more immediately important to occupy her upstairs the fact was that Ms. Marge Banks had found a shadowy figure in black in the corner of one of the sofas when she came into the drawing room a figure with a veil down and a large shawl and a tremulous air it was very seldom that Mrs. Mortimer took courage to visit her young patroness and to go out at night in the Salem Chapel when there was a meeting and when the timid woman represented to herself that it was her duty was a thing unknown to her but yet nevertheless it was Mrs. Mortimer who sat waiting for Lucilla they had not met since that momentous interview in which the widow revealed her history to Ms. Marge Banks sympathetic ears and the poor woman had been able to bear no longer the solitude of her cottage and her garden walls and marry Jane to know that something was going on outside that concerned her to hear the waves as it were beating round the walls of her prison and never to have even so much as a peep at them what they were about if the tide was beginning to turn or the wind to change or the lifeboat to appear was more than Mrs. Mortimer even with all her training to patients could put up with and accordingly she had made a frantic rush out to see if there was anything to see and hear if there was anything to hear you don't know how dreadful it is to keep staring at the walls all day and never see any change said the widow it is very stupid and silly but you know I cannot help it I get to fancy always that something wonderful must be going on on the other side that is because you don't go out enough said Lucilla you know how often I have said once every day and then you would see that everything outside was very much the same as everything within oh Lucilla don't say so said Mrs. Mortimer and besides he has been again and I could see you had been saying something to him he spoke as if I understood it all when I did not understand a word of it and he spoke of him you know and was quite solemn and warned me to think well of it and not do anything rash as if I had anything to think about tell me what you said to him Lucilla for I am sure by the way he spoke he must have taken him for himself and perhaps you for me who did he take for himself I wonder said Lucilla as for you and me, dear Mrs. Mortimer we are so different that he could never take us for each other whatever the circumstances might be ah yes Lucilla we are different said the poor widow you have all your own people to take care of you I am not afraid of anybody but as for me I have not a creature in the world who cares what becomes of me and as she made this for Lauren's statement it was only natural that the poor woman should cry a little this was no doubt the result of the four garden walls that closed in so tightly and the aggravating little pupils but Mrs. Marger Banks felt it was not a state of feeling that could be allowed to go on you ought not to speak like that many people who are interested in you and you have always me said Lucilla with a certain reproachful tenderness as for Mrs. Mortimer she raised her head and dried her eyes when Mrs. Marger Banks began to speak and looked at her in a somewhat eager inquiring way but when Lucilla uttered those last reassuring words it is undeniable that the widow's countenance fell a little she faltered and grew pale again and only cried the more perhaps with gratitude perhaps with disappointment and when she said I am sure you are very kind Lucilla which was all the poor soul could utter it was in a very tremulous undecided voice the fact that she had always the sympathy and cooperation of such a friend as Mrs. Marger Banks did not seem to have the exhilarating effect upon her that it ought to have had it did not apparently do any more for her than the similar assurance that Lucilla was coming to tea did but then like every other benefactor of the human race Mrs. Marger Banks was aware that the human mind has its moments of unbelief it was a discouraging experience to meet with but she never permitted it seriously to interrupt her exertions for the good of her kind you should not have so poor an opinion of your friends said Lucilla who after all was giving only a stone when her suppliant asked for bread you know how much interested we all are in you and for me anything I can do oh Lucilla you are very kind nobody could be kinder cried Mrs. Mortimer with compunction it is very nice to have friends I do not know what I should do without you I am sure but then one cannot live upon one's friends and then one knows when they go away said the widow with more feeling than the sickness of expression that they all go away to something of their own and pity you or forget you but you always stay there and have nothing of your own to go away to I am not grumbling but it is hard Lucilla and then you who are young and happy and at home I don't think it is possible you can understand my dear said Mrs. Marger Banks it is quite easy to understand and I know exactly what you mean you want me to tell you all about Mr. Beverly and what I said to him and what he has in his mind if he is the something of your own I think it is a pity I am sure he has a temper and I would not marry him for my part but if you mean me I have nothing to go away to said Lucilla with a little scorn I should be ashamed not to be enough for myself when I leave you it is not to enjoy myself but to think about you and to plan for you and all that you want to know is about him said Mrs. Marger Banks piercing through and through the thin armor of her incapable assailant naturally all the widows defenses fell before this ruthless response she cried with a mingled sensation of shame at being found out and penitence for being so ungrateful and a certain desolate distress with her own incapacity and want of power to defend herself it was an acute variety of feminine anguish on the whole the idea that she a mature woman a married woman and widow who ought to have been done with all these vanities should have been found out by a young girl to be thinking about a gentleman struck poor Mrs. Mortimer with a sharp assent of shame as if her wistful preoccupation had been a crime indeed the chances are if it had been a crime she would not have been nearly so much ashamed of it she hid her face in her hands and blushed down to the very edge of her black dress and up into the glooms of her widows veil and all the self defense she was capable of was a faint oh Lucilla a mere appeal of weakness without reason a virtual throwing of herself in acknowledged guilt at her judges feet Thomas is coming with a tea said Miss Marchbanks coming to my room and take off your bonnet what is the good of worrying yourself when you know I have taken it into my own hands spoiling your eyes with crying and making everybody uncomfortable never does the least good and besides what harm one might do oneself said Lucilla seriously I don't think you gone off at all for my part but if you don't take proper care I shall give you some rose water and you will be all right after you have had a cup of tea oh no it will be best to go home I am such a poor creature now I am not good for anything let me go home Lucilla said poor Mrs. Mortimer but Lucilla would not let her go home and by the time tea was ready and Dr. Marchbanks had come upstairs she had so managed to soothe her visitors nerves and console her spirits that the doctor himself grew complimentary he was so civil in fact that Lucilla felt slightly startled and on the whole thought it was well that the Archdeacon was at hand in affairs in a promising way for it was doubtful whether even Miss Marchbanks magnanimity could have got over any ridiculous part of her father who certainly was old enough to know better even to see him taking Mrs. Mortimer's tea to her and congratulating her upon her improved looks and felicitating himself and the world in general on the fact that Carlingford agreed with her was aggravating to his daughter more aggravating though it is strange to say so than even the blank looks of general Travers in the morning or his transference of the homage intended for herself in Rose Lake that was no more than a blunder and Lucilla felt a consolatory conviction that so far as incivility went the general had received a very satisfactory set off but to see Dr. Marchbanks exerting himself in such an unheard of way made her open her eyes if he were still accessible to such influences nobody could answer for anything that might happen and the widow was so grateful for his kindness that at one moment it was all that Lucilla could do to keep her lips shut fast and restrain herself from attempting illusion which would have made an end of Mrs. Mortimer it was the first time that Lucilla's protégé had ventured to come thus familiarly and uninvited to her friend's house and the doctor who knew no special reason for the visit expressed his satisfaction with the warmth which was quite uncalled for and hoped that Lucilla might often have the advantage of her company and virtually betrayed symptoms of a disposition to see her home if Ms. Marchbanks had not already made provision for that emergency when the visitor had finally departed under the charge of Thomas and Mary Jane the father and daughter regarded each other for the first time with dubious glances for so far as Lucilla was concerned it was a revelation to her of a new and altogether unsuspected danger and the doctor for his part was very conciliatory and showed a certain consciousness of having committed himself which made matters twenty times worse really Lucilla your friend is a credit to you said Dr. Marchbanks it was a stroke of talent to pick her up as you did and make a woman of her and a pretty woman too he added, unconsciously as if he at his age had anything to do with that I'm so glad you think so papa said Lucilla in her dutiful way I don't think myself that she has gone off at all to speak of in some lights she might pass for being no older than I am if she was very well dressed you know and it really does not matter what age a woman is if she keeps her looks I should be very glad to see her nicely married for my part she is one of the people who ought to be married Ms. Marchbanks continued with an inflection of compassionate tolerance in her voice for the doctor he mistook her as usual and took her tone of pity and kindly patronizing this dain for another instance of his daughter's policy and high art whereas the truth was she was quite in earnest and meant every word she said and then Dr. Marchbanks sense of humor was keener than that of Lucilla after this the conversation flagged slightly for Ms. Marchbanks had undeniably received a shock in the midst of her benevolent preoccupation and care for other people it had suddenly dawned upon her that her own stronghold might be attacked and the tables turned upon her in the twinkling of an eye there are days of discouragement in the most triumphant career and this was one of those uncomfortable moments her faith in herself did not fail her for an instant but the faith of her natural born subjects the creatures of her bounty had visibly failed her neither Rose Lake nor Mrs. Mortimer had shown that confidence in Lucilla's genius which experience in loyalty both called upon them to show when Dr. Marchbanks had gone downstairs to resume the case which he was writing out for the Lancet Lucilla passed through one of those moments of sublime despondency which now and then tried the spirits of the benefactors of their race a few tears came to her eyes as she reflected upon this great problem without such trials genius would not fully know itself nor be justly aware of its own strength for no temptation to give up her disinterested exertions had any effect upon the mind of Ms. Marchbanks and even her sense of pain at the unbelief of her followers was mingled with that pity for their weakness which involves pardon even when they wounded her she was sorry for them it was nature that was in fault and not the fallible human creatures but not in them to believe in the simple force of genius when Lucilla had shed these few tears over her subjects weakness and want of faith she rose up again in new strength from the momentary downfall it was as we have said a sublime moment the idea of giving them up and leaving their affairs to their own guidance never for an instant penetrated into her heroic mind but she was human and naturally in gratitude when the crisis was over she rose up calmly and lighted her candle and went to her room with a smile upon her magnanimous lips as she performed that simple action Lucilla had lifted up the feeble widow and taken the family of lakes and Mr. Cavendish and even the burly arch-deacon himself upon her shoulders they might be ungrateful or even unaware of all she was doing for them the claim of need upon strength and Ms. Marge Banks notwithstanding the wound they had given her was loyal to that appeal and to her own consciousness of superior power at the same time it would not be just to omit all mention of a consolatory recollection which occurred to Lucilla in this moment of her weakness at such a crisis the mind of genius may be supported by a matter very trifling in itself even at the instant when the moisture fell to her eyes Ms. Marge Banks said to herself poor Tom and felt that the bitterness to a certain extent had evaporated out of her tears he was a long way off and Lucilla would have thought it madness indeed to connect herself in any way with the fortunes of her unlucky cousin yet it gave her a certain support to think that amid all the want of faith she was encountering Tom believed in her heart and soul it was an insignificant matter so far as any practical result was concerned if indeed anything can be called insignificant which gives strength to a great mind in a moment of discouragement she said poor Tom and felt as if for the moment she had something to lean on and was comforted we mention this fact rather as a contribution to the history of those phenomena of the human mind which have us yet escaped the metaphysition then as an actual circumstance in the life of Ms. Marge Banks she was a woman of genius and he only a very simple unlucky fellow and yet a sensation of comfort came to Lucilla's heart when she said poor Tom End of Chapter 28 Recording by Marisol Cui