 CHAPTER XXIX Miss Margebanks prepared her toilet the next evening to take tea with the lakes, with greater care than she would have spent upon a party of much greater pretensions. She was, to be sure, dressed as usual, in the white dress, high, which she had brought into fashion in Carlingford, but then that simple evening toilet required many adjuncts, which were not necessary on other occasions, seeing that this time she was going to walk to her destination, and had in her mind the four distinct aims of pleasing Rose, of dazzling Barbara, of imposing upon Mr. Cavendish, and finally of being, as always, in harmony with herself. She was as punctual to the hour and minute of her engagement as if she had been a queen, and indeed it was with a demeanor as gracious that she entered the little house in Grove Street, where naturally there had been also sundry preparations made for her visit. After Lake himself, who had postponed his usual walk, and was taking his tea an hour later than usual, received his young visitor with all the suavity natural to him, and as for Barbara, she did the honors with a certain suppressed exultation and air of triumph, which proved to Lucilla that her plan was indeed an inspiration of genius. As for Rose, it would be impossible to describe what were her sensations. Her faith still failed her at that momentous hour. She was skeptical of Lucilla, and naturally of all the world, and regarded everybody with jealous scrutiny and expectation and distrust, as was natural to a young conspirator. She was profoundly excited and curious to know what Miss Marge Banks meant to do, and at the same time she did not believe in Miss Marge Banks, and was almost disposed to betray and interfere with her, if such treachery had been possible. It was Rose Lucilla specially came to visit, and yet Rose was the only one who was cool to her, and did not seem fully to appreciate her condescension, but then happily Miss Marge Banks was magnanimous, and at the same time had a design to support her, which was much more comprehensive and of larger application than anything that had entered into the mind of Rose Lake. I am proud to see you in my house, Miss Marge Banks, said Mr. Lake. I have always considered your excellent father, one of my best friends. I am not able to give my children the same advantages, but I have always brought them up not to have any false pride. We have no wealth, but we have some things which cannot be purchased by wealth. Said the drawing master, with mild grandeur, and he looked round upon the walls of his parlor, which were hung with his own drawings, and where one of Willys held the place of honour. In all Carlingford, there was no other house that enjoyed a similar distinction, and consequently, it was with a delicious sense of chivalrous deference, yet equality, that the exceptional man of Grove Street received the young sovereign of Graydonch Lane. I am so glad to come, Mr. Lake, said Lucilla. It is so nice to be among such old friends, and besides that. You know, there never was any voice that suited mine like Barbarus, and that dear old Rose was always my pet, Mount Pleasant. I should have come long ago, if anybody had ever asked me, said Miss Marge Banks. And as for Mr. Lake, he was so overpowered by this implied reproach upon his hospitality that he scarcely knew how to reply. My dear Miss Marge Banks, if you have not been asked, it has been from no one to f—of good will, said Mr. Lake anxiously. I do not know what the girls can have been thinking of. You see, Rose's genius takes another line, and Barbara naturally has a great many things to think of, but in the future, I hope— Oh yes, I shall come without being asked, said Lucilla, and when the tea came it was all she could do to keep herself quiet and remember that she was a visitor, and not take it out of the incapable hands of Barbara, who never gave her father the right amount of sugar in his tea. To tell the truth, Barbara's thoughts were occupied by a very different subject, and even Rose had but little attention to spare for her papa's comforts at that special moment. But Lucilla's larger mind embraced everything. She sat with her very fingers itching to cut the bread and butter for him, and give him a cup of tea as he liked it, and asked herself, with indignation, what was the use of that great creature, with her level eyebrows and her crimson bloom, who could not take the trouble to remember that three lumps was what Mr. Lake liked? Miss Marge Banks had never taken tea with him before, but his second cup, had she dispensed it, would have been exactly to his taste, which was a thing Barbara had not learned to make in all these years. No wonder that a certain sense of contemptuous indignation arose for one moment, even in the calm and impartial bosom of genius. Perhaps Rose would not have done much better, but then Rose was good for something else, which was always a set-off on the other side. Thus it will be seen that Lucilla had respect for use, even of a kind which in her own person she did not much appreciate, as became a person of a truly enlightened mind. But the creature who was of no earthly good irritated her well-regulated spirit, for to be sure, the possession of a fine contraldo, which is, at the same time, not fine enough to be made of use of professionally, is not a matter of sufficient moment in this world to excuse a young woman for not knowing how to give her father a comfortable cup of tea. It was nearly nine o'clock before Mr. Lake went out for his walk, and by that time it was almost dark, and the lamp outside was lighted, which was not far from the door. Lucilla had taken a seat near the window, with a view of witnessing everything, and it cannot be denied that she felt a little excited when Barbara went out of the room after her father, leaving Rose alone with her guest. Miss Marchbank's heart gave a beat or two the more in the first minute, though before the next had passed it had fallen into its usual measure. There were no candles as yet in the parlor, and naturally Grove Street, or at least the bit of it which lay before the window, lighted by the lamp outside and relieved against a little square of bluish green sky which intervened between Miss Hemming's house, and that of old Mr. Rangel on the opposite side, was very clear to the interested spectator. There was nobody visible but an organ man, who was grinding a popular melody very dolerously out of his box, in what Rose would have called the middle distance, and beyond Miss Jane Hemming's looking out of the long staircase window, and three little boys in different attitudes below, that is, if one did not count a tall figure which, perhaps with a view of listening to the music of the organ, was coming and going in a limited circuit round the light of the lamp. How convenient it is to have the lamp so near, said Lucilla. Oh, don't light any candles, please. It is so nice to sit in the dark. Where is Barbara, I wonder? Let us have some music, and put down that dreadful organ. I hope she has not gone out. And where are you, you sulky little Rose? She has gone upstairs, said Rose, who began to feel all the enormity of her conduct in dust betraying her sister. I hate sitting in the dark. I hate being a spy. Come in from the window, Lucilla. Now you are here. My dear Rose, said Miss Marjorbanks, I think you forget a little. For my part, I do not understand what being a spy means. Barbara knows very well I am here. I should scorn to take an advantage of anybody for my part, if she does not bring him past the very window, and under my eyes. Ah, yes. That is just what I thought, said Lucilla, with gentle satisfaction. But by this time poor little Rose had roused herself into an innocent fury. What is just as you thought, said Rose, laying an impatient grasp on Miss Marjorbanks' arm. Come in from the window, Lucilla, this moment, this moment. Oh, me, to think it should be my doing. Oh, Lucilla, don't be so mean and shabby and wretched. I tell you to come in, come in, directly. If you do not shut the window, and come and sit here in the corner, I will never, never speak to you again. Miss Marjorbanks, as was natural, took no notice of this childish fury. She was sitting just where she had been sitting all the evening, with inside of the street lamp and the organ grinder, and Miss Jane Hemmings at the staircase window, just where Barbara had placed her, and where the young woman calculated on finding her, when she made a promenade of triumph, up the partially lighted street by the side of her clandestine suitor. Perhaps Barbara had seen Miss Jane as well, and knew that public opinion was thus watching over her, but at all events she was not at all ashamed of herself, or indignant at being spied upon. On the contrary, it was a kind of apotheosis for Barbara, only second to the grand and crowning triumph, which would be accomplished in Carlingford Church, under the shadow of that veil of real Brussels, which grew more and more real every day. Thus neither the actors in the drama nor the principal spectator, were in the smallest degree disturbed by horror or shame or sense of guilt, accepting always the fanciful little Rose, who suffered for everybody, who could have wished that the earth would open and swallow up Barbara and her lover, who could have slaughtered Lucilla on the spot and given herself over to any kind of torture for her treachery. Naturally, nobody paid any sort of attention to Rose. Barbara for her part took her admirer's arm in the toilet with a swelling of exultation, which the gaining of the very highest prize in the department of ornamental art could scarcely have conveyed to the bosom of the little artist, and Lucilla put back her small assailant softly with her hand, and smoothed down her ruffled plumes. My dear, it is Miss Heming's satisfying, said Lucilla, and poor Barbara would be so disappointed if I were to go away from the window. Have patience just a little longer. There's a dear. It's all exactly as I thought. And then there followed a pause, which was a terrible pause for Rose. The organ grinder stopped his doleful ditty, and there was scarcely any sound to be heard in the street, except the footsteps approaching and retiring, with a measured tread of two people occupied with each other, going now more slowly, now more quickly, as the humor seized them, or as their conversation grew in interest. Even the sound of their voices came by times to the auditors, barbarous with an occasional laugh or tone of triumph, and the other deeper, with which Rose had but little acquaintance, but which was perfectly known to Lucilla. All this time, while her companion sat panting in the dark corner, Miss Margie Banks was looking to the joints of her harness and feeling the edge of her weapons, for, after all, it was no small enterprise upon which she was going forth. She was going to denounce the faithless knight to his face, and take him out of the hands of the enchantress, and show him his true dangers, and at the same time vindicate his honor. A more disinterested enterprise was never undertaken by any knight errant, and yet, at the same time, Lucilla could not help entertaining a certain involuntary contempt for the man who had deserted her own standard to put himself under that of Barbar Lake, and who was being paraded up and down here without knowing it to gratify the vanity of his new sovereign and make an exhibition of his weakness. Lucilla would have been more than mortal if she had not felt the difference between her own rule, which would have been all for his good, and the purely egotistical sway of Barbara, but this pity mingled with disdain in Miss Margie Banks' magnanimous mind. She sat quite still for so long that Barbara grew quite intoxicated with her triumph. It is perhaps the last time, Lucilla said to herself, with a movement of compassion, and the breath of her human sympathy was such that she waited till the very latest moment, and let the deluded young woman have the full enjoyment of her imaginary victory. Then Miss Margie Banks rose with a certain solemnity, and put on her hat, and gave an unappreciated kiss to Rose, who kept in her corner. Good night, I am going, said Lucilla. The words were simple enough, but yet they rang in Rose's ears like the signal of a conspiracy. When the calm leader of the expedition went forth, sensible of the importance of her mission, but tranquil as great minds always are in a moment of danger, Rose got up to and followed, trembling in every limb. She was capable of having thrown herself upon the spears in her own person in a sudden a land of indignation and passion, but she was not capable of waiting till the right moment and meeting her antagonists in reasonable combat. Miss Margie Banks went out deliberately without any unnecessary haste, sweeping into the dusky twilight with her virginal white draperies. It was a very ordinary scene, and yet, even in the midst of her excitement, Rose could not help observing involuntarily its pictorial qualities. If only any painter could have transferred to his canvas the subdued musical hum of surrounding life, the fragrance of the mignonette, and the peaceful stillness of the summer night, for there was the sky green-blue, looking across, lambant and wistful, from the vacant space between Miss Hemings and Mr. Wrangles, and the dusky twilight shadows below, and the yellow gleam of the lamp, and Barbara's exalting triumphant figure, and the white robes of the avenging angel. Rose could not have observed all this if she had not been stilled into a kind of breathless all by the solemn character of the situation, which struck her as being somehow like one of Millea's pictures. As for the lovers, they had just turned at the moment that Miss Marge Banks came out, and consequently met her, straight in the face, as she stood suave and smiling at the little garden door. "'It is, Mr. Cavendish,' said Lucilla, "'I am so glad. I have been hoping and trying to see you for ever so long, and as soon as I ever heard you talking, I felt sure it was your voice.'" This was the greeting she addressed to Barbara Lake's lover. For his part, he stood before her, growing red and growing pale, struck dumb by the unlooked-for meeting, and with such a sense of being ashamed of himself as never before had entered his mind, though no doubt he had done worse actions in his day. Even Barbara had not calculated upon this open encounter, and instead of giving him any assistance, as was a woman's duty in such a case, she only tossed her head and giggled with an embarrassment which was more pride than shame. As for Mr. Cavendish, he would have liked to disappear under the pavement if it had been possible, for once he and Rose were agreed. If a gulf had opened before him, he would have jumped into it without ever pausing to ask himself why. And yet all the time Miss Marge Banks was standing close by him, looking as placid as if she had been in her own drawing room and expecting his reply to her friendly observations. When he realized that he ought to say something, Mr. Cavendish felt that he had as much need to wipe his forehead as ever the arch-deacon had. He turned hot and cold, and felt his mind and his tongue frozen, and could not find a word to say. With a sudden horror he woke up, like one of Commas's revelers, and found himself changed into the likeness of the creature he consorted with. If he had found an ass's head on his shoulders, he could not have felt more startled and horrified than when he heard himself, in the imbecility of the moment, giggle like Barbara, and answer to Lucilla's remark, oh yes, it was my voice. I am very sorry to separate you from Barbara, said Miss Marge Banks. But she is at home, you know, and I want so much to talk to you. Barbara, good night. I want Mr. Cavendish to walk home with me. Those don't stand in the garden and catch cold. Thank you, dear, for such a pleasant evening, said Lucilla, pressing another kiss upon her little friend's unwilling cheek. When she had done this, she put out her hand to Barbara and passed her, sweeping her white garments through the narrow gateway. She took Mr. Cavendish's arm, as if he had been a young brother come to fetch her. Let us go round by the chapel, said Miss Marge Banks. I have so much to say to you. Be sure to practice for Thursday, Barbara, and bid your papa good night for me. This was how she carried off Mr. Cavendish finally out of Barbara's very fingers and under her very eyes. When the two sisters were left standing together at the door, they could do nothing but stare at each other in the extremity of their amazement. Rose, for her part, stood there but a moment, and then, feeling by far the guiltiest and most miserable of the whole party, ran upstairs to her own room and cried as if her heart would break. Barbara, on the contrary, who was past crying, stood still at the door, and watched Lucilla's white dress disappearing on the way to Grange Lane with indescribable emotions. A young woman cannot call the police, or appeal to the crier when it is her lover whom she has lost, but to see him carried off by the strong hand, to watch him gradually going away and disappearing from her eyes, to hear his steps withdrawing into the distance, was such a trial as few are called upon to bear. She stood and looked after him and could not believe her eyes, and then it was also sudden, an affair of a moment. Barbara could not realize how the world had turned round, and this revolution had been affected. One minute she had been leaning on his arm triumphant, making a show and exhibition of him in the pride of her heart, though he did not know it, and the next was not she standing here, watching him with a blank countenance and despairing heart, while Lucilla had pounced upon him and carried him off in her cruel grasp. The blow was so sudden that Barbara stood speechless and motionless, till the two departing figures had vanished into the darkness. Could he come back again tomorrow, or was he gone forever and ever? Such were the thoughts of the forsaken maiden, as she stood paralyzed under this sudden change of fortune at her father's door. If some cruel spectator had thrown into the fire that veil of Brussels, which her imagination had so long played, and Barbara had stood heart-struck, watching the filmy tissue dissolve into ashes before her eyes, her sense of sudden anguish could not have been more acute, and yet, after all, Barbara's pangs were nothing to those of Mr. Cavendish, as he felt Ms. Margie Banks' light touch on his arm, and felt his doomed feet turn in spite of himself in the most dangerous direction, and became conscious that he was being led beyond all possibility of resistance back to Grange Lane and to his fate. To be sure it was dark, which was one consolation, but it was not dark enough to conceal Lucila's white dress, nor the well-known form and lineaments of the young monarch of Grange Lane, in whose company nobody could pass unobserved. Mr. Cavendish could have faced danger by sea and land, with the average amount of courage, but the danger of the walk down the little street, which afterwards led to St. Rook's, and up the empowered stillness of Grange Lane, was more than he was equal to. He could not be sure of making a single step by these garden walls without meeting somebody who knew him, somebody whose curiosity might ruin him in Carlingford, or even without the risk of encountering in the face that arch-enemy who would not go away, and whose presence had banished him from the place. It may be supposed that, under these terrible circumstances, Mr. Cavendish's thoughts of Barbara, who had got him into this scrape, were far from loverlike. He was a man universally popular among ladies, and who owed a great deal of the social consideration which he prized so highly to this fact, and yet the most gentle sentiment in his mind at that moment was a confound these women, which he breathed to himself all low and deep, as he went slowly along by Lucila's side. As for Miss Marge Banks, as may be supposed, her thoughts were of a very much more serious description than anything her unlucky cavalier was thinking of, and a minute or two passed in silence before she could make up her mind to speak. I have been thinking a great deal about you lately, and wishing very much to see you, said Lucila. Did not Mrs. Woodburn tell you? I think I should have written to you. Had I known your address? And I am sure you would have made me the happiest of men, said the victim, with rueful politeness. What had I done to deserve such a privilege? But my sister did not tell me. She left me to hear it from your own— Yes, said Miss Marge Banks, with a certain solemnity interrupting him. I have been thinking a great deal, and hearing a great deal about you, Mr. Cavendish. When she had said this, Lucila sighed, and her sigh found a terrible echo in her hearer's bosom. She knew that he had turned green in the darkness, as he gave an anxious look at her. But he was too much alarmed to give her an opportunity of studying his face. Ha! Hearing of me, he said, and tried to laugh. What have my kind friends been saying? And for one moment the sufferer tried to delude himself that it was some innocent gossip about Barbara, which might be circulating in Grange Lane. Hush, said Lucila, don't laugh, please, for I want to have a very serious talk. I have been hearing about you from some very, very old friends, Mr. Cavendish, not anything about this, you know. Miss Marge Banks added, waving her hand in the direction of Grove Street, and then Barbara Lake, and everything connected with her, vanished like a shadow from the unfortunate man's mind. It was horribly ungrateful on his part, but it was, as Miss Marge Banks would have said, just what might have been expected, and how they always behave. He had no longer any time or patience for the object which had been giving occupation and interest to his solitude. He woke up in a moment, and gave a passing curse to his folly, and faced the real danger, as he best could. You must be making a mistake, Miss Marge Banks, he said, with some bitterness. It should have been very, very old enemy. I know who it is. It is that Archdeacon you ladies make such a fuss about. What is he who has been telling lies about me? Said Mr. Cavendish, he breathed a deep hard breath as he spoke, and a blood came back to his face. Perhaps for the first moment he felt satisfied, and breathed freer after it was over, but at the same time it was very dreadful to him to feel that he was found out, and that henceforward Grange Lane would shut its doors and avert his countenance. If you take his word for it, I may give in at once. He continued bitterly, a parson will say anything, they are as bad as, as women. This the poor man said in his despair, because he did not know what he was saying. For in reality he knew that women had been his best friends, and that he had still a chance, if the judgment was to rest with them. You are very ungrateful to say so, said Miss Marge Banks. But it is only because you are excited, I suppose. No, Mr. Cavendish, it was not the Archdeacon. On the contrary, it was a lady, and she said nothing but good of you, said Lucilla, and then there was a pause. As for Mr. Cavendish, it would be altogether impossible to describe the state of his mind. He was like a man suddenly reprieved, but giddy with a shock, and feeling the halters still round his neck, and knowing that he had himself undermined the ground on which he was standing. It was Lucilla who supported him in the shock of the moment, for all his self-command could not keep him from a momentary shiver and stagger when he found that things were not so bad as he thought. A lady, and she said nothing but good, he muttered under his breath, and then he made an effort to recover himself. Pardon me, I cannot guess whom my unknown friend may be. It is very soothing, to one's feelings, to be spoken well of by a lady, said Mr. Cavendish. And he left again in a discordant, unsteady way. As for Lucilla, she regarded him through all these fluctuations with a natural pity, and at the same time with the calmness of the knowledge which was aware of all and had nothing more to discover. And at the end Mr. Cavendish, in the midst of his agitation, perceived her calm, and the absence of wonder and curiosity in her face, and began to perceive that he had something very serious to deal with, more serious even, than he had at first supposed. I am going to tell you all about it, said Miss Marge Banks, but in the meantime wait a minute and let me speak to you. First I have something to say. It was for this they stopped short at the foot of Grange Lane, just where the land was already parceled out for St. Rook's. What Lucilla was going to say was too important to be spoken while walking, and naturally she withdrew her hand from Mr. Cavendish's arm. They were both so much absorbed that they did not see anybody coming, nor indeed had any attention to spare for external affairs. The blood had deserted Mr. Cavendish's face, and he was once more green with anxiety and in quietude. He stood facing her, feeling that the crisis of his fate had come, and not knowing whether it was absolute despair or a faint dawning of hope that possessed him, if he had been the most passionate of lovers, and if she had held in her hands the dreadful alternative between rapture and misery there could not have been a more rapt and absorbing attention in Mr. Cavendish's face. I want to tell you, first of all, that you must have confidence in me, said Lucilla. You must have confidence in me. We can do nothing without that. I know everything Mr. Cavendish, Miss Marge Banks added compassionately, everything, but nobody else knows it. I hope I can arrange everything if it is left in my hands. This is what I wanted to tell you, first of all, before everything you must have confidence in me. What Mr. Cavendish might have answered to this solemn appeal, it would be in vain to imagine, for the truth was he was stopped before he could utter a word. He was stopped and seized by the hand, and greeted with a frankness which was perhaps all the more loud and cordial, from what appeared to the newcomer the comic character of the situation. It is Cavendish by Jove, the intruder exclaimed, waving his hand to some people who were coming on behind him. I beg a thousand pardons for disturbing you, my dear fellow, but they all talk about you so, that I was determined to make sure it was you, good heavens, Miss Marge Banks. General Travers added, taking off his hat. It was Mr. and Mrs. Sentom who were coming down behind him. She with a light shawl thrown over her head, tempted out by the beauty of the evening, and Lucilla saw in a moment the consequences of this encounter, and how it would be overall Carlingford, before tomorrow morning, that she and Mr. Cavendish were betrothed at the very least. Miss Marge Banks had all her wits about her as ever, fortunately for both. Yes, it is me, she said calmly. I have been taking tea with the lakes, and I made Mr. Cavendish give me his arm home. He did not like being found out, to be sure, but he could not help himself, and we all know about that, Lucilla added, with a smile, taking once more the unfortunate man's arm. Oh, yes, we all know, said Mrs. Sentom with a laugh, but yet, notwithstanding, everybody felt sure that it was all Lucilla's cleverness, and that Barbara Lake was a myth and fiction, and it was thus that, with Miss Marge Banks leaning on his arm, and General Travers, in all the warmth of renewed friendship, guarding him on the other side, Mr. Cavendish, whose head was in a whirl of excitement, and who did not know what he was doing, was led back in triumph, past Colonel Chiley's very door, where the archdeacon was lying in wait, to crunch his bones, back from all his aberrations into the very heart of Grange Lane. End of Chapter 29. Recording by Marysel Quay. Chapter 30 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. Oliphant. Chapter 30. Mr. Cavendish was led back to his own house that evening by General Travers, whose claim of acquaintance was too decided to be rejected. He never knew very well what passed between the moment when Miss Marge Banks began to expound him, the urgent necessity that he should confide in her, and the moment in which he found himself in his own house, admitted eagerly by the surprised and anxious servants, and conducted by the energetic soldier, that he had taken leave of Lucilla at her own door, that he had watched her white dress sweep away into the dark garden with a faint sense that it was his only remaining protector who thus left him, and that after that he had smoked a horrible cigar with Mr. Sentom, and been brought home by the old acquaintance who had turned up at so unlucky a moment, was all that the poor man was aware of, and yet it is to be supposed that on the whole he behaved himself very much like other people, since General Travers had no distinct idea that his company was undesirable, or that his cordial recognition was anything but welcome. The General, indeed, took it as quite natural under the circumstances that Cavendish should be a little confused. A man who is no longer a very young man, and has a character to support, does not care to be found moaning with the object of his affections on a summer evening like a boy of twenty, and General Travers was perfectly aware that he had thus a very good joke against Cavendish. It is worth a man's while to set up a bachelor establishment in the country, the General said. By Jove, I wish I could do it. It makes a fellow feel arcadian, and ready for anything. And for his own part, he was very ready to seize upon his former acquaintance, a man who belonged to his club, and had a chance to know what he was talking about. As for Charlie Sentom, the soldier said, What between business and matrimony he has grown the greatest guy imaginable, and I can't go off directly, you know, and then there's always this business about the depot. It's immense luck to find you here, Cavendish. General Travers added with flattering cordiality. And if poor Mr. Cavendish was not grateful, it certainly was not his friend's fault. He led the way into his house with a glum countenance, and a sinking heart, though fortunately the latter was not visible. It was a very nice house, fitted up with all that luxury of comfort, which a man who has, as Mrs. Sentom said, only himself to look to, can afford to collect around him. Mr. Cavendish had only himself, and he had made his habitation perfect, though, on the whole, he did not pass a very great deal of his time at home. He had some nice pictures in a good library, though he was not particularly given to the arts, and he had an admirable seller, as all the gentlemen owned in Carlingford, though for his own part, he was very moderate in that point, and did not give himself any airs on the subject. Mr. Sentom, on the contrary, was one of the men who talked about vintages and raised expectations never to be carried out, and General Travers could not but feel the force of the contrast as he sat deep into the night and talked over everything, with a man whom by that time he felt convinced was one of his best friends. As for Mr. Cavendish, it would be very difficult to describe his feelings. He had been knocking about in all sorts of poor places, making clandestine visits to his sister, and hovering round the more-than-suburban simplicity of Grove Street, and the sense of being once more enveloped and surrounded by all that was pleasant to the eye, and comfortable to the outer man was wonderfully consolatory and agreeable, but his mind was in a dreadfully harassed condition all the same. He was preoccupied to the last degree, wondering what Miss Marchbanks really knew, and how far he had betrayed himself, and to what extent it would be safe, as she herself said, to confide in Lucila, and at the same time he was obliged to listen and to show a certain interest in the general stories, and to make now and then a painful effort of mine to recall some of the mutual friends referred to, whose names and persons had in the meantime slipped out of his memory. All the babble of the club, which General Travers felt must be so refreshing to the ears of a rusticated member, fell as flat upon Mr. Cavendish, whose mind was full of other matters, as if it had been the merest old woman's gossip, which, to be sure, it slightly resembled in some points. The gallant general made himself so agreeable that he nearly drove the unfortunate man out of his senses, and when he had exhausted all other means of aggravation, returned with fresh zest to the sentimental circumstances in which, as he supposed, he had found his companion out. Very sensible, I call it, said General Travers. To be candid, I don't call her strictly handsome, you know, she's too big for that, and I don't suppose she's of any family to speak of, though perhaps you don't mind that trifling circumstance, but a woman that will dress well and light up well and knows how to give a man a capital dinner by jove, and no doubt has a pretty little bit of money into the bargain, I respect your taste, Cavendish, said the friendly critic, with a fusion, and somehow this applause irritated its recipient more than all that had gone before. I'm sure I am much obliged to you, said Mr. Cavendish, though unfortunately I don't merit your approbation. Miss Marchbanks is a great friend of mine, but she won't have me, and I don't mean to ask her. At the same time, she has very good connections, and that is not the way to talk of a girl of twenty. She is worth a dozen of your fast young ladies, said the sufferer, with some heat. He was not in the least in love with Lucilla, and indeed had a certain dread of her at this present moment, but he could not forget that she had once stood by him in his need, and besides, he was glad of any subject on which he could contradict his vista. I daresay her family is better than either yours or mine. Scotch, you know, said Mr. Cavendish, trying to laugh. As for the general, he leaned back in his chair with an indulgent air, and stroked his mustache. Beg your pardon, meant no offence, he said. For my part, I don't see that it matters if a woman is good-looking and has something, you know, for instance, there was a pretty little thing, a charming little thing, lake or something like that. Ah! said Mr. Cavendish. It was a frightful want of self-control, but he had been a long time at full strain, and he could not help it. It did not occur to him for the moment that nobody in his senses would have applied the term little thing to Barbara, and after all the slow aggravation that he had been submitting to, the idea of this insolent soldier interfering in Grove Street was beyond his power of endurance. As for the general, the tone of this exclamation was such, he too turned round on his chair and said, yes, with equally unmistakable meaning, startled but ready for the emergency, whatever it might be. Thus the two looked at each other for a second, friends in the ordinary acceptation of the word, and yet perhaps on the eve of becoming enemies. Mr. Cavendish had up to that moment pretty nearly forgotten Barbara Lake. It was a frequent sort of occupation when he had nothing else to do, and when the world, according to his morbid fancy, was on the eve of turning its back upon him, but from the moment when he had said between his teeth, confound these women, and had felt the excitement of the approaching crisis, Barbara and her crimson cheeks and her level eyebrows and her contralto had gone altogether out of his mind. At the same time a man may feel himself at liberty to forget a woman when other matters of more immediate interest are absorbing his attention and yet be driven furious by the idea suddenly presented to him that somebody else, who has nothing earthly to do with it, is about to interfere. Mr. Cavendish, however, recovered himself while the general sat staring at him as ridiculous his defiance was. Well, go on. I did not say anything, he said, and lighted another cigar. Yet he did not face his companion as a friendly listener should, but began to beat measure to an irritating imaginary air on the table with a certain savage energy by moments, as if he were beating time on the general's head. Then why do you stop a fellow short like that? said General Travers. He was going to tell you of someone I saw the other day in the house of your your friend, you know. She was under Ms. March Bank's wing and that was how I saw her and I hope you are not playing the gay deceiver, my friend. A little thing round-faced hazel-eyed, a little soft rosebud sort of creature said the general, growing eloquent. By Jove Cavendish I hope you don't mean to make yourself disagreeable. What sort of looks, you know. It was rose, I suppose, said Mr. Cavendish, relieved in a moment, and to tell the truth he could not help laughing. The more eloquent and angry the general grew, the more amused and contemptuous grew his entertainer. He was so tickled by the position of affairs that he actually forgot his anxieties for the moment. No doubt it was rose. He repeated and left. Anybody could see in that little dragon and then the contrast between the soldier who prided himself on his knowledge of the world and liked to talk of position, etc., to the annoyance of those who had none and the amusement of those who happened to possess that valuable qualification and the mistress of the female school of design failed Mr. Cavendish with amusement. Perhaps all the more because he himself was in a similar scrape but at all events, being in the same position, he ought not to have found it so ridiculous as he seemed to do. As for General Travers, he was as much disposed to be angry as a moment before Mr. Cavendish had been. It might be rose, he said, or lily either, for anything I can tell, but there is nothing laughable in it that I can see. You seem to be perfectly all-corrent at all events, which I hope is quite satisfactory to Ms. Marge Banks, said the soldier, and then he resumed after a disagreeable little pause. I suppose everybody meets there on Thursday according to what they tell me. What do you do with yourself Cavendish in a general way? So far as I can see there ain't very much attraction. These steady-going dinners are enough to kill any man, always accepting your friends, said General Travers with a slight sneer. It's tomorrow, ain't it, Thursday? And he looked with what seemed to his victim an insulting consciousness in poor Cavendish's face, but in reality the general did not mean to be insulting, and knew nothing but ever of the horrible internal pound which rent his companion when it was thus recalled to him that it was, tomorrow, a fact which up to this moment had not to the unfortunate. Tomorrow, and not even tomorrow, today, for by this time it was two o'clock in the morning and the unwelcome intruder was wasting the little time he had for deciding what he should do. Once more his own personal anxieties, which he had put aside for a moment at the sudden dictate of jealousy, surged over everything and swallowed up all lesser sensations. Tomorrow, and by this time nobody knew that he was in Carlingford and he could not stay away from the weekly assembly without attracting general attention to himself and throwing open the floodgates of suspicion. What was he to do? Should he turn his back on the enemy once and for all and run away and break off his connection with Carlingford? Or should he dare everything and face the archdeacon and put his trust in Lucilla as that high-minded young woman had invited him to do? With these thoughts in his mind it may be supposed that Mr. Cavendish gave but a very mingled attention to the babble of his visitor who found the wine so good and the cigars exquisite and perhaps had begun to be a little moved out of his ordinary lucidity by their effect. You've got a nice little house, Cavendish, said the general, but it's too small for a married man, my boy. These women are the very juice for turning a man out of his comfortable quarters. You'll have to go in for boudoirs and those sort of things and by George you'll be an ass if you do with a snug little box like this to retire into, said the philosophical warrior. And poor Cavendish smiled a ghastly smile with the strongest inclination all the time to take him by the collar and turn him out of doors. But then he was a warrior and a member of the same club in six feet high, all which particulars not to speak of the sacred rites of hospitality made it somewhat difficult to carry this idea out. Don't you think Centum will be sitting up for you? he said mildly. It's past two o'clock and it's Thursday morning. The victim said with a sigh the last words were an involuntary utterance of his own despair but fortunately they struck General Traverse Vane a fumer which happened to be lively at the moment and worked the desired but unexpected result. The general laughed loud and long and declared that he respected a man who was above board and meant to look respectable for Ms. Marjbang's sake and then he poured a mighty libation to Lucila and took an affectionate leave of her supposed lover. The general made a great commotion in the decorous quiet of Grange Lane when he knocked at Mr. Centum's door. Though it was nearly three o'clock in the morning nothing but his inherent dread of a woman would have prevented him from knocking up the banker to share his hilarity but Mrs. Centum in her nightcap, peaceably asleep as she was at the moment daunted the soul of the gallant soldier and naturally his recollection was not very perfect next day. I had something very funny to tell you but by Jove I forget what it was. General Travers said next morning when he met his hosted breakfast and thus Mr. Cavendish was spared the laugh which the two might have had against him but for his part he shut his door upon his departing guest without any sense poor fellow of having done or said anything in the least funny. He said thank heaven with a kind of groan of relief when his troublesome visitor was gone and then he went back again to his library where they had been sitting perhaps he never fully appreciated before the comfort of everything the handsome house which he had enjoyed so long without thinking anything of it and all the pleasant luxurious accessories of life he had been doing without them for a week or two and he had not liked it and it seemed to Mr. Cavendish that he could rather be content to lose them all at a stroke to make it known in Carlingford that he was ruined and had lost his fortune then that Carlingford should find out that he was not after all one of the Cavendishes nor the person it took him for but alas all his fortune could not bring reality to these pretensions nor hinder the exposure to which he looked forward with such horror it is true that he was an adventurer but he was not a base one nor had he done anything dishonorable either to gain his fortune or to captivate the good opinion of society which had become so important to him but there are actual crimes that would be sooner forgiven to a man than the folly of having permitted himself to be considered one of the Cavendishes and having set his heart on making a figure in that mild provincial world the Cavendish knew enough of human nature to know that a duchess or a Lord Chamberlain would forgive more readily than Mr. and Mrs. Sentom any such imposition upon them an intrusion into their exclusive circle and then his sister who could not run away for her sake it seemed to him that he had better rush off at once and sell his house and furniture and horses and give up Carlingford as he thought of that the Lord came upon him stronger than ever perhaps a man who has always been used to be recognized as one of the members of a local aristocracy would not have seen anything have so precious as Mr. Cavendish saw in the fact of being everywhere known and acknowledged as a constituent part of Grange Lane recognized by the country people and by the poor people and pointed out as he passed by one and another to any stranger who might happen to be so ignorant to know Mr. Cavendish to people who are not used to it there is a charm in this universal acknowledgement and then he had more need of it than most men have and when Carlingford signed his patent of gentility and acknowledged and prized him it did an infinite deal more than it had any intention of doing to keep his regard and recognition he would have done anything given up the half or three parts or even on emergency all he had perhaps he had an undue confidence in the magnanimity of society and was too sure that in such a case it would behave with the grandeur worthy of the occasion but still he was quite right in thinking that it could forgive the loss of his fortune sooner than his real offence and now it was Thursday morning the day of trial and what was he to do when a man has thoughts like these to entertain him can be more useless than to go to bed although in ordinary circumstances at three o'clock in the morning that is about the only thing one can do poor Mr. Cavendish however was not quite free to act as he thought proper he had been a long time away from home and he did not feel himself in a position to shock his servants feelings with impunity he went to his room accordingly like a martyr carrying all his difficulties with him and those unpleasant companions naturally made a night of it when they thus had him all to themselves when sheer fatigue and exhaustion procured him a moment's sleep it was only getting deeper and deeper into trouble for then it was the Archdeacon who had planted a heavy foot on his neck or General Travers who with still more fatal force had found out the way to Grove Street when Mr. Cavendish awoke he said to himself I can found these women with more fervor than ever but at the same time he swore a mighty oath to himself that he would horse whip the fellow who ventured to come in his way Barbara Lake might be no great things but at least it was to him and no one else that she belonged such was the complication that afforded him a little outlet for his temper in the midst of the dreadful difficulties of his position and the question which was constantly renewing itself in his thoughts as to whether he should go or stay the idea of presenting himself in the center of society in Ms. Marge Banks drawing room and being met by the Archdeacon and held up to public contempt there and then with all the world looking on and even Travers who would carry the narrative out of Carlingford was something too horrible to be contemplated and yet how was he to escape he was still in this state of mind driven backwards and forwards by every new wind when the morning came and when Ms. Marge Banks note was put into his hand for the truth was that after long consideration Lucilla had determined that the matter was one which could not be permitted to stand over she was of too energetic a temperament to let things linger on in an uncertain way when they could be made an end of and brought to a conclusion to predict what sudden and unexpected turn human affairs may take it was always possible that if Ms. Marge Banks did not make an end of the business dramatically and to the satisfaction of everybody concerned it might be found some fine day to have resolved itself by means of some one of those illegitimate and incomplete expedience which abound in ordinary life it was with this view that Ms. Marge Banks took the step of writing Mr. Cavendish she had written in the sacred retirement of her own maiden chamber when all the world was still perhaps at the moment when General Travers was as he would himself have vulgarly called it chafing Cavendish about a beautiful and disinterested friendship which united him to the young sovereign of Grange Lane but naturally such poor railery was far from the virginal thoughts of Lucilla at that retired in sacred hour to add that the elevating influence of the maiden's bower in which she composed it and of the tranquil moment of meditation and solitude breathed in every line and gave force to every sentiment of the letter which Mr. Cavendish tore open with an excited hand perhaps he was too anxious and curious to give it the solemn perusal which it ought to have received my dear Mr. Cavendish it was very unlucky that we should have been interrupted this evening at such an important moment when I had so much to say to you but I think the best thing I can do is write feeling quite sure that when you know all you cannot possibly mistake my motives everybody has retired and I'm quite alone and the silence footnote it is only justice to Miss March Banks to say that she was not addicted to fine writing but then she was a person who liked to have everything in keeping with urgency such as the present does not come every day and requires to be treated accordingly and a footnote and the silence seems to me full of meaning when I think that the fate of a person for whom I have so great a regard may be hanging upon it I might be afraid of writing to you so frankly if I did not feel quite sure that you would appreciate my intention dear Mr. Cavendish it is not he does not know it is you therefore of course he could not say anything directly bearing upon you but then you know if he were to meet you by hazard as he is sure to do someday and for my part I rather think he is fond of Grove Street you would be exposed at once and everything would be lost for we all know the prejudices that exist in Carlingford I have another plan of operations to propose to you which I feel quite sure is for your good and also naturally for the good of anybody to whom you may intend to unite your fortunes I feel quite sure that it is far safer to adopt a bold resolution and to have it over at once come to dinner tomorrow if you may happen to find an enemy you will find also an unlooked-for friend and so far as I am concerned you know that you may calculate on my support I do not wonder at your being anxious about it but if you will only have full confidence in me and a little in yourself believe me it will be all over in a night if there had ever been anything between you and me as these stupid people suppose I might have felt hesitation in writing to you like this but when I know a thing to be right I hope I will never be afraid to do it I have been called upon to do many things that are not common for girls of my age and perhaps that is why I made up my mind to set this all straight for you once more I repeat dear Mr. Cavendish have confidence in me come tomorrow evening as if nothing had happened and take my word for it that all will go well your friend Lucilla Marge Banks PS if you would like to come and talk it over with me tomorrow I shall be at home till 12 o'clock but unless it will be a satisfaction to your own mind it is not necessary for me for I have all my plans laid it would be quite out of the question to attempt any explanation of Mr. Cavendish's feelings when he read this letter his utter bewilderment, his terror his rage, his final helpless sense that it would be utterly hopeless for him or half a dozen men to enter the field against this curious complication of unknown friends and open enemies and generous protectors took away from him the last remnant of courage he did not know what to do or think he swallowed his coffee with a sense of despair and sent the rest of his breakfast away untasted thus betraying without intending it his emotions to his kitchen it stands to reason as there is a cause for it Mr. Cavendish's domestics concluded in committee of the whole house though surely if ever man had good reason for not eating his breakfast it was he when he had gone over it all again till his head had grown utterly confused and his thoughts were all topsy-turvy Mr. Cavendish took a sudden resolution he went upstairs and changed his dress with a certain solemnity he made a toilet more careful than if he were going as he once had gone to propose it was like Nelson going into gala uniform for a battle and then he went out to discover if possible what was coming to him the difference was that in this battle no honor but only a possible salvage of reputation and fortunate escape was to be gained it is possible that some people may think Mr. Cavendish's emotions too acute for all the danger to which he was exposed but no doubt every alarm gets intensified when a man broods on it and thinks of nothing else for weeks at a time all that he had to do at the present moment was to walk into Carlingford by the most frequented way and to go up Grange Lane where every house was open to him and where nobody was so great a favorite as he there were as many chances in his favor that he would not in that friendly neighborhood encounter his one enemy as there is for every man who goes into action that the bullet which is predestined to strike somebody will not be directed to him but then Mr. Cavendish had not the excitement of personal conflict nor the kind of security which is given by sharing a risk with a great many other people I see everything smiling and serene around and yet to know that the most deadly danger may arrive to you at any innocent opening or around the first street corner is a kind of risk which naturally tells upon the nerves more than a more open peril Mr. Cavendish met Dr. Marchbanks and the doctor was good enough to stop his brolem and keep him in conversation for five minutes with his back to the foe if foe there was approaching and then he met Mrs. Childe who all but kissed him and was so glad to see him again and so pleased that he was in time to make acquaintance with the Archdeacon and so sure that Lucilla would be quite happy now he had come back perhaps I ought not to say so but I know she has missed you said the injudicious old lady and she took both his hands and held the miserable man in a kind of pillory from whence he gazed looking eyes over her shoulder feeling sure that now was the fatal moment and that his enemy must be coming but fortune still favored him as it happened he had the presence of mind to say I'm going to call on Ms. Marchbanks and Mrs. Childe dropped his hands on the instant as if they burned her and patted him on the arm and sent him away she's sure to be in just now and I'm so glad and my dear you need not mind me for I am both your friends you know Mrs. Childe said but when he was delivered from that danger something still more formidable awaited the unfortunate man he could not believe his eyes at first nor conceive it possible that fate would have such a spite against him but there was no mistaking the crumpled dress any more than the straight eyebrows and flashing oblique glances that had already found him out of all the horrible chances in the world Barbara Barbara who had a right to think he had deserted her on the previous night and with whom his next interview could not be otherwise in stormy who thus appeared like a lion in his way when he saw what awaited him Mr. Cavendish lost courage his heart sank down into unfathomable depths he did not know what he could say to her to shorten the inevitable interview nor how he could escape nor how hinder her from discovering that it was Lucilla he was going to see and he had no longer any doubt in his mind that while he was thus engaged the Archdeacon must inevitably appear if he had time to think of ordinary subjects he would have been sufficiently annoyed at the idea of an interview with Barbara in broad daylight on the sacred soil of Grange Lane where all the world could or might be spectators but such a merely prudential sentiment was entirely swallowed up today in much more urgent considerations he would not have been content just now in the horror of the moment to plight his troughs to Barbara by way of getting rid of her and leaving his path clear but he could not stop her or himself from advancing and dared not give any vent to the panic which was consuming his soul oh, I am sure I never thought of seeing you here Mr. Cavendish said Barbara with a toss of her head she would have done a great deal to secure her wavering lover but she could not be amiable at a moment when she had him at a disadvantage perhaps you are going to see Ms. Marge Banks said the foolish young woman to tell the truth she did not suspect him of any such treachery but naturally her heart was beating louder than usual and she had the best position of the two or thought she had and chose what she supposed to say but it is always hard to tell what a man may do when he is in a state of despair Mr. Cavendish looked her in the face with a composure of desperation though she did not know that all that he was able to think of was how to get rid of her soonest and to be able to continue his way yes, I am going to see Ms. Marge Banks he said with a face which extremity rendered stolid and impassable as for poor Barbara her color changed in a moment the very least that she had her right to expect was that she should have asked her pardon put himself at her feet and her mingled spite and humiliation and mortification at this response were beyond telling her cheeks blazed with sudden rage her passion was so furious that she actually did what he wanted and stood out of his way and made him an imperious sign to pass on and leave her and then she did not expect to be taken at her word when Mr. Cavendish took off his hat in that harkest way and passed on Barbara stood aghast not able to believe her senses had he really passed and left her she who had done so much for him had he actually gone over to her adversary before her very eyes she stood stock still when he left her gazing after him blazing with rage and despite and scarcely able to keep herself from shrieking out the torrent of reproaches and vituperations that were in her mind she made no attempt whatever to hide her wrath or jealous curiosity from any eyes that might be there to see but to be sure she had as her sister said no proper pride if Mr. Cavendish had carried out his intentions the chances are that Barbara, driven desperate would have rushed after him and found some means of breaking in an interview with Lucilla but after all this badgering he had not the courage to carry out his intentions he looked down the long sun-shiny line of Grange Lane with a sickening sense that any of these doors might open at any moment and his fate rushed out upon him there was not a soul to be seen but that only made it all the more likely to poor Mr. Cavendish's distempered fancy that somebody was coming he had not even a single thought to give to Barbara and never asked himself whether or not she was standing watching him all his senses and faculties were engaged forecasting what might happen to him before he could reach Dr. Marger Bank's house he was approaching it from the lower end of Grange Lane and consequently had everything to risk and when Mr. Sentom's door opened and all the nurses and all the children poured out the unfortunate man felt his heart jump and jump again if possible lower than ever it was this that drove him instead of going on to Lucila to take refuge in his sister's house where the door happened to be open he rushed in there and took breath and was safe for the instant but Barbara for her part watching him defined none of Mr. Cavendish's reasons her heart too gave a jump and her wrath cooled down miraculously no doubt it was a little more than a few seconds at being questioned which had made him answer as he did he had not gone to Lucila he had not deserted her standard who had always met him halfway and done so much for him Barbara calmed down as she saw him enter at Mrs. Woodburn's door after having thus witnessed his safe exit she felt at liberty to go back and return to her own affairs and prepare her toilet for the evening for it moved her very little less than Mr. Cavendish to know that it was Thursday and that there was no telling what might happen that night as for the hero of all this commotion he went and buried himself in Mrs. Woodburn's back-drawing room and threw himself on the sofa in the dark corner and wiped his forehead like the arch-deacon it was not his fault if events had overwhelmed him if he had not met in succession Dr. Marchbanks and Mrs. Chiley and Barbara he would have gone right to Lucila stopping to question himself further but he could not bear all this accumulation panic had seized upon him and this panic wrought more effectually than all argument it was so terrible to live under such a shadow that he felt it must be put an end to if only he were left at rest for this moment he felt that he could make up his mind to take the perilous leap at night and dare anything it can't be worse than ruin he said to himself and tried not to think that for his sister it might be something even worse than ruin but the first thing of all was to get a little rest in the meantime and hide himself and forget the nightmare that was seated on his shoulders when Mrs. Woodburn came to him in haste and saw his careful dress and pale looks she was frightened for the moment she thought it possible for one second that the spare had driven him out of his wits and that there might be for anything she could tell a little bottle of Prusik Acid in his waistcoat pocket that was her first idea and her second was that he was going to carry out at last his most wise and laudable resolution of proposing to Ms. Marjabanks and that it was this naturally a serious and hazardous enterprise which made him look so pale Harry if you are going to Lucilla said Mrs. Woodburn wait and rest yourself a little and I will get you a glass of wine keep still there's some toke said the anxious sister don't you go and worry yourself you shall see nobody I'll bring it to you with my own hand oh confirm the toke said Mr. Cavendish I know what Woodburn's toke is that mattered look here I want to speak to you I was going to Lucilla but I'm not up to it oh not in the way you think I wouldn't be a fool like everybody I'll tell you she wouldn't have me and I won't ask her read this which is much more to the purpose Mr. Cavendish added taking out to Ms. Marjabanks letter he watched her while she read it with that sense of contempt and superiority which a man naturally feels who has advanced much beyond the point in any special matter at which his interlocutor is still stationary he even yelled at her cry of horror and amazement and found the agitation she showed ridiculous don't make a row about it he said regaining his color as his sister lost hers it's alright I can't ask Lucilla Marjabanks to have me after that but I mean to put my trust in her as she says I was going to ask her to explain but after all on thinking of it I don't see the good of explanations said Mr. Cavendish but Mrs. Woodburn was scarcely in a condition to reply much less to give any advice oh good heavens what does she know cried the termling woman quite reduced to her own identity for the moment what do you suppose she can know she gave me a dreadful fright coming and asking about you and your name and then she never was a great friend of mine and if she should say any thing to Woodburn oh Harry go away go away and don't face her you know you slighted her and she's laying a snare for us oh Harry go away she can't do you much harm but she could ruin me and any little peace I have Woodburn would never, never forgive Woodburn would be frantic you know it has always been he that made a fuss about the Cavendishes and good heavens to be in a girl's power and she won that you have slighted Harry oh for heaven's sake for pity's sake if you care anything for me hold your tongue Nellie said Mr. Cavendish don't make a row what on earth is the use of heaven's saking I tell you I am going to make an end of it if I were to run away now it would turn up again at some other corner and some other moment give me a pen and a bit of paper I will write a note and say I am coming I don't want any explanations if it's all a mistake so much the better but I am going to face it out tonight it was some time before Mrs. Woodburn recovered her senses but in the meantime her brother wrote Lucilla his note and in sight of his sister's agitation felt himself perfectly composed and serene and manful it even made him complacent a little to feel the difference that there was when the emergency really arrived at last between his own manly calm and her womanish panic but then it was for herself that she was afraid lest her husband should find out that she was not one of the Cavendish's you must have been giving yourself errors on that subject Mr. Cavendish said as he fastened up his note I never was so foolish as that for my part and naturally the more he admired his own steadiness and courage the steadier and more courageous he grew at least so he felt for the moment with her terror before his eyes if you do go said Mrs. Woodburn at last oh Harry for goodness sake mind that you deny everything if you confess to anything it will all be proved against you don't allow a single thing that's said to you it's a mistaken identity you know that is what it is there was a case in the papers just the other day oh Harry for heaven's sake don't be weak deny everything you don't know anything about it you don't know what they mean you can't understand it is I that have to do it Nelly said Mr. Cavendish more and more tranquil and superior you must let me do it my way and he was very kind and reassuring to her in his composure this was how things ought to be and it was astonishing how much he gained in his own mind in estimation by Mrs. Woodburn's panic being the stronger vessel he was of course superior to all that but somehow when he had got back to his own house again and had no longer the spectacle of his sister's terror before him the courage began to ooze out of Mr. Cavendish's finger points he tried hard to stimulate himself up to the same point and to regain that lofty and assured position but as the evening approached matters grew rather worse than better he did not turn in because flight in the present alarmed and touchy state of public opinion would have equally been destruction and nobody could answer for it how far if he failed to obey her Ms. Marjbank's discretion might go and thus the eventful evening fell and the sun went down which was to Mr. Cavendish as if it might be the last sun he should ever metaphorically see while in the meantime all the other people dressed for dinner the evening was going to happen and as if it was merely a Thursday like other Thursdays which was coming on Grange Lane End of Chapter 31 Recording by Mary Selquie Chapter 32 of Ms. Marj Banks This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Ms. Marj Banks by Mrs. Oliphant Chapter 32 Lucilla waited till 12 o'clock as she has said for Mr. Cavendish's visit and so mingled her human sentiments even in the mind of a person of genius that there is no doubt she was at once a little disappointed and that Mr. Cavendish gained largely in her estimation by not coming her pity began to be mingled by a certain respect which to tell the truth he was not worthy but then Ms. Marj Banks did not know that it was circumstances and not self-regard or any sense of dignity that had kept him back with the truest consideration it was in the dining room that Lucilla had placed herself to await his visit for she had made up her mind that he should not be disturbed this time by any untimely morning caller who walked out upon the garden and was tantalized by 50 successive ringings of the bell none of which heralded her expected visitor a gentler sentiment gradually grew in Lucilla's mind perhaps it would not be just to call it positively regret but yet she could not help a kind of impression that if the Archdeacon had never come to Carlingford and if Mr. Cavendish was occupied by Barbara Lake and if everything had gone as might have been expected from first appearances that on the whole it might have been well after all he had a great many good qualities he had yielded to panic for the moment but as far as Lucilla knew he was now girding up his loins to meet the emergency in a creditable way and if as has been just said if there had come in the way if there had been no Archdeacon no Mrs. Mortimer no Barbara if Mr. Chiltern had died as was to have been expected and Mr. Cavendish been elected for Carlingford then Lucilla could not help a momentary sense that the arrangement altogether might have been a not undesirable one now of course all that was at an end by dexterous management and the worst avoided but Lucilla became regretfully conscious that now no fate higher than Barbara was possible for the unfortunate man who might once and with hope have aspired to herself it was very sad but there was no help for it a certain tenderness of compassion entered Ms. Marchbang's bosom as she realized this change it would be hard if a woman did not pity a man thus hard fate from any possibility of ever becoming the companion of her existence a man who on the whole had many capabilities yet whose highest fortune in life could not mount above Barbara Lake the thought filled Lucilla's heart with gentle regret it was sad but it was inevitable and when Mr. Cavendish's note was brought to her in which he said only and very briefly not sure whether he understood the meaning of her letter he should certainly do himself the pleasure of accepting as usual her kind invitation Ms. Marchbang's regret grew more and more profound such a man who had been capable of appreciating herself to think that having known her he should decline upon Barbara the pity was entirely disinterested for nobody knew better than Lucilla that under the circumstances no other arrangement was possible he might marry the drawing master's daughter but Ms. Marchbang's was too well aware of her duty to her friends and to her position in society to have given her consent to his marriage with any body's daughter in Grange Lane but still it was a pity nobody could say that it was not a pity a man so visibly capable of better things Lucilla however could not afford to waste her mourning in unprofitable regrets an evening so critical and conclusive had to be provided for in so many different ways among other things she had to invite or rather command the presence of a guest whom to tell the truth she had no particular desire to see the Archdeacon was only a man when all was said and might change his mind like other men and to bring Mrs. Mortimer to Grange Lane in the evening looking interesting as to be sure she could look by times after that unpleasant exhibition of Dr. Marchbang's feelings was naturally a trial to Lucilla Mr. Beverly had drawn back once before and that when Mrs. Mortimer was young and no doubt a great deal more attractive than at present and now that she was a widow for Lorne invaded it would be no wonder if he were to draw back especially as Lucilla acknowledged herself when he saw the ancient object of his affections in her own society and among all the fresh young faces of Grange Lane and if the Archdeacon should draw back and leave the field open and perhaps the doctor who ought to know better should step in when she had got so far Lucilla rose up and shook out her draperies as if by way of shaking off the disagreeable idea at all events I have to do my duty she said to herself and thus it was with that last and most exquisite refinement of well-doing the thought that she might possibly be going to harm herself in benefiting others that Ms. Marchbang's heroically put on her hat and issued forth in the dinner hour of the little pupils to invite her last and most important guest this period of suspense was not by any means a happy or comfortable period for Mrs. Mortimer the poor widow was living in a constant expectation of something happening whereas her only true policy was to have made up her mind that nothing would ever happen and shaped herself accordingly to her life instead of eating her dinner as she ought to have done at that hour of leisure and fortifying herself for the weary afternoon's work she was sitting as usual at the window when Ms. Marchbang's came to the door and if it was a tedious business looking out of the window when the rain was drenching the four walls of the garden and breaking down the flowers and reducing all the poor little shrubs to abject misery it could not be said to be much more cheerful in the sunshine when pleasant sounds came in over that enclosure voices and footsteps of people who might be called alive while this solitary woman was buried and had nothing to do with life such fate may be accepted when people make up their minds to it but when so far from making up one's mind one fixes one's thoughts upon the life outside and fancies that every moment the call may come and one may find one's place again in the active world the tedium grows more and more insupportable as for Lucilla naturally she could not see any reason why Mrs. Mortimer should sit at the window why she could not content herself and eat her dinner instead there are a great many people in carlingford who have not nearly such a pleasant look out Lucilla said for my part I think it is a very pretty garden the wisteria has grown quite nice and there is a little of everything said Miss Marchbags and so far as that went she was no doubt the best judge having done it all herself oh yes it is very pretty and I am sure I am very grateful to Providence for giving me such a home said the widow but she sighed poor soul as she said it for to tell the truth though she was not so young as she once was it takes some people a long time to find out that they themselves are growing old and have done with life and then outside in that existence which she could hear but could not see there was one figure which was wonderfully interesting to poor Mrs. Mortimer which is a complication which has a remarkable effect on the question of content or discontent you ought to take a walk every day said Miss Marchbags that is what is the matter with you but in the meantime there is something else I want you to do this is Thursday you know and I have always some people on Thursday it is not a party it is only an evening the best to speak of your black silk will look quite nice and be all that is necessary black is very becoming to some people said Lucilla reflectively she looked at Mrs. Mortimer with her head a little on one side and saw in a moment with the rapid glance of genius just what she wanted and some lace for your head Miss Marchbags added I don't think you have gone off at all and I am sure you will look very nice it is at nine o'clock this evening Lucilla said Mrs. Mortimer faintly but you know I never go out I am not fit for society oh don't ask me please since poor Edward died yes said Lucilla it must have been a great loss I am sure though I can't say I might going into a room alone as some people do you know you can avoid that if you like by coming early come at eight and there will be nobody in the drying room and you can choose your own corner put it quite back at the back of your head said Miss Marchbags with a little anxiety I could show you how if I had the lace I do so want you to look nice oh never mind the fashion when one has a style of one's own it is always twenty times better to wear it before you are married and then with that nice black silk oh Lucilla don't ask me said the widow I shall not know how to talk nor look nor anything and then I know nobody and then my dear you have always me said Lucilla with tender approach I am so sorry I can't stop any longer I leave it quite to your own taste about the lace and you will find people you know you may be quite sure of that remember not later than nine o'clock and come at eight if you don't like to come into the room by yourself goodbye now I want you to look very nice tonight Miss Marchbags added giving her friend an affectionate kiss you must for my sake but Lucilla cried Mrs. Mortimer it was vain to make any further protest however for Lucilla was gone having in the first place communicated her requirements to Mary Jane who was not likely to forget nor to let her mistress be late and mind she is nice said Miss Marchbags emphatically and she went out at the door it was necessary that she should be nice without that the intended situation which Lucilla was preparing the grand finale of her exertions would fall flat and probably fail of its effect for this it was necessary that the widow should look not only pretty but interesting and a little pathetic and all that a widow should look when first dragged back into society Miss Marchbags gave a momentary sigh as she emerged from the garden door and could not but feel conscious that in all this she might be preparing the most dreaded discomforture and downfall for herself even if it passed over as it ought to do and nobody was charmed but the arch deacon who was the right person to be charmed Lucilla felt that after this she never could have that entire confidence in her father which she had had up to this moment the incipient sentiment Dr. Marchbags had exhibited was one that struck at the roots of all faith in him as a father and every person of sensibility will at once perceive how painful such a suggestion must have been to the mind of a young woman entirely devoted as was Miss Marchbags to the consolation and comfort of her dear papa Lucilla was not allowed to spend the rest of this momentous afternoon in maturing her plans as might have been necessary to a lesser intelligence and when the refreshing moment came at which she could have her cup of tea before preparing for the fatigues of the evening it was Mrs. Chiley who came to assist at that ceremony the old lady came in with an important care and gave Lucilla a long lingering kiss as old ladies sometimes do and they particularly mean it my dear I am not going to stay a moment but I thought you might have something to tell me the kind old woman said arranging herself in her chair with a satisfaction of a listener who expects to be confided in as for Lucilla who had no clue to Mrs. Chiley's special curiosity and who had a good many things on her mind at that moment which she rather preferred not to talk about she was for once struck by veritable astonishment and did not know what to say dear Mrs. Chiley what should I have to tell you said Miss March Banks you know very well where I should go the very first moment if anything happened and by way of saving off more particular questions she took her old friend a cup of tea yes my dear I hope so Mrs. Chiley but at the same time her disappointment was evident it is very nice thank you your tea is always nice Lucilla but it was not that I was thinking of I can't understand how it is I am sure when I saw him today with my own eyes and could not help seeing how anxious he was looking I hope I do hope you have not been so cruel as to refuse him Lucilla and all for something that is not his fault poor fellow or that could be explained you may be sure as for Miss March Banks she grew more and more surprised she put away the kettle without filling the teapot and left her own cup standing untasted and went and sat down on the stool by Mrs. Chiley's feet tell me whom I have refused this time for I don't know anything about it said Lucilla and then her visitor burst forth it must be all that creatures fault he told me he was coming here and to tell the truth I stood and watched him for you know how interested I am my dear and then a little while after he met that Barbara oh Lucilla why were you ever so foolish as to have her here I told you how it would end when you brought those artist people about your house they are all a set of adventurers cried Mrs. Chiley I saw them meet and I was so disgusted that I did not know what I was doing but he passed her as nicely as possible just a civil word you know and then he was passed just as I would have done myself for it is always best not to be uncivil to anybody I could see her standing as if she had been struck with lightning and naturally Lucilla I never thought anything else than he had come here and that all was right between you oh my dear I hope you are sure you have not refused him Mrs. Chiley said piteously anyhow Lucilla you need not mind telling me I may be sorry but I will not blame you my dear I have not refused anybody said Lucilla with a modest innocence that it was a pleasure to see but dear Mrs. Chiley she continued raising her drooping eyelids I think you make a mistake about Mr. Cavendish my own opinion is that Barbara would make him a very nice wife oh please don't be angry I don't mean to say you know that I think her quite what one would call nice for oneself but then the gentlemen have such strange ways of thinking many a girl whom we could not put up with is quite popular with them said Miss Marge Banks with a certain mild wonder at the inexplicable creatures whom she intended to discuss I suppose they have a different standard you know and for my part I would advise Mr. Cavendish to marry Barbara I think it is the best thing he could do Lucilla cried Mrs. Chiley almost with a shriek of horror she thought as was perhaps natural that there was some peak in what her young companion said not doing Miss Marge Banks justice as indeed few people did for that perfect truthfulness which it was Lucilla's luck always to be able to maintain Mrs. Chiley thought it was her young friends maidenly pride and determination not to take up the part of a woman slighted or jilted you may refuse him my dear if your heart is not against him said the old lady but I would not be so hard upon him as that poor fellow you may say what you please but I always will think him nice Lucilla I know I ought to be on the arch side said Mrs. Chiley putting her handkerchief to her eyes but I am an old woman and I like my old friends best oh Lucilla it is not kind of you to keep up appearances with me I wish you would give way a little it would do you good my darling and you know I might be both your grandmothers Lucilla she cried putting her arm around her favorite as for Miss Marge Banks she gave her old friend a close embrace which was the only thing that even her genius could suggest to do I have always you said Lucilla with touching eloquence and then she freed herself a little from Mrs. Chiley's arms I don't say perhaps that everybody will receive her but I mean to make an effort for my part and I shall certainly tell Mr. Cavendish so if he ever speaks of it to me as for Mr. Beverly he is going to be married too did not he told me all about it himself one day said Miss Marge Banks and I will ask him tonight if I may not tell you who the lady is it is quite a little romance and I hope we shall have two marriages and it will make it quite gay for the winter when you know all about it Lucilla added tenderly by way of breaking the shock I am sure you will be pleased but instead of being pleased Mrs. Chiley was speechless at the moment her fresh old cheeks grew as she with dismay and horror the arch deacon too she cried gasping for breath oh Lucilla my dear and you cried the old lady overwhelmed she held Miss Marge Banks fast and sobbed over her in the despair of the moment to think after all the pains that had been taken and all the hopes and all the speculations that neither the one nor the other was coming to anything if it should be that general after all and I cannot abide him sobbed Lucilla's anxious friend but Miss Marge Banks genius carried her through this trial as well as through all the others which she had yet encountered on her way dear Mrs. Chiley said Lucilla it is so good of you to care but if it had been that I was thinking of I need never have come home at all you know and my object in life is what it has always been to be a comfort to papa upon which Mrs. Chiley kissed her young friend once more with lingering meaning my dear I don't know what they mean she said with indignation everybody knows men are great fools where women are concerned but I never knew what idiots they were until now and you are too good for them my darling said Mrs. Chiley with indignant tenderness Miss Marge Banks was in some respects of the same way of thinking she conducted her sympathetic friend to the garden door when it came to be time for everybody to go and dress with a certain pathetic elevation in her own person which was not out of accord with Mrs. Chiley's virtuous wrath to have Mrs. Mortimer and Barbara Lake preferred to her did not wound Lucilla's pride one can be wounded in that way only by once equals with thought of it with a certain mild pity and charitable contempt both these two men had had the chance of having her and this was how they had chosen and there can be little wonder if Miss Marge Banks compassion for them was mingled with a little friendly and condescending this dain it was however an ease to Lucilla's mind that she had let Mrs. Chiley know and was so far free to work out her plans without any fear of misconception and on the whole her old friend's tender indignation was not disagreeable to Miss Marge Banks thus it was without any interval of repose to speak of that her lofty energies went on unwearyed to overrule and guide the crisis which was to decide so many people's fate End of Chapter 32 Recording by Maricel Cui Chapter 33 of Miss Marge Banks Chapter 33 Dr. Marge Banks was not a man to take very much notice of trivial external changes and he knew Lucilla and her constitution and being a medical man was not perhaps so liable to parental anxieties as an unprofessional father might have been but even he was a little struck by Miss Marge Banks' appearance when he came into the drawing room he said Your flush, Lucilla, is anything going to happen? With the calmness of a man who knew there was not much the matter but yet he did observe that her colour was not exactly what it always was I am quite well, papa, thank you said Lucilla which to be sure was a fact the doctor had never doubted and then the people began to come in and there was no more to be said but there could be no doubt that Lucilla had more colour than usual her pulse was quite steady and her heart going on at its ordinary rate but her admirable circulation was nevertheless so far affected that the ordinary roastants of her complexion were all deepened it was not so distinctly an improvement as it would have been had she been habitually pale but still the flush was moderate and did Miss Marge Banks no harm and then it was a larger party than usual the sentums were there who were General Travers Chaperons and so were the Woodburns and of course Mrs. Chiley which made up the number of ladies beyond what was general at Dr. Marge Banks' table Lucilla received all her guests the sweetest smiles and all her ordinary ease and self-possession but at the same time her mind was not free from some excitement she was on the eve of a crisis which would be the greatest failure or the greatest success of her public life and naturally she anticipated it with a certain emotion but at the same time Miss Marge Banks gave proof of her superiority in the absolute control she had over her feelings after Cavendish he had sufficient sense to come very early and to get into a dark corner and keep himself out of the way for though he was screwed up to the emergency his self-possession was nothing to that of Lucilla on the whole it was perhaps Mrs. Woodburn who suffered the most her heightened color was more conspicuous than that of Miss Marge Banks because as a general rule she was pale she was pale almost white she had dark eyes and dark hair and possessed precisely all the accessories which make a sudden change of complexion remarkable and the effect this evening was so evident that even her husband admired her for a moment and then stopped short to inquire by George had she begun to paint to which question Mrs. Woodburn naturally replied only by an indignant shrug of her white shoulders and an aversion of her head she would not have been sorry perhaps for this night only if he had believed that it was Rouge and not emotion of all the people at Dr. Marge Banks table she perhaps was the only one really to be pitied even Mr. Cavendish if vanquished would at the most receive only the recompense of his deeds and could go away and begin over again somewhere else or bury himself in the great depths of general society where nobody would be the wiser or his sister she could not go away the first result for her would be to give the master to whom she belonged and for whom she had with some affection a great deal of not unnatural contempt a cruel and overwhelming power over her and she knew perusal that he was not at all too generous or delicate to make use of such a power in such a case she would be bound to the rock like a kind of hapless andromeda to be pecked at by all the birds and blown at by all the winds not to speak of the devouring monster from whom no hero could ever deliver her and with all these horrible consequences before her eyes she had to sit still and look on and do nothing to see all the hidden meaning of every look and movement without appearing to see it to maintain ordinary conversation when her ear was strained to the uttermost words of fate on which her whole future depended no wonder her color was high and she could not go into a corner as Mr. Cavendish did nor keep silent nor withdraw herself from observation neither her pulse nor her heart would have borne the scrutiny to which Ms. Marchbank's calm organs might have been subjected with perfect security and the chances are if the doctor had by any hazard put his finger on her wrist and shook hands with her that instead of handing her over to General Travers to be taken down to dinner he would have on the contrary sent her off to bed fortunately by this time the season had arrived at that happy moment when people once more begin to dine by artificial light and at the same time it was not absolutely dark in the drawing room so that Lucilla had not, as she said thought it necessary to have the candles if there should happen to be a mistake as to who is to take down who it will only be all the more amusing said Ms. Marchbank's so long as you do not go off and leave me this was addressed to the Archdeacon to whom Lucilla was very particular in her attentions at that moment Mrs. Chiley who was looking on with a great sense of depression could not help wondering why when she knows he is engaged and everything settled the old lady said to herself with natural indignation for her part she did not see what right a man had to introduce himself thus under false pretenses into the confiding bosom of society when he was as bad as married or even indeed worse she was ruffled and she did not think it worthwhile to conceal that she was so for to be sure there are limits to human patients she could stay six weeks or at least to have confidence in his entertainers Mrs. Chiley for once in her life could have boxed Lucilla's ears for her uncalled forcibility I think it very strange that it is not the general who takes her downstairs she said to Mrs. Sentom it is all very well to have a respect for clergymen but after being here so often and the general quite a stranger she was surprised at Lucilla said the indiscreet old lady as for Mrs. Sentom she felt the neglect but she had too much proper pride to own that her man was not receiving due attention it is not the first time general travers has been here she said reserving the question and so in the uncertain light when nobody was sure who was his neighbor the procession filed downstairs to enter the dining room as shining as it was radiant with light and flowers and crystal and silver and everything that makes a dinner table pretty to look upon was as Mrs. Sentom said quite a contrast a close observer might have remarked as Mrs. Woodburn and Lucilla took their places that both of them instead of that flush which had been so noticeable a short time before had become quite pale it was the moment of trial and his excitement had taken just the place he ought not to have taken immediately under the lamp at the center of the table during the moment when the unsuspecting Archdeacon set grace with his eyes decorously cast down Ms. Marchbanks owned the ordinary weakness of humanity so much is to drop her fan and her handkerchief and even the napkin which was arranged in a symmetrical pyramid on her plate such a sign of human feebleness could but endear her to everybody who was aware of the momentous character of the crisis when these were all happily recovered and everybody seated Lucilla kept her eyes fixed upon the Archdeacon's face it was as we have said a terrible moment when he raised his head and looked around him naturally Mr. Beverly's eyes went direct to the mark like an arrow he looked and he saw at the center of the table surrounded by every kind of regard and consideration full in the light of the lamp his favorite adventurer the imposter whom he had denounced the first time he took his place by Ms. Marchbanks' side the Archdeacon rose to his feet in the excitement of the discovery he put his hand over his eyes as if to clear them he said, good God loud out with an accent of horror which paralyzed the two people lower down than himself as for Ms. Marchbanks who had not lost a single glance of his eyes or movement of his large person Lucilla rose to the height of the position she put her hand upon his arm sharply and with a certain energy Mr. Beverly Thomas is behind you with a soup said Ms. Marchbanks the Archdeacon turned around to see what it was conscious that somebody had spoken to him but as indifferent to his companion and to civility as he was to Thomas and the soup what he said hoarsely interrupting his scrutiny for the moment but when he had met Ms. Marchbanks' eye the Archdeacon sat down Lucilla did not liberate him for a moment from that gaze she fixed her eyes upon his eyes and looked at him as people only look when they mean something if you tell me what surprised you so much perhaps I can explain said Ms. Marchbanks she spoke so that nobody could hear but himself Mr. Trevers at her left hand was making himself excessively agreeable to Mrs. Woodburn and no doubt occupying all her attention and Lucilla never turned her eyes for a moment from the Archdeacon's face I beg your pardon said Mr. Beverly I was confounded by what I saw good heavens it is not possible I can deceive myself I understand your alarm I'm not going to make a disturbance and break up your party the Archdeacon said drawing a rapid forcible breath Ms. Marchbanks do you know who that man is oh yes said Lucilla softening into a smile perfectly I assure you he is one of Papa's guests and very much respected in Carlingford and he is one of my very particular friends Ms. Marchbanks added she laughed as she spoke a kind of laugh which is only appropriate subject and which is as good any day as a confession and the blush was so obliging as to return at that moment to her ingenious countenance we have known each other a long time Lucilla went on after that pretty pause and then she raised her confiding eyes which had been cast down once more to the Archdeacon's face you can think how nice he is Mr. Beverly said Ms. Marchbanks she clasped her hands together as she did so with an eloquent meaning which it was impossible to mistake the Archdeacon for his part gazed at her like a man in a dream whether it was true or whether he was being made a fool of more completely than ever man before was or whether he was the victim of an optical or some other kind of delusion the poor man could not tell he was utterly stricken dumb and did not know what to say he accepted the soup humbly and Thomas said before him though it was a white soup an effeminate dish which went utterly in the face of his principles and then he looked at the innocent young creature at his side in that flutter of happy confusion it was a terrible position for the broad churchmen after such a tacit confession he could not spring from his seat and hurl the imposter out of the room as in the first place he had a mind to do on the contrary it was with a voice trembling with the emotion that he spoke my dear Ms. March Banks said the Archdeacon I am struck dumb by what you tell me good heavens that it should have come to this and yet I should be neglecting my duty if I kept silent you do not you cannot know who he is oh yes said Lucilla with another little laugh everything and how he used to know Mrs. Mortimer and all about it he has no secrets from me she caught Mr. Cavendish's eye at the moment who was casting a stealthy glance in her direction and who looked cowed and silenced and unquiet to the most miserable degree and she gave him a little reassuring nod which the Archdeacon watched with an inward groan what was he to do he could not publicly expose the man who had just received that mark of confidence from his young hostess who knew everything perhaps it was one of the greatest trials Christian patience and fortitude which the Archdeacon who was not great as he himself would have said in the passive virtues had undergone in all the course of his life he was so utterly subdued and confounded that he ate his soup and never found out what kind of soup it was that is he consumed it in large spoonfuls without being aware by way of occupying his energies and filling up the time you cannot mean it you must be imperfectly informed at least let me talk to your father you must hear all the rites of the story if you will let me speak half a dozen words to to that person Ms. Marchbanks I am sure he will leave the place he will give up any claim oh yes please talk to him said Ms. Marchbanks it will be so nice to see you friends nothing would make me so happy you know I have heard all about it from you and from Mrs. Mortimer already so I am sure there cannot be much more to tell and as for Papa he is very fond of Mr. Cavendish said Lucilla with an imperceptible elevation of her voice is it he whom you call Mr. Cavendish said the Archdeacon he too had raised his voice without knowing it and several people looked up who were not at the moment engaged in active conversation of their own the owner of that name for his part also turned his face towards the upper end of the table he was sick of the suspense and continued endurance and by this time was ready to rush upon his fate did anyone call me he said and there was a little pause and the company in general fixed its regard upon those three people with a sense that something remarkable was going on among them though it could not tell what or why the Archdeacon wants to make your acquaintance said Ms. Marchbanks Mr. Cavendish and when we are gone you can talk to each other if you like Lucilla added but in the meantime you are too far off and I want the Archdeacon he is so much liked in Carlingford she continued lowering her voice you can't think how glad we are to have him back again I'm sure if you only knew him better said Ms. Marchbanks as for the Archdeacon words could not give any idea of the state of his mind he ate his dinner sternly after that and did not look at anything but his plate he consumed the most exquisite plats the tenderest wings of chicken and morsels of paté as if they had been his personal enemies for to tell the truth he felt the tables altogether turned upon him and was confounded and did not know what it could mean it was the general who took up Mr. Beverly's abandoned place in the conversation the gallant soldier talked for two with the best will in the world he talked of Cavendish and all the pleasant hours they had spent together and what a good fellow he was and how much the men in the club would be amused to hear of his domesticity it was a kind of talk very natural to a man who found himself placed at a table between his friend's sister and as he supposed his friend's future bride and naturally the Archdeacon got all the benefit as for Lucilla she received it with the most perfect grace in the world and saw all the delicate points of the general's wit and appreciated him so thoroughly that he felt half inclined to envy Cavendish by Jove he is the luckiest fellow I know General Trappers said and probably it was the charms of his intelligent and animated conversation that kept the ladies so long at table Mrs. Chiley for her part did not know what to make of it afterwards she kept looking at Lucilla until she was really quite ashamed and though she was at the other end of the table she could see that the poor dear did not enjoy her dinner it happened too that when they did move at last the drawing room was fuller than usual everybody had come that evening Sir John and some others of the county people who only came now and then and without exception everybody in Carlingford and Lucilla certainly was not herself for the first half hour she kept close to the door and regarded the staircase with an anxious countenance when she was herself at the helm of affairs there was a certain security that everything would go on tolerably but nobody could tell what a set of men left to themselves might or might not do perhaps after all this was the most dreadful moment of the evening Mrs. Mortimer was in the drawing room hidden away under the curtains of a window knowing nobody speaking to nobody and in a state of mind to commit suicide with pleasure but Ms. Marchbanks though she had cajoled her into that martyrdom took no notice of Mrs. Mortimer she was civil it is true to her other guests but there could not be a doubt that Lucilla was horribly preoccupied and in a state of mind quite unusual to her I am sure she is not well Mrs. Chiley said who was watching her from afar I saw that she did not eat any dinner and the kind old lady got up slowly and extricated herself from the crowd and put herself in motion as best she could to go to her young friend's aid it was at this moment that Lucilla turned round radiant upon the observant assembly the change occurred in less than a moment so suddenly that nobody saw the actual point of revolution Ms. Marchbanks turned round upon the company and took Mr. Cavendish's arm who had just come upstairs there is a very very old friend of yours in the corner who wants to see you said Lucilla and she led him across the room as a conqueror might have led a captive she took him through the crowd to whom she dispensed on every side her most gracious glances I am coming directly Ms. Marchbanks said for naturally she was called and her remarked at this moment was that the archdeacon who had also come in with the other gentleman was standing very sullen and lowering at the door watching that triumphal progress and it certainly was not Lucilla's fault if Mrs. Chiley and Lady Richmond and a few other ladies were thus led to form a false idea of the state of affairs I suppose it is all right between them at last Lady Richmond said Barbara Lake was standing by and heard her according to appearances it was all perfectly right between them Ms. Marchbanks' triumphant led Mr. Cavendish all the length of the room to the corner where the widow sat among the curtains and the archdeacon looked on with a visible passion and jealous rage which were highly improper in a clergyman but yet which were exciting to see and this was how the little drama leading to Lady Richmond and Mrs. Chiley who on the whole were satisfied with the conclusion but naturally there were other people to be consulted there was Mr. Beverly who Ms. Marchbanks held in leash but who was not yet subdued there was Dr. Marchbanks who began to feel a little curiosity about his daughter's movements and did not make them out and there was Barbara Lake who had begun to blaze like a tempest with her crimson cheeks like bold eyes but by this time Lucilla was herself again and felt the reins in her hands when she had deposited Mr. Cavendish in safety she faced round upon the malcontents and upon the observers and on the world in general now that her mind was at rest and everything under her own inspection she felt herself ready and able for all