'Have you a reading-room?'
'Only at Wrangerton as yet; I want to set up another at Coalworth.'
'Then you find it answer? How do you arrange?'
'Two nights in the week we read to them, teach singing, or get up a sort of lecture. The other days there are books, prints, newspapers; and you will be surprised to see how much they appreciate them. There's a lad now learning to draw, whose taste is quite wonderful! And if you could have seen their faces when I read them King Henry IV! I want to have the same thing at Coalworth for the winter--not in summer. I could not ask them to spend a minute, they can help, out of the free air and light; but in winter I cannot see those fine young men and boys dozing themselves into stolidity.'
Was this the man who contemned the whole English peasantry, colliers especially? Theodora rejoiced that his hobby had saved her a world of embarrassment, and still more that their tete-a-tete was interrupted. Lady Elizabeth Brandon begged to know whether Miss Martindale could see her.
She was on her way through London; and having just heard of Colonel Martindale's illness, had come to inquire, and offer to be useful. Emma remained at the hotel. After Lord Martindale's cheerful answer and warm thanks, the gentlemen set off together, and Theodora sat down with her good old friend to give the particulars, with all the fulness belonging to the first relief after imminent peril.
After the first, however, Lady Elizabeth's attention wandered; and before the retrograding story had gone quite back to the original Brogden cough, she suddenly asked if Percival Fotheringham was in England.
'Yes, at Worthbourne. You know it was his cousin--'
'I know--it was a mistake,' said Lady Elizabeth, hurrying over the subject, as by no means suited its importance in Theodora's eyes. 'Can you tell me whether he has seen or heard anything of Mr. Mark Gardner?'
'Yes,' said Theodora, surprised.
'I suppose you have not heard him say how he is conducting himself?'
'Have you heard that he is going to be married to Mrs. Finch?'
Theodora was astonished at the effect of this communication on her sober staid old friend. She started, made an incredulous outcry, caused it to be repeated, with its authority, then rose up, exclaiming, 'The wretch! My poor Emma! I never was more rejoiced. But Emma!'
The sight of Theodora's surprise recalled her to herself. 'Ah! you do not know?' she said; and having gone so far, was obliged to explain, with expressions of gratitude to Arthur and Violet for having so well guarded a secret that now might continue hidden for ever.
Theodora was slow in comprehending, so monstrous was the idea of Emma Brandon engaged to Mark Gardner! She put her hands before her eyes, and said she must be dreaming--she could not credit it. When convinced, there was something in her manner that pleased and comforted Lady Elizabeth by the kind feeling and high esteem it showed.
'Let me ask you one question, my dear ' she said, 'just to set my mind at rest. I was told that your brother's affairs were involved with those of that unhappy man. I trust it is no longer so.'
Theodora explained, as far as she understood, how Percy had extricated him.
'Ah!' said Lady Elizabeth, 'I fear we are in some degree the cause. My poor Emma was imprudent enough to quote Colonel Martindale; and she has told me that she was frightened by a pale look of anger that crossed his face, and something which he muttered between his teeth. But he made her believe Arthur his seducer!'
'Poor Arthur! If you knew all!' said Theodora; 'and who--' then breaking off, 'Percy did tell papa that it was all Mr. Gardner's revenge for Arthur's not consenting to some nefarious transaction. Depend upon it, that was it! You asked Violet, you say. Percy said that, among the sentences he overheard on the quay, there was something about a wife who had crossed him, and who should suffer for it. He said it was spoken with a hard-hearted wickedness that, even when he did not know who it was, made him long to crush him like a reptile; and when he had seen Violet and the children, though it might be interference, he said he could as soon have left them in the folds of a serpent!'
'Ah! my poor girl!'
'But this frees her. Oh! she cannot grieve for such a wretch!'
'I fear her attachment is so strong that she will not see it in this light.'
'When he gives her up without a word, she ought to be too angry to grieve.'
'I do not think that is in her nature.'
'So much the better. Anger and comfort cannot go together. Oh, one so good and gentle must be helped! How I wish I could do anything for her; but she will be better at home. It is lucky there are no associations with him there.'
'I wish she was at home. Theresa Marstone is staying with her brother in London, and I left her with Emma at the hotel.'
'Fortunately there cannot be two ways of thinking on this matter,' said Theodora.
Lady Elizabeth was too anxious to break the tidings to her daughter to wait at that time to see Violet; and went, promising to come to- morrow to report how the blow should have been borne.
Theodora was glad when she had a little space in which to think over the events of the day.
Ever since she had embraced the lesson of humility, the once despised Emma Brandon had been rising in her estimation. The lowliness of her manners, and the heart-whole consistency of her self-devotion, had far outweighed her little follies, and, together with remorse for having depreciated and neglected her, had established her claim to respect and admiration.
And now to find the old prediction verified, and Emma led away by so absurd a delusion, might have seemed a triumph, had not Theodora been thoroughly humbled. She only saw a humiliating contrast between the true pure heart that blindly gave its full affections, and that which could pretend to have given itself away, and then, out of mere impatience of restraint, play with and torture the love it had excited, and, still worse, foster an attachment it never meant to requite!
She was the more sensible of this latter delinquency now that Lord St. Erme had just been brought before her, deserving all that man could deserve; having more than achieved all to which she had incited him, and showing a constancy unchecked by the loss of her personal attractions. His blushing homage came almost as a compensating contrast after her severe mortification at Percy's surprise and subsequent cool composure.
While reproaching herself for this feeling, her father came home, and with him the Earl. They had been occupied all the afternoon, and had fallen into conversation on county business. Lord Martindale, finding his young friend was alone at his hotel, thought he had better dine with them, since Violet need not be troubled about it. Theodora wondered whether it had occurred to her father that some one else might be troubled, and that it might seem like a renewal of encouragement; but the fact was, that after ten days of the sick- room, his society was a positive treat to Lord Martindale, and in advising him on magistrate's business, he forgot everything else.
The dinner went off without embarrassment. Lord St. Erme did indeed blush when he offered his arm to her; but with consideration that seemed to understand her, he kept up the conversation chiefly with Lord Martindale on rates, police, and committees.
She thought of the horror he had been wont to express of the English squirearchy, 'whose arena is the quarter sessions;' and she remembered standing up for them, and declaring there was far more honest, sturdy, chivalrous maintenance of right and freedom in their history than in all his beloved Lombardic republics. And now, what was he but a thorough-going country gentleman, full of plans of usefulness, sparing neither thought, time, nor means; and though some of his views were treated by Lord Martindale as wild and theoretical, yet, at any rate, they proved that he had found living men a more interesting study than the Apollo Belvedere.
Theodora was resolved that Violet should see him, and now that the dinner was eaten and beyond anxiety, went up to disclose his presence, and persuade her to go down to tea and leave her with the patient. She found it was well she had kept her counsel; Violet took it quietly enough; but Arthur chose to concern himself as to what wine had been produced, and would have sent a message to James if his sister had not assured him that it was too late.
He insisted on Violet's going down to the drawing-room, and would not hear of Theodora's remaining with him. The nurse was in the outer room, and Johnnie was made supremely happy by being allowed to sit up an hour longer to be his companion; and thus with Lord Martindale and Theodora making frequent expeditions to visit him, Violet was sufficiently tranquil to remain as long in the drawing-room as was worth the fatigue of the transit.
She could enjoy her talk with the Earl; and, indeed, since Annette's visit, she had heard no tidings so full and
