society, the concerts, soirees, and lectures that his non-arrival left her free to enjoy. The other son and heir interested her nearly, for he was her half-brother. There had been something almost ludicrous in the apologies to her. His mother seemed to feel like a traitor to her, and Mr. Charnock could hardly reconcile his darling's deposition with his pride in the newcomer. Both she and Raymond had honestly rejoiced in their happiness and the continuance of the direct line of Dunstone, and had completed the rejoicing of the parents by thorough sympathy, when the party with this unlooked-for addition had returned home in the spring. Mrs. Charnock had insisted on endowing his daughter as largely as he justly could, to compensate for this change in her expectations, and was in doubt between Swanmore, an estate on the Backsworth side of Willansborough, and Sirenwood itself, to purchase and settle on her. Raymond would greatly have preferred Sirenwood, both from its adjoining the Compton property and as it would be buying out the Vivians; but there were doubts about the involvements, and nothing could be done till Eleonora's majority. Mr. Charnock preferred Swanmore as an investment, and Raymond could, of course, not press his wishes.
A short visit had been made at Dunstone to join in the festivities in honour of the little heir, but Cecil had not been at Compton since Christmas, though Raymond had several times gone home for a Sunday when she had other companionship. Charlie had been with them preparing his outfit for India whither he had been gone about a month; and Frank, though living in lodgings, was the more frequently at his sister-in-law's service, because wherever she was the Vivian sisters might be looked for.
No sooner had Raymond taken the house in --Square than Lady Tyrrell had engaged the opposite one, so that one household could enjoy evening views of the other's interior, and Cecil had chiefly gone into society under her friend's auspices. Her presentation at Court had indeed been by the marchioness; she had been staying with an old friend of Mrs. Poynsett's, quite prepared to be intimate with Raymond Poynsett's wife, if only Cecil would have taken to her. But that lady's acceptance of any one recommended in this manner was not to be thought of, and besides, the family were lively, merry people, and Cecil was one of those who dislike and distrust laughter, lest it should be at themselves. So she remained on coldly civil terms with that pleasant party, and though to a certain degree following her husband's lead as to her engagements, all her ways were moulded by her friend's influence. Nor was the effect otherwise than becoming. Nothing could be in better taste than all in Mrs. Charnock Poynsett's establishment, and London and Lady Tyrrell together had greatly improved her manners. All her entertainments went off well, and she filled her place in the world with grace and skill, just as she had always figured herself doing.
Yet there was a sense of disappointment and dissatisfaction, which increased upon her as the time drew nearer for returning to be again only a guest in her married home. It was a tangible grievance on which her mind could fix itself. Surely it was hard on her that her husband should require it of her, and yet she perceived that he could not avoid it, since his mother was mistress. She knew too that he was unfailingly kind, attentive, and indulgent, except on that one occasion when he had sharply reproved her for her behaviour in the Tallboys matter; and strange to say, a much stronger feeling towards him had been setting in ever since that one time when she had seen him thoroughly angry. She longed and craved to stir that even, gentle courtesy to frowns or smiles; and yet there was a perversity in her nature that seem to render it impossible to her to attempt to win a smile from him, far more so to lay aside any device or desire of her own to gratify him. All she did know was, that to be all that her ambition had sought, a Charnock by marriage as well as birth, and with a kind, considerate husband, was not enough to hinder a heartsickness she had never known or supposed possible.
Presently, through the flowers in her balcony, Cecil saw the opening and closing of the opposite house-door, and a white parasol unfurled, and she had only time to finish and address her letter to Mrs. Duncombe before Lady Tyrrell was announced.
'Here I am after a hard morning's work, winding up accounts, &c.'
'You go to-morrow?'
'Yes, trusting that you will soon follow; though you might be a cockney born, your bloom is town-proof.'
'We follow as soon as the division on the Education Question is over, and that will not be for ten days. You are come to look at my stores for the bazaar; but first, what are you going to do this afternoon?'
'What are your plans?'
'I must leave cards at half-a-dozen people's at the other end of the park. Will you come with me? Where is Lenore?'
'She is gone to take leave of the Strangeways' party; Lady Susan insisted on having her for this last day. Poor Frank! I confess impartially that it does not look well for him.'
'Poor Frank!' repeated Cecil, 'he does look very forlorn when he hears where she is.'
'When, after all, if the silly boy could only see it, it is the most fortunate thing that could happen to him, and the only chance of keeping his head above water. I have made Lady Susan promise me two of her daughters for the bazaar. They thoroughly know how to make themselves useful. Oh, how pretty!'
For Cecil was producing from the shelves of various pieces of furniture a large stock of fancy articles-Swiss carvings, Spa toys, Genevese ornaments, and Japanese curiosities, which, as Lady Tyrrell said, 'rivalled her own accumulation, and would serve to carry off the housewives and pen-wipers on which all the old maids of Wil'sbro' were employed.'
'We must put out our programmes,' Cecil added; 'people will not work in earnest till the day is fixed and they know the sellers.'
'Yes, the lady patronesses are most important,' said Lady Tyrrell, writing them down: 'Mrs. Raymond Charnock Poynsett; Lady Rosamond, eh?'
'Oh no, Julius won't hear of it.'
'And opposition is sweet: so we lose her romantic name, and the stall of the three brides. Mrs. Miles Charnock is too much out of the world to be worth asking. Then myself-Mrs. Duncombe, Mrs. Fuller, as a matter of necessity, Mrs. Moy.'
'Oh!'
'Needful, my dear, to propitiate that set. Also that mayoress, Mrs. Truelove, isn't she? Six. We'll fill up with country people!'
Six more distinguished names were soon supplied of ladies who would give their patronage, provided neither toil nor care was required of them; and still consulting, the two friends took their seats in the carriage. The time of the bazaar was to be fixed by the opening of the town-hall, which was to take place on the 12th of September-a Thursday, the week before the races; and the most propitious days appeared to be the Tuesday and Wednesday before the Great Backsworth Cup Day, since the world would then be in an excited, pleasure- seeking state, favourable to their designs.
'I shall have a party in the house,' said Lady Tyrrell: 'shall you be able?'
'I can't tell; you know it does not depend on me, and I certainly shall not ask it as a favour. Camilla, did I tell you that I tried to make my father understand the state of things, and speak to Raymond? But he would only say, that while I am so young and inexperienced, it is a great advantage for me to live with Mrs. Poynsett, and that I must be the greatest comfort to her. Papa is an intense believer in Mrs. Poynsett, and when he once has taken up a notion nothing will convince him.'
'You can't even make capital of this purchase of a house of your own?'
'I don't like to do that.'
'My dear, I see your delicacy and forbearance, and I would not urge you, if I did not see how deeply your happiness is concerned. Of course I don't mean merely the authority over the wirthschaft, though somehow the cares of it are an ingredient in female contentment; but forgive me, Cecil, I am certain that you will never take your right place-where you care for it more-till you have a home of your own.'
'Ah!' The responsive sound burst from the very depths of Cecil's heart, penetrated as they had never been before; but pride and reserve at once sprang up, and she answered coldly, 'I have no reason to complain.'
'Right, my dear Cecil, I like you the better;' and she pressed her hand.
'It is quite true,' said Cecil, withdrawing hers.
'Quite, absolutely true. He would die rather than give you any reason for the slightest murmur; but, Cecil, dearest, that very heedfulness shows there is something he cannot give you.'
'I don't know why you should say so,' answered a proud but choked voice.
'I say so,' replied the clear tones, firmly, though with a touch of pity, 'because I see it. Cecil, poor child, they married you very young!'
