Arabella

Assemblies, balls—my love, you will have such opportunities! you can have no notion! Why, she writes that—but never mind that!”

Arabella found her voice. “But Mama, how shall we contrive? The expense! I cannot—I cannot to go London without any clothes to wear!”

“No, indeed!” said Mrs. Tallant laughing. “That would present a very odd appearance, my love!”

“Yes, Mama, but you know what I mean! I have only two ball dresses, and though they do very well for the Assemblies in Harrowgate, and country parties, I know they are not modish enough for Almack’s! And Sophy has borrowed all Mrs. Caterham’s Monthly Museums, and I have been looking at the fashions in them, and it is too lowering, ma’am! Everything must be trimmed with diamonds, or ermine, or point-lace!”

“My dear Arabella, don’t put yourself in a taking! That has all been thought of, I assure you. You must know that have had this scheme in my mind for many a long day.” She saw her daughter’s face of mystification, and laughed again. “Why, did you think I would send you into society looking like a rustic? I am not quite such a zany, I hope! I have been putting by for this very occasion since I don’t know when.”

“Mama!”

“I have a little money of my own, you know,” explained Mrs. Tallant. “Your dear Papa would never use it, but desired me to spend it only as I liked, because I used to be very fond of pretty things, and he never could bear to think I might not have them when I married him. That was all nonsense, of course, and I’m sure I very soon gave up thinking of such fripperies. But I was very glad to have it to spend on my children. And in spite of Margaret’s drawing-lessons, and Sophy’s music-master, and dearest Bertram’s new coat, and those yellow pantaloons which he dare not let Papa see—my love, was there ever such a foolish boy? As though Papa did not know all along!—and having to take poor Betsy to the doctor three times this year, I have quite a little nest-egg saved for you!”

“Oh, mama, no, no!” cried Arabella, distressed. “I would rather not go to London at all than that you should be put  to such dreadful expense!”

That is because you are sadly shatterbrained, my dear,” replied her mother calmly. “I regard it as an investment, and I shall own myself extremely astonished if a great deal of good does not come of it.” She hesitated, looked a little conscious, and said, picking her words: “I am sure I do not have to tell you that Papa is a Saint. Indeed, I don’t suppose there is a better husband or father alive! But he is not at all practical, and when one has eight children to provide for, one must have a little worldly sense, or I don’t know how one is to go on. One need have no anxiety about dear James, to be sure; and since Harry is set on going to sea, and his uncle is so obliging as to use his influence in his behalf, his future is settled. But I own I cannot be happy about poor Bertram; and where I am to find suitable husbands for all you girls in this restricted neighbourhood, I have not the least notion! Now, that is speaking more plainly than perhaps Papa would like, but you are a sensible puss, Arabella, and I have no scruple in being open with you. If I can but contrive to establish you respectably, you may bring out your sisters, and perhaps, even, if you should be so fortunate as to marry a gentleman of position, you might be able to help Bertram to buy his commission. I do not mean, of course, that your husband should purchase it precisely, but he might very likely have an interest at the Horse Guards, or—or something of the sort!”

Arabella nodded, for it was no news to her that she, as the eldest of four sisters, was expected to marry advantageously. She knew it to be her duty to do so. “Mama, I will try not to disappoint you!” she said earnestly.

II

It was the candidly expressed opinion of the Vicar’s children that Mama must have had a great work to prevail upon Papa to consent to Arabella’s going to London. Few things were more reprehensible in his eyes than vanity and pleasure-seeking; and although he never raised any objection to Mama’s chaperoning Arabella and Sophia to the Assemblies at Harrowgate, and had even been known to comment favourably upon their gowns, he always impressed upon them that such diversions, innocent in themselves, would, if indulged in to excess, inevitably ruin the character of the most virtuous female. He had himself no taste for society, and had frequently been heard to animadvert severely on the useless and frivolous lives led by ladies of fashion. Moreover, although he was not in the least above enjoying a good joke, he had the greatest dislike of levity, could never be brought to tolerate idle chatter, and if the conversation turned upon worldly trifles would never fail to give it a more proper direction.

But Lady Bridlington’s invitation to Arabella did not take the Vicar by surprise. He knew that Mrs. Tallant had written to her old friend, and however little he approved of the chief motive behind her resolve to launch her daughter into society, certain of the arguments she employed to persuade him could not but carry weight.

“My dear Mr. Tallant,” said his lady, “do not let us dispute about the merits of an advantageous match! But even you will allow that Arabella is an uncommonly handsome girl!”

Mr. Tallant allowed it, adding reflectively that Arabella put him forcibly in mind of what her Mama was at the same age. Mrs. Tallant was not impervious to this flattery: she blushed, and looked a little roguishly, but said that he need not try to bamboozle her (an expression she had picked up from her sons).

“All I wish to point out to you, Mr. Tallant, is that Arabella is fit to move in the first circles!” she announced.

“My love,” responded the Vicar, with one of his humorous looks, “if I believed you, I should perhaps consider it my duty to show you that an ambition to move in the first circles, as you call them, could never be an ideal I could wish any of my daughters to aspire to. But as I am persuaded that you have a great many other arguments to advance, I will hold my peace, and merely beg you to continue!”

“Well,” said Mrs. Tallant seriously, “I fancy—but you must tell me if I am mistaken—that you would not regard with any degree of complaisance an alliance with the Draytons of Knaresborough!”

The Vicar was plainly startled, and directed an enquiring look at his spouse.

“Young Joseph Drayton is growing extremely particular in his attentions,” pronounced Mrs. Tallant, in a voice of doom. She observed the effect of this, and continued in the blandest way: “Of course, I am aware that he is considered to be a great catch, for he will inherit all his father’s wealth.”

The Vicar was betrayed into an unchristian utterance. “I could not consent to it! He smells of the shop!”

“Exactly so!” agreed Mrs. Tallant, well-satisfied. “But he has been dangling after Arabella these past six months.”

“Do you tell me,” demanded the Vicar, “that a daughter of mine encourages his attentions?”

“By no means!” promptly responded the lady. “Any more than she encourages the attentions of the curate, young Dewsbury, Alfred Hitchin, Humphrey Finchley, or a dozen others! Arabella, my dear sir, is by far the most sought-after belle of these parts!”

“Dear me!” said the Vicar, shaking his head in wonderment. “I must confess, my love, that none of these young gentlemen would be welcome to me as a son-in-law.”

“Then, perhaps, Mr. Tallant, you cherish hopes of seeing Arabella married to her cousin Tom?”

“Nothing,” said the Vicar forcibly, “could be farther from my wishes!” He recollected himself, and added in a more moderate tone: “My brother is a very worthy man, according to his lights, and I wish his children nothing but good; but on several counts, which I need not enumerate, I should not desire to see any of my daughters marry their cousins. And, what is more, I am very sure that he has quite other designs for Tom and Algernon!”

“Indeed he has!” corroborated Mrs. Tallant cordially. “He means them to marry heiresses.”

The Vicar bent an incredulous gaze upon her. “Does my daughter affect any of these young men?” he demanded.

“I fancy not,” replied Mrs. Tallant. “That is to say, she does not show any marked preference for any one of them. But when a girl sees no other gentlemen than those who have been dangling after her ever since she left the schoolroom, what, my dear Mr. Tallant, must be the end of it? And young Drayton,” she added musingly, “is possessed of a considerable fortune. I do not mean that Arabella would consider that, but there is no denying that the man who drives a smart curricle, and can afford to be begging a female’s acceptance of all the most elegant trifles imaginable, has a decided advantage over his rivals.”

There was a pregnant silence, while all the implications of this speech sank into the Vicar’s brain. He said at length, rather wistfully: “I had hoped that one day a suitable parti would present himself,