Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 2 (of 3), Mrs. Alexander [best sci fi novels of all time txt] 📗
- Author: Mrs. Alexander
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"The complete disappearance of all the agents through whom I hoped to achieve, such great things from the little stage of my life, is indeed marvellous, and so dispiriting that I felt inclined to most unbecoming impatience when I read your letter, in which you, as usual, set forth, so forcibly, important points; but second thoughts are best maestro mio. Let us give them the benefit of our doubts; both Miss Herman and Mrs. Storey may be out of town, or unwell, or any thing you like, and while it is better for my heart and spirits to fancy my ci-devant music-master moving heaven and earth, though unsuccessful in my behalf, than to imagine him playing me false, by culpable negligence, let me think so; I must wait; so let the imagination I so often indulged, in happier days, show her gratitude by lightening the interval of wretched doubt. Is this[176] right? If you think so, say it, for I am not, heaven knows, so strong that I can dispense with the wholesome encouragement of friendly approbation; and though there is great support in the whisperings of an approving conscience, yet it is wonderfully comforting to have its accents echoed by a voice one loves. By the arrangements I have made here, Cormac's advent will add nothing to our expenses, and I am sure his absence will be a relief to you."
Miss Vernon went to Euston Square, accompanied by Mrs. O'Toole, to meet him, and the joy of the old hound, at sight of her, was quite touching.
"We are afraid to go near him, ma'am," said the porter, who led them to where he was chained, "he's the fiercest dog we ever had charge on."
But Kate fearlessly went up to him, and unfastened his chain, while he almost overpowered her by his uncouth caresses, to the[177] dread of the beholders. Then sitting close by her, his head stretched up that he might look in her face, and only noticing Mrs. O'Toole, by an occasional lick, he remained as docile as a lamb.
Kate and nurse walked gaily home with him, feeling they had gained the addition of a friend to their society; indeed Cormac conducted himself with so much discretion, that the smiling, because regularly paid, landlady observed, he was, "a perfect hangel in disposition."
As if pleasures and pains were equally gregarious, Mr. Langley called just as they were going to tea. He was livelier than usual, and explained his own and his sister's apparent inattention, by informing them that she had been obliged to take her little boy to the Isle of Wight, for change of air; that he had accompanied them for the same purpose, and had there met Miss Herman, who was on a visit to her married sister. Thus were all Kate's[178] doubts satisfactorily cleared up, and the very lightness of heart which these few words of explanation produced, proved to her how heavily their silence and apparent neglect had preyed upon her spirits. It was no wonder therefore that Langley felt surprised he had not before been struck by the brilliancy as well as the sweetness of her face; she played, and sang for him too, for the first time, and although he said little, was evidently charmed by a degree of excellence he was in no wise prepared for.
He left them at an early hour (after an offer of books from his collection), considerably cheered by his visit. He had been much more agreeable than usual, indeed there was something in the noble manner of Colonel Vernon, in the grace and piquancy of his grandchild, in her perfect freedom from all idea of self; and spirited intelligent assumption of her right to think for herself—that attracted the taciturn, though well informed, Langley, in no common degree. He had a bad opinion[179] of women in general—like many men, he divided them into two classes, fools and knaves; and could not imagine the combination of heart and intellect—yet Kate's original observations, surprised him by their freshness, while it was impossible to look upon her sweet, but noble countenance—and doubt that if ever the spirit of truth had stamped its impress on a human soul, that soul was hers.
[180]
RESIGNATION.
Nearly two months had elapsed since the Vernons left A——; and affairs wore much the same aspect as the first days of their arrival in town. Miss Herman had called on Kate, on her return from the Isle of Wight, and Kate had, selon les regles, returned the visit; and not liking to trespass on Herman's time, unnecessarily, had written merely to ask some trifling question, and thus, remind him of his promise; in reply to which, she received a vague assurance of his readiness to serve her, and a recommendation to patience.
[181]
Meantime, parliament was within a few days of its prorogation—town fast thinning—and the season, to all intents and purposes, over. This was indeed a trying time; and no portion of it so trying, as when the Colonel sunk into his evening sleep. Kate then ventured to release her thoughts from the books, or work, on which she always endeavoured to fix them, in his presence, lest he should think her pre-occupied or depressed; and sometimes gazing from the window, at the slowly closing evening—sometimes fixing her eyes on the beloved face, which, freed from constraint, bore a pained expression—too truly indicative of internal feeling—occasionally an uneasy sigh would escape him, or some muttered word; and, oh! the inexpressible tenderness and anguish that would then swell his grandchild's heart.
Did you ever watch one you loved, asleep? if not, you never knew of how much love your nature was capable; yet these communings with self, like Jacob's wrestling with the[182] angel, left a blessing behind—though the frequent, bitter, passionate questions—"Why is it so? Why is he, who would turn aside, rather than tread upon a worm; whose strong, warm heart, was chiefly pleased in shewing mercy and pity—why is he thus tried, and left desolate, now when the years are come in which he has no pleasure?" would rise to her lips; and, hard, hard was it to suppress them, for Kate Vernon's heart beat with too strong, too passionate a pulse, not to feel that chastening was very grievous; nor could she frame unreal words of resignation—when the strong turmoil of her breast, lay open to the All-seeing—she could but cry, from out its troubled depths—"Behold, O Lord, and see!"
One morning, her grandfather was reading aloud to her—she sometimes made him do so—it fixed his attention more—when the door was opened suddenly, and a lady presented herself, unannounced. She was richly dressed in rather showy colors, and held a large em[183]broidered lace-edged handkerchief in her hand. The Colonel and Kate both rose.
"Miss Vernon, I presume!"
"Yes," she replied, advancing.
The visitor presented a card; and Kate, glancing at it, exclaimed—
"Ah! Mrs. Storey—grandpapa—Mr. Langley's sister."
And mutual civilities were exchanged.
The new comer was slightly consequential, inclined to talk of her husband's firm, as of a subject of universal and recognized interest; she was a little patronising too; but evidently charmed and subdued by the inexpressible tone of deference and esteem which characterised the Colonel's manner to women, and to which few ladies, connected with even the most eminent firms, are accustomed.
"I am come on a double errand," said she, to Kate, after explaining about her long delayed visit—"one, to hand you this note; the[184] other, to beg you and Colonel Vernon will kindly consent to join a small circle of friends, at my house, on Thursday evening, though I have made the request rather unceremoniously."
"You are very kind; I am sure, grandpapa, and myself will have great pleasure—"
"Yes, certainly," chimed in the Colonel; "though I seldom do so gay a thing, as to appear at a soiree."
"Then I shall expect you at half-past eight, as it is to be an early party, of a few friends only; and now, Miss Vernon, read that note."
Kate opened it, and read as follows—
"Dear Mrs. Storey,
"I should like to see the young person of whom your brother spoke to me, as I wish Mary and Angelina to begin music, without any further delay; they have quite[185] forgotten what they learned at Mrs. Birch's. Can Miss Vernon teach singing? I shall be at home for her at one o'clock, on Tuesday next.
"With kind regards to Mr. S——,
"I am yours, very sincerely,
"A. Potter."
"St. Cecilia Terrace,
"Brompton, Saturday evening."
"I am very glad to get a summons, at last," said Kate, smiling. "I was beginning to fear pupils were an unattainable good. The note is from a friend of Mrs. Storey's, grandpapa," she continued, anxious to prevent the old gentleman from reading it, as, she justly thought, the wording of it might ruffle his pride, "who requires instruction in music for her two daughters, and wishes me to call upon her on Tuesday. How do you go to Brompton from hence, Mrs. Storey?"
[186]
"The most agreeable way is through Kensington Gardens, then across the Knightsbridge Road."
"Thank you; that sounds as if it would be a pleasant walk."
"Oh, very pleasant, indeed; will you excuse me for running away very abruptly? but I do not think I should have made time to call only for Mrs. Potter's note; another time, I hope we shall be able to improve our acquaintance, Miss Vernon. Good morning; pray don't come to the door. Half-past eight, Miss Vernon; a few friends; my brother brings some professors of music;" and she chattered out of the room, overpowering Kate's every effort to thank her for her kindness.
Nurse was in readiness to open the hall door, with a look of extreme displeasure on her countenance.
"I niver seen the like iv thim English," she said, indignantly. "Hesther was washin' the steps whin she come up—'Is Miss Vernon[187] at home?' ses she. 'Yes,' ses Hesther; 'I'll call Mrs. O'Toole.' An' away she runs for me; but me lady couldn't wait, I suppose; so in she walks widout—'By yer lave, or with yer lave,' instead of waiting to be announced like a christian."
"No matter, nurse, she brought me good news," replied Kate.
"Well, my love, I congratulate you, that your pious wishes are likely to be accomplished," said the Colonel, as she returned to the room. "This Mrs. Storey appears to be a good sort of woman."
"Oh, I am delighted with her! and no wonder; she has rekindled the almost extinct flame of hope; I do trust I may succeed with her friend. Do come out, dearest grandpapa, I feel too glad to stay in the house."
The next day was Tuesday, and Kate, escorted by Mrs. O'Toole and Cormac, started at an early hour—to keep Mrs. Potter's appointment—as they had to explore their way—this[188] they accomplished without much difficulty; and, leaving nurse and Cormac to wait her return, Kate followed a rather seedy man-servant, in plain clothes, up a dingy stair-case, into a very handsomely-furnished, but uninhabited-looking drawing-room, with richly-bound books, geometrically placed on round tables, vases filled with wax flowers, alabaster Cupids, and a grand, rosewood piano. She had hardly glanced at all this finery, when the door was opened hastily, and a fat and rather red-faced woman, her hair done up into little round, flat curls, secured with pins, who breathed audibly, after mounting the stairs, came quickly into the room.
"Ah, I beg pardon," she involuntarily exclaimed, as Kate's slight, elegant figure met her eye; "I understood Miss Vernon was here."
"I am Miss Vernon," replied Kate, quietly.
"Oh!" or, as she pronounced it, 'ho,' "indeed! then will you just step down to the[189] front parlour? that stupid man did not know who you were."
"Indeed!"
The front parlour at No. ——, St. Cecilia Terrace, was like all other front parlours of its class; there were horse-hair chairs and sofa, dyed moreen curtains, and the cast off furniture of humbler days, a former and less splendid house; no books, and a large work-basket; two young ladies that might be twelve and sixteen years of age, rose on their entrance; but did not long suspend the labours of their busy needles. There was a third person, whose semi-genteel dress, and hurried, anxious expression of face, and surrounding circle of shreds, of every hue and texture, declared her to be—"The very reasonable girl who goes out dress-making."
"Now, Miss Vernon," began Mrs. Potter, rapidly, almost before she was seated, "I want these two young ladies to be taught music. I understand you were a pupil of Herman's?"
[190]
"I was."
"And can you teach singing?"
"Yes."
"Well?"
"Why," said Kate, "I cannot possibly be considered a fair judge."
"Well, I should like some reference as to your capabilities."
"I have none
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