widow. And Charlie was goodnatured. “It’s to be as soon as ever we come back from our trip,” said Mrs Greenow to Kate, the next day, “and I’m lending her money to get all her things at once. He shall come to the scratch, though I go all the way to Norfolk by myself and fetch him by his ears. He shall come, as sure as my name’s Greenow,—or Bellfield, as it will be then, you know.”
“And I shouldn’t wonder if she did have to go to Norfolk,” said Kate to her cousin. That event, however, cannot be absolutely concluded in these pages. I can only say that, when I think of Mrs Greenow’s force of character and warmth of friendship, I feel that Miss Fairstairs’ prospects stand on good ground.
Mrs Greenow’s own marriage was completed with perfect success. She took Captain Bellfield for better or for worse, with a thorough determination to make the best of his worst, and to put him on his legs, if any such putting might be possible. He, at any rate, had been in luck. If any possible stroke of fortune could do him good, he had found that stroke. He had found a wife who could forgive all his past offences,—and also, if necessary, some future offences; who had money enough for all his wants, and kindness enough to gratify them, and who had, moreover,—which for the Captain was the most important,—strength enough to keep from him the power of ruining them both. Reader, let us wish a happy married life to Captain and Mrs Bellfield!
The day after the ceremony Alice Vavasor and Kate Vavasor started for Matching Priory.
Chapter LXXIX.
Diamonds Are Diamonds
Kate and Alice, as they drew near to their journey’s end, were both a little flurried, and I cannot but own that there was cause for nervousness. Kate Vavasor was to meet Mr Grey for the first time. Mr Grey was now staying at Matching and was to remain there until a week of his marriage. He was then to return to Cambridgeshire for a day or two, and after that was to become a guest at the rector’s house at Matching the evening before the ceremony. “Why not let him come here at once?” Lady Glencora had said to her husband. “It is such nonsense, you know.” But Mr Palliser would not hear of it. Mr Palliser, though a Radical in public life, would not for worlds transgress the social laws of his ancestors; and so the matter was settled. Kate on this very day of her arrival at Matching would thus see Mr Grey for the first time, and she could not but feel that she had been the means of doing Mr Grey much injury. She had moreover something,—not much indeed, but still something,—of that feeling which made the Pallisers terrible to the imagination, because of their rank and wealth. She was a little afraid of the Pallisers, but of Mr Grey she was very much afraid. And Alice also was not at her ease. She would fain have prevented so very quick a marriage had she not felt that now,—after all the trouble that she had caused,—there was nothing left for her but to do as others wished. When a day had been named she had hardly dared to demur, and had allowed Lady Glencora to settle everything as she had wished. But it was not only the suddenness of her marriage which dismayed her. Its nature and attributes were terrible to her. Both Lady Midlothian and the Marchioness of Auld Reekie were coming. When this was told to her by letter she had no means of escape. “Lady Macleod is right in nearly all that she says,” Lady Glencora had written to her. “At any rate, you needn’t be such a fool as to run away from your cousins, simply because they have handles to their names. You must take the thing as it comes.” Lady Glencora, moreover, had settled for her the list of bridesmaids. Alice had made a petition that she might be allowed to go through the ceremony with only one,—with none but Kate to back her. But she ought to have known that when she consented to be married at Matching,—and indeed she had had very little power of resisting that proposition,—all such questions would be decided for her. Two daughters therefore of Lady Midlothian were to act, Lady Jane and Lady Mary, and the one daughter of the Marchioness, who was also a Lady Jane, and there were to be two Miss Howards down from London,—girls who were known both to Alice and to Lady Glencora, and who were in some distant way connected with them both. A great attempt was made to induce the two Miss Pallisers to join the bevy, but they had frankly pleaded their age. “No woman should stand up as a bridesmaid,” said the strong-minded Sophy, “who doesn’t mean to get married if she can. Now I don’t mean to get married, and I won’t put myself among the young people.” Lady Glencora was therefore obliged to submit to do the work with only six. But she swore that they should be very smart. She was to give all the dresses, and Mr Palliser was to give a brooch and an armlet to each. “She is the only person in the world I want to pet, except yourself,” Lady Glencora had said to her husband, and he had answered by giving her carte blanche as regards expense.
All this was very terrible to Kate, who had not much feminine taste for finery. Of the dress she had heard,—of the dress which was waiting at Matching to be made up after her arrival,—though as yet she knew nothing of the trinkets. There are many girls who could submit themselves at a moment to the kindness of such a woman as Lady Glencora. Perhaps most girls would do so, for of all such women in the world, Lady Glencora was the least inclined to patronize or to be condescending in her kindnesses. But Kate Vavasor was one to whom such submission would not come easily.
“I wish I was out of this boat,” she said to Alice in the train.
“So that I might be shipwrecked alone!”
“No; there can be no shipwreck to you. When the day of action comes you will be taken away, up to heaven, upon the clouds. But what are they to do with me?”
“You’ll find that Glencora will not desert you. You can’t conceive what taste she has.”
“I’d sooner be bridesmaid to Charlie Fairstairs. I would indeed. My place in the world is not among Cabinet Ministers and old countesses.”
“Nor mine.”
“Yes; it seems that yours is to be there. They are your cousins, and you have made at any rate one great friend among them,—one who is to be the biggest of them all.”
“And you are going to throw me over, Kate?”
“To tell the truth, Alice, I sometimes think you had better throw me over. I know it would be sad,—sad for both, but perhaps it would be better. I have done you much harm and no good; and now where I am going I shall disgrace you.” She talked even of getting out at some station and returning, and would have done so had not Alice made it impossible. As it was, the evening found her and Alice together entering the park-gate at Matching, in Lady Glencora’s carriage. Lady Glencora had sent a note to the station. “She could not come herself,” she said, “because Mr Palliser was a little fussy. You’ll understand, dear, but don’t say a word.” Alice didn’t say a word, having been very anxious not to lower Mr Palliser in her cousin’s respect.
None of the Lady Janes and Lady Marys were at Matching when they arrived. Indeed, there was no guest there but Mr Grey, for which Kate felt herself to be extremely grateful. Mr Grey came into the hall, standing behind Mr Palliser, who stood behind his wife. Alice passed by them both, and was at once in her lover’s arms. “Then I must introduce myself,” said Lady Glencora to Kate, “and my husband also.” This she did, and no woman in England could have excelled her in the manner of doing it. “I have heard so much about you,” said she, still keeping Kate’s hand, “and I know how good you’ve been;—and how wicked you have been,” she added in a whisper. Then Mr Grey was brought up to her, and they were introduced. It was not till some days had passed over them that she felt herself at all at her ease with Mr Grey, and I doubt whether she ever reached that point with Mr Palliser; but Lady Glencora she knew, and liked, and almost loved, from the first moment of their meeting.
“Have you heard the news?” said Lady Glencora to Alice, the first minute that they were alone. Alice, of course, had not heard the news. “Mr Bott is going to marry Mrs Marsham. There is such a row about it. Plantagenet is nearly mad. I never knew him so disgusted in my life. Of course I don’t dare to tell him so, but I am so heartily rejoiced. You know how I love them both, and I could not possibly wish any better reward for either.” Alice, who had personally known more of Mr Bott than