Margaret renewed her promise of going to Wardenscourt, twice in the library, and once at the hall door, whither her warm-hearted friend followed her; and then the carriage started from the door.
"Ah! there is poor Mr. Humphries," said Mason, as they swept out of the shrubberies.
Margaret looked up, and beheld the gentleman in question, leaning on a gate with his handkerchief in his hand. There was no time for a bow, so she passed him without his having the comfort of knowing that she had seen him.
They arrived late in the evening at Mrs. Fitzpatrick's. The musical dash of the sea, and the scent of the air, warned Margaret their near approach to home.
Her friend was delighted to receive her back. She had felt her absence more than she had cared to acknowledge in her letters, for fear of interfering with the pleasure of her visit.
Each had much to tell the other, though of a very different kind; and Margaret had several times to repeat the fact that she came back single-hearted. So strange did it seem to Mrs. Fitzpatrick, that her faultless beauty should not have been successfully sought before this.
A slight discrepancy between Mason's and Miss Capel's account made Mrs.
Fitzpatrick rather suspicious, and many weeks elapsed, before she could give up the idea that a certain Mr. Humphries was likely to make his appearance at her cottage to conclude the preliminaries already entered into, of a marriage between himself and her beautiful guest.
Meanwhile, Margaret was busy ordering a handsome, gold Chatelaine, or Equipage, for Harriet; she drew the pattern, she corresponded almost daily with the jeweller; she knew no rest until it was finished according to her wish.
It so happened that Harriet had not seen one of these useful toys. It arrived the day before her marriage, and she was delighted beyond measure. In a few days, Margaret received a letter thanking her a thousand times for her beautiful gift, and saying that she had deferred writing till she could inform her that she was actually married, a circumstance of which she had entertained great doubts until she found herself at the church-door, when she supposed that even Mr. Gage could not well retract. That she begged Margaret to notice that a blot on the paper was of his making; that they were going leisurely through Wales, previous to embarking for Dublin, and that it was with the sincerest regret that she found herself obliged to sign her letters "Harriet Gage."
CHAPTER X.
Still the clouds gather, still must fear and doubt Unwelcome partners, page her weary footsteps, Shall not time draw these curtains?
ANON.
Time sped on at the Cottage as smoothly as it had done before Margaret left it. The spring came sooner than she could have believed; the beautiful early summer followed. She was out almost all day, rambling by the sea-side, working in the garden, visiting the poor. She heard at intervals from Elizabeth, and so traced her progress through the Italian States. At length, she said that her father and herself had it in contemplation to return to England in June; and that they had been very earnestly pressed by Lord and Lady Raymond to come at once to Wardenscourt. That her father inclined to this plan, and that for herself "all places were alike to her." This was the only intimation she gave that her loss still preyed upon her mind. "If she decided upon this plan," she added, "she hoped to have Margaret to meet her." A letter from Harriet followed this, very shortly. She stated that she had arrived at Wardenscourt three days ago, that Lady Raymond had written by the same post an invitation to Mrs. Fitzpatrick, and that both that lady and Margaret were expected at Wardenscourt in three days' time. She said that Captain Gage and his daughter were on their road home, and that Bessy counted upon meeting Margaret when she came to England.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick was well contented to go. Margaret could not refuse; her heart sank, now that the time came, when she thought that Mr.
Haveloc's estate was at no great distance from Wardenscourt; and that if he were not abroad, she might possibly be exposed to the chance of meeting him. When Harriet talked of her visit as a distant thing, she had fancied she could have borne it very well. Of course this agreeable prospect was kept to herself, and she tried to express a good deal of pleasure at the idea of the journey. They performed it in one day; there was no hardship in early rising those fine summer mornings, and it was not six o'clock when they arrived at Wardenscourt. The grounds were spacious and highly cultivated; the house rather too new for Margaret's taste. In front, there was a white portico built in with the house, and filled with plants; on the other side, a long verandah, the floor of which was raised by a flight of steps to a level with the drawing-room windows. Lady Raymond was in this verandah among her plants, and with her, a bold-eyed woman, who stared hard at the new comers, and then flung herself out of the verandah and into the shrubberies, much as if they had been lepers. "My friend, Lady James Deacon;" said Lucy, after she had welcomed them, "the sweetest woman--when you know her."
Margaret thought it almost a pity she was so careful to hide the sweetness she might possess; and she thought, with a smile, of the caustic remarks that Harriet would be likely to make upon her manner.
"Harriet is out riding with Mr. Gage," said Lucy turning to Margaret, "do wait here till she comes in; she will be so delighted to see you.
But for you, dear Mrs. Fitzpatrick," she said, again taking her hand, "I should recommend, do you know, an hour's complete rest, before you dress for dinner."
Mrs. Fitzpatrick thought her advice very kind and excellent, and went up to her room. Margaret remained with Lady Raymond. In a few minutes, Harriet and Mr. Gage rode up to the steps. Harriet dismounted hastily, and ran up into the verandah.
"She is looking very well, is she not?" said Lucy.
She looked brilliant, in perfect health, excited by exercise, the red and white of her fine complexion more intense; the dark hue of her chestnut hair, defining the oval contour of her forehead and cheeks. She sprang forward to greet Margaret, as warmly affectionate as ever.
"And you, ma mie--I wish I could say every thing I want at once. Lucy, love, the Sedleys were not at home; I say, George. Well, if he is not looking at the chestnut's fore foot! I never knew such a fidget about horses. George! how polite you are to Miss Capel."
"Miss Capel!" said Mr. Gage, coming up quickly into the verandah, "I am heartily glad to see you again."
His manner was so much more blunt and frank than before--he reminded her so strongly of Captain Gage, that she was quite astonished.
"Ah, how I have improved him!" said Harriet, who had been watching Margaret's countenance.
Mr. Gage laughed, and told Harriet that she had nearly lamed her chestnut, and might be satisfied with her morning's work.
Harriet took off her hat, and sat down with her back to him, saying, that what she had marred, he might mend; he was good for nothing else.
Her voice, her face, so full of happiness, contradicted her words.
Mr. Gage went out to look after the horses, which were equally beloved by both of them.
Lady Raymond, coming up to her sister, stood arranging her hair, which was slightly ruffled by her hat.
"Well, Mrs. Gage, you took your time this morning," she said; "you find Mr. Gage's company very agreeable, I conclude; since you certainly give me but little of yours. Always, I assure you, my dear Miss Capel, rambling about with Mr. Gage."
Margaret smiled at Harriet, who looked half bashful, half mischievous.
"It is very well it has turned out so tolerably," said she; "because I always tell George that you had a great hand in bringing things about."
"But you are quite happy, Harriet?"
"Yes; pretty comfortable. George really did take a house for me--a very pretty house. So that when he is obliged to leave Dublin, I shall let him go, and remain behind; for I like the society very much."
"How independently she talks," said Lucy, laughing.
"George has so many faults," pursued Harriet; "I fancy sometimes he must be jealous. If you knew the trouble I had to get any of his brother officers introduced to me. I only know two--such sweet young men! One of them plays the cornopean admirably, and the other makes the most excellent toffy."
"Might I ask what toffy is?" enquired Margaret.
"It is made, my love, by boiling treacle and sugar," replied Harriet.
"Oh, and lemon-peel!" said Lady Raymond.
"No; almonds," replied Harriet; "that was the way we made it one morning when George was gone to a steeple-chase; and when he came back he could not think what made everything so sticky. That is the only objection to the compounding of toffy. You still like Mrs. Fitzpatrick, Margaret?"
she said, turning to her with much softness of expression.
"Very much! I am truly attached to her," replied Margaret.
"I am glad of it. No doubt she is a delightful person," said Harriet.
"But you are not going to be an old maid. I have my wits about me; and I will take any bet that any body pleases to offer, you don't go back single. Everard Gage comes here this very day, does not he, Lucy?"
"Yes; but Everard--" said Lady Raymond.
"I know he will be as hard to rouse as a polar bear," said Harriet; "but I pique myself on doing wonders."
"But pray, Harriet, not for me," said Margaret. "Do not disturb Mr.
Everard's tranquillity on my account."
"The best match decidedly about this neighbourhood is Mr. Haveloc, of Tynebrook," said Lady Raymond, laughing. "I strongly recommend him to Miss Capel's notice; and though he is at present in London, he is soon expected to return. Lord Raymond likes him extremely."