"Well, Alice is more beautiful than her mother ever was."
There went across the table a bright electric spark out of Mrs.
Buckley's eye into her husband's, as rapid as those which move the quivering telegraph needles, and yet not unobserved, I think, by Captain Brentwood, for there grew upon his face a pleasant smile, which, rapidly broadening, ended in a low laugh, by no means disagreeable to hear, though Sam wondered what the joke could be, until the Captain said,--
"An altogether comical party that last night at the Donovans', Buckley!
The most comical I ever was at."
Nevertheless, I don't believe that it was that which made him laugh at all.
"A capital party!" said the Major, laughing. "Do you know, Brentwood, I always liked those Donovans, under the rose, and last night I liked them better than ever. They were not such very bad neighbours, although old Donovan wanted to fight a duel with me once. At all events, the welcome I got last night will make me remember them kindly in future."
"I must go down and call there before they go," said Mrs. Buckley.
"People who have been our neighbours so many years must not go away without a kind farewell. Was Desborough there?"
"Indeed, he was. Don't you know he is related to the Donovans?"
"Impossible!"
"Fact, my dear, I assure you, according to Mrs. Donovan, who told me that the De Novans and the Desboroughs were cognate Norman families, who settled in Ireland together, and have since frequently inter-married."
"I suppose," said Mrs. Buckley, laughing, "that Desborough did not deny it."
"Not at all, my dear: as he said to me privately, 'Buckley, never deny a relationship with a man worth forty thousand pounds, the least penny, though your ancestors' bones should move in their graves.'"
"I suppose," said Mrs. Buckley, "that he made himself as agreeable as usual."
"As usual, my dear! He made even Brentwood laugh; he danced all the evening with that giddy girl Lesbia Burke, who let slip that she remembered me at Naples in 1805, when she was there with that sad old set, and who consequently must be nearly as old as myself."
"I hope you danced with her," said Mrs. Buckley.
"Indeed I did, my dear. And she wore a wreath of yellow chrysanthemum, no other flowers being obtainable. I assure you we 'kept the flure' in splendid style."
They were all laughing at the idea of the Major dancing, when Sam exclaimed, "Good Lord!"
"What's the matter my boy?" said the Major.
"I must cry peccavi," said Sam. "Father, you will never forgive me! I forgot till this moment a most important message. I was rather knocked up, you see, and went to sleep, and that sent it out of my head."
"You are forgiven, my boy, be it what it may. I hope it is nothing very serious."
"Well, it is very serious," said Sam. "As I was coming by Hanging Rock, I rode up to the door a minute, to see if Cecil was at home,--and Mrs.
Mayford came out and wanted me to get off and come in, but I hadn't time; and she said, 'The Dean is coming here to-night, and he'll be with you to-morrow night, I expect. So don't forget to tell your mother.'"
"To-morrow night!" said Mrs. Buckley, aghast. "Why, my dear, boy, that is to-night! What shall I do?"
"Nothing at all, my love," said the Major, "but make them get some supper ready. He can't have expected us to wait dinner till this time."
"I thought," said Captain Brentwood, "that the Dean was gone back to England."
"So he is," said the Major. "But this is a new one. The good old Dean has resigned."
"What is the new one's name?" said the Captain.
"I don't know," said the Major. "Desborough said it was a Doctor Maypole, and that he was very like one in appearance. But you can't trust Desborough, you know; he never remembers names. I hope he may be as good a man as his predecessor."
"I hope he may be no worse," said Captain Brentwood; "but I hope, in addition, that he may be better able to travel, and look after his outlying clergy a little more."
"It looks like it," said the Major, "to be down as far as this, before he has been three months installed."
Mrs. Buckley went out to the kitchen to give orders; and after that, they sat for an hour or more over their wine, till at length, the Major said,--
"We must give him up in another hour."
Then, as if they had heard him, the dogs began to bark. Rover, who had, against rules, sneaked into the house, and lain PERDU under the sofa, discovered his retreat by low growling, as though determined to do his duty, let the consequences be what they might. Every now and then, too, when his feelings overpowered him, he would discharge a 'Woof,' like a minute gun at sea.
"That must be him, father," said Sam. "You'll catch it, Mr. Rover!"
He ran out; a tall black figure was sitting on horseback before the door, and a pleasant cheery voice said, "Pray, is this Major Buckley's?"
"Yes, sir," said Sam; "we have been expecting you."
He called for the groom and held the stranger's horse while he dismounted. Then he assisted him to unstrap his valise, and carried it in after him.
The Major, Mrs. Buckley, and the Captain had risen, and were standing ready to greet the Church dignitary as he came in, in the most respectful manner. But when the Major had looked for a moment on the tall figure in black, which advanced towards the fire, instead of saying, "Sir, I am, highly honoured by your visit," or, "Sir, I bid you most heartily welcome," he dashed forward in the most undignified fashion, upsetting a chair, and seizing the reverend Dean by both hands, exclaimed, "God bless my heart and soul! Frank Maberly!"
It was he: the mad curate, now grown into a colonial dean,--sobered, apparently, but unchanged in any material point: still elastic and upright, looking as if for twopence he would take off the black cutaway coat and the broad-brimmed hat, and row seven in the University eight, at a moment's notice. There seems something the matter with him though, as he holds the Major's two hands in his, and looks on his broad handsome face. Something like a shortness of breath prevented his speech, and, strange, the Major seems troubled with the same complaint; but Frank gets over it first, and says,--
"My dear old friend, I am so glad to see you!"
And Mrs. Buckley says, laying her hand upon his arm, "It seems as if all things were arranged to make my husband and myself the happiest couple in the world. If we had been asked to-night, whom of all people in the world we should have been most glad to see as the new Dean, we should have answered at once, Frank Maberly; and here he is!"
"Then, you did not know whom to expect," said Frank.
"Not we, indeed," said the Major. "Desborough said the new Dean was a Doctor Maypole; and I pictured to myself an old schoolmaster with a birch rod in his coat tail-pocket. And we have been in such a stew all the evening about giving the great man a proper reception. Ha! ha! ha!"
"And will you introduce me to this gentleman?" said the Dean, moving towards Sam, who stood behind his mother.
"This," said the Major, with a radiant smile, "is my son Samuel, whom, I believe, you have seen before."
"So, the pretty boy that I knew at Drumston," said the Dean, laying his hands on Sam's shoulders, "has grown into this noble gentleman! It makes me feel old, but I am glad to feel old under such circumstances.
Let me turn your face to the light and see if I can recognise the little lad whom I used to carry pickaback across Hatherleigh Water."
Sam looked in his face--such a kindly good placid face, that it seemed beautiful, though by some rules it was irregular and ugly enough. The Dean laid his hand on Sam's curly head, and said, "God bless you, Samuel Buckley," and won Sam's heart for ever.
All this time Captain Brentwood had stood with his back against the chimney-piece, perfectly silent, having banished all expression from his countenance; now, however, Major Buckley brought up the Dean and introduced him:--
"My dear Brentwood, the Dean of B----; not Dean to us though, so much as our dear old friend Frank Maberly."