In spite of the family troubles, these were happy days for Beatrice. It so seldom happens that young ladies on the eve of their marriage have their husbands living near them. This happiness was hers, and Mr Oriel made the most of it. She was constantly being coaxed down to the parsonage by Patience, in order that she might give her opinion, in private, on some domestic arrangement, some piece of furniture, or some new carpet; but this privacy was always invaded. What Mr Oriel's parishioners did in these halcyon days, I will not ask. His morning services, however, had been altogether given up, and he had provided himself with a very excellent curate.
But one grief did weigh heavily on Beatrice. She continually heard her mother say things which made her feel that it would be more than ever impossible that Mary should be at her wedding; and yet she had promised her brother to ask her. Frank had also repeated his threat, that if Mary were not present, he would absent himself.
Beatrice did what most girls do in such a case; what all would do who are worth anything; she asked her lover's advice.
'Oh! but Frank can't be in earnest,' said the lover. 'Of course he'll be at our wedding.'
'You don't know him, Caleb. He is so changed that no one hardly would know him. You can't conceive how much in earnest he is, how determined and resolute. And then, I should like to have Mary so much if mamma would let her come.'
'Ask Lady Arabella,' said Caleb.
'Well, I suppose I must do that; but I know what she'll say, and Frank will never believe that I have done my best.' Mr Oriel comforted her with such little whispered consolations as he was able to afford, and then she went away on her errand to her mother.
She was indeed surprised at the manner in which her prayer was received.
She could hardly falter forth her petition; but when she had done so, Lady Arabella answered in this wise:-
'Well my dear, I have no objection, none the least; that is, of course, if Mary is disposed to behave herself properly.'
'Oh, mamma! of course she will,' said Beatrice; 'she always did and always does.'
'I hope she will, my love. But, Beatrice, when I say that I shall be glad to see her, of course I mean under certain conditions. I never disliked Mary Thorne, and if she would only let Frank understand that she will not listen to his mad proposals, I should be delighted to see her at Greshamsbury just as she used to be.'
Beatrice could say nothing in answer to this; but she felt very sure that Mary, let her intention be what it might, would not undertake to make Frank understand anything at anybody's bidding.
'I will tell you what I will do, my dear,' continued Lady Arabella; 'I will call on Mary myself.'
'What! at Dr Thorne's house?'
'Yes; why not? I have been at Dr Thorne's house before now.' And Lady Arabella could not but think of her last visit thither, and the strong feeling she had, as she came out, that she would never again enter those doors. She was, however, prepared to do anything on behalf of her rebellious son.
'Oh, yes! I know that, mamma.'
'I will call upon her, and I can possibly manage it, I will ask her myself to make one of your party. If so, you can go to her afterwards and make your own arrangements. Just write her a note, my dear, and say that I will call to-morrow at twelve. It might fluster her if I were to go without notice.'
Beatrice did as she was bid, but with a presentiment that no good would come of it. The note was certainly unnecessary for the purpose assigned by Lady Arabella, as Mary was not given to be flustered by such occurrences; but, perhaps, it was as well as that it was written, as it enabled her to make up her mind steadily as to what information should be given, and what should not be given to her coming visitor.
On the next morning, at the appointed hour, Lady Arabella walked down to the doctor's house. She never walked about the village without ****** some little disturbance among the inhabitants. With the squire, himself, they were quite familiar, and he could appear and reappear without creating any sensation; but her ladyship had not made herself equally common in men's sight. Therefore, when she went through all the Greshamsbury in ten minutes, and before she had left the house, Mrs Umbleby and Miss Gushing had quite settled between them what was the exact cause of the very singular event.
The doctor, when he had heard what was going to happen, carefully kept out of the way: Mary, therefore, had the pleasure of receiving Lady Arabella alone. Nothing could exceed her ladyship's affability. Mary thought that it perhaps might have savoured less of condescension; but then on this subject, Mary was probably prejudiced. Lady Arabella smiled and simpered, and asked after the doctor, and the cat, and Janet, and said everything that could be desired by any one less unreasonable than Mary Thorne.
'And now, Mary, I'll tell you why I have called.' Mary bowed her head slightly, as much to say, that she would be glad to receive any information that Lady Arabella could give her on that subject. 'Of course you know that Beatrice is going to be married very shortly.'
Mary acknowledged that she had heard so much.
'Yes: we think it will be in September--early in September--and that is coming very soon now. The poor girl is anxious that you should be at her wedding.' Mary turned slightly red; but she merely said, and that somewhat too coldly, that she was much indebted to Beatrice for her kindness.
'I can assure you, Mary, that she is very fond of you, as much as ever; and so, indeed, am I, and all of us are so. You know that Mr Gresham was always your friend.'
'Yes, he always was, and I am grateful to Mr Gresham,' answered Mary. It was well for Lady Arabella that she had her temper under command, for had she spoken her mind out there would have been very little chance left for reconciliation between her and Mary.
'Yes, indeed he was; and I think we all did what little we could to make you welcome at Greshamsbury, Mary, till those unpleasant occurrences took place.'
'What occurrences, Lady Arabella?'
