She laughed at him,and declared she always intended to grow lovely in her old age."I thought I ought to dress myself grandly,too,on Guy's birthday.Do you like me,John?""Very much:I like that black velvet gown,substantial,soft,and rich,without any show.And that lace frill round your throat--what sort of lace is it?""Valenciennes.When I was a girl,if I had a weakness it was for black velvet and Valenciennes."John smiled,with visible pleasure that she had even a "weakness"gratified now."And you have put on my brooch at last,I see.""Yes;but--"and she shook her head--"remember your promise!""Phineas,this wife of mine is a vain woman.She knows her own price is 'far above rubies'--or diamonds either.No,Mrs.Halifax,be not afraid;I shall give you no more jewels."She did not need them.She stood amidst her three sons with the smile of a Cornelia.She felt her husband's eyes rest on her,with that quiet perfectness of love--better than any lover's love--"The fulness of a stream that knew no fall"--the love of a husband who has been married nearly twenty-five years.
Here a troop of company arrived,and John left me to assume his duty as host.
No easy duty,as I soon perceived;for times were hard,and men's minds troubled.Every one,except the light-heeled,light-hearted youngsters,looked grave.
Many yet alive remember this year--1825--the panic year.War having ceased,commerce,in its worst form,started into sudden and unhealthy overgrowth.Speculations of all kinds sprung up like fungi,out of dead wood,flourished a little,and dropped away.Then came ruin,not of hundreds,but thousands,of all ranks and classes.
This year,and this month in this year,the breaking of many established firms,especially bankers,told that the universal crash had just begun.
It was felt even in our retired country neighbourhood,and among our friendly guests this night,both gentle and simple--and there was a mixture of both,as only a man in Mr.Halifax's position could mix such heterogeneous elements--towns-people and country-people,dissenters and church-folk,professional men and men of business.
John dared to do it--and did it.But though through his own personal influence many of different ranks whom he liked and respected,meeting in his own house,learned to like and respect one another,still,even to-night,he could not remove the cloud which seemed to hang over all--a cloud so heavy that none present liked referring to it.They hit upon all sorts of extraneous subjects,keeping far aloof from the one which evidently pressed upon all minds--the universal distress abroad,the fear that was knocking at almost every man's door but ours.
Of course the talk fell on our neighbours--country talk always does.
I sat still,listening to Sir Herbert Oldtower,who was wondering that Lord Luxmore suffered the Hall to drop into disgraceful decay,and had begun cutting down the pine-woods round it.
"Woods,older than his title by many a century--downright sacrilege!
And the property being entailed,too--actual robbery of the heir!
But I understand anybody may do anything with Lord Ravenel--a mere selfish,cynical,idle voluptuary!""Indeed you are mistaken,Sir Herbert!"cried Mr.Jessop of Norton Bury--a very honest fellow was Josiah Jessop."He banks with me--that is,there are some poor Catholics in this neighbourhood whom Ipay--but bless me!he told me not to tell.No,indeed.Cynical he may be;idle,perhaps--most men of fashion are--but Lord Ravenel is not the least like his father--is he,Mr.Halifax?""I have not seen Lord Ravenel for many years."And as if,even to this day,the mention of the young man's name brought back thoughts of the last day we had seen him--a day which,its sadness having gone by,still kept its unspoken sacredness,distinct from all other days--John moved away and went and talked to a girl whom both he and the mother liked above most young girls we knew--simple,sunny-faced Grace Oldtower.
Dancing began.Spite of my Quaker education,or perhaps for that very reason,I delighted to see dancing.Dancing,such as it was then,when young folk moved breezily and lightly,as if they loved it;skimming like swallows down the long lines of the Triumph--gracefully winding in and out through the graceful country dance--lively always,but always decorous.In those days people did not think it necessary to the pleasures of dancing that any stranger should have liberty to snatch a shy,innocent girl round the waist,and whirl her about in mad waltz or awkward polka,till she stops,giddy and breathless,with burning cheek and tossed hair,looking,--as I would not have liked to see our pretty Maud look.
No;though while watching the little lady to-night,I was inclined to say to her:
"When you do dance,I wish you A wave o'the sea,that you might ever do Nothing but that."And in her unwearied spirits she seemed as if she would readily have responded to the wish.
We did not see Guy among the dancers,who were now forming in a somewhat confused square,in order to execute a new dance called quadrilles,of which Miss Grace Oldtower was to be the instructress.
"Where is Guy?"said the mother,who would have missed him among a room full of people."Have you seen Guy anywhere,Miss Silver?"Miss Silver,who sat playing tunes--she had declined dancing--turned,colouring visibly.
"Yes,I have seen him;he is in the study."
"Would you be so kind as to fetch him?"
The governess rose and crossed the room,with a stately walk--statelier than usual.Her silk gown,of some rich soft colour,fashioned after Mrs.Halifax's taste,and the chaplet of bay-leaves,which Maud had insisted upon putting in her dark hair,made an astonishing change in Miss Silver.I could not help noticing it to Mrs.Halifax.
