Read Ebook: The Manoeuvring Mother (vol. 3 of 3) by Bury Charlotte Campbell Lady

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Ebook has 1128 lines and 65431 words, and 23 pages

"Are you so fond of scenery, my lord?" asked Christobelle, turning towards her other companion.

"Yes, his lordship is a poet and a painter," replied Miss Ponsonby; "he must, therefore, necessarily love the stupendous and the beautiful, such as now lies before us. His lordship muses at the view of Ossian's 'Cona,' and writes verses upon Ballahuish ferry."

"Miss Ponsonby is pleased to be merry at my expense," said Lord Farnborough; "nevertheless, I worship Nature's beautiful productions."

"Then you must visit the falls of Kinlochmore, my lord; and if you are poetical, muse over those mountain-tops, and visit the little ruin of St. Mungo's Isle, to hear the breeze murmur of the clans of Glencoe and Lochaber."

"Will you, the presiding spirit, attend me there?" asked Lord Farnborough.

"If I can quit Fairlee for a whole day, I shall be happy to attend you."

"But mind, Miss Wetheral, I insist upon your costume; you look now like the ghost of Scotland flitting among the barbarians who have ravaged her soil, and changed her customs."

Christobelle continued some time in the island with Miss Ponsonby and Lord Farnborough, as the party formed in little groups under the trees, to gaze upon the calm lake and its beautiful shores, and they wandered round the tower and its precincts, which once held a queen of Scotland in durance. Christobelle thought Lord Farnborough spoke with feeling upon the events of Lochleven Castle; and she contemplated his intelligent countenance with an interest remote from the fear which took possession of her mind, when her lady mother first urged her intention that she should marry Lord Selgrave.

They were soon deeply engaged in Scottish history, following the current of events which closed the reign and life of Mary; and though Miss Ponsonby contended that her existence proved a course of wicked efforts to gain the English crown, and raise rebellion in her cousin's dominions, Christobelle defended the beautiful captive, with all the rhetoric of youthful enthusiasm. It was, however, time to return to Fairlee, and Christobelle could no longer linger with her friends in the Douglas Isle. General Ponsonby and Lord Farnborough gallantly escorted her into the little vessel which had awaited her commands, and where Janet still sat in expectation of her return. Mr. Ponsonby returned to the company with his father, as the boatmen pushed from the shore, but Lord Farnborough bounded into the vessel, and took his seat by the side of Christobelle, ere it drove from its mooring. He meant, he said, to see her land safely on the grounds of Fairlee, and it was useless to deny him the pleasure, or, he might say, the propriety of accompanying her across the lake.

The vessel at that moment left the shore, and the little horn band almost instantly played with great taste, "My heart's in the Highlands." Christobelle turned her head towards the shore, and gazed upon the gay groups preparing for an early meal. Their forms gradually receded from view, and were lost in the distance; but the music continued its dying strains, and fell fainter and fainter upon the breeze. The silence was unbroken for some time, as they crossed the slumbering lake; but Lord Farnborough, at last, broke the stillness of the scene by asking Christobelle if she amused herself in sketching the lovely views on either side Lochleven. From this question, answered in the affirmative, they entered upon the subject of painting, which gradually led to its sister art--poetry; and Christobelle was delighted to know that when they visited St. Mungo's Isle, she would judge of his progress in both departments. They were both to go provided with drawing materials; and, if Christobelle insisted upon it, his lordship would submit a few poetic inspirations to her "better judgment," upon a rock overhanging the lake, even before the party took place.

How could Christobelle object? yet she made no reply, or even answered his appealing look. The young lord's countenance fell.

"You will not speak to me, Miss Wetheral; you will not say I am welcome at Fairlee sometimes."

"My mother will be glad to see you, I am sure, Lord Farnborough," she replied, confusedly, a second time.

Christobelle's confusion increased at this speech, and at the earnest look which Lord Farnborough cast upon her. She could only stammer forth an assurance that she must be very happy also to see his lordship whenever he paid a visit to Fairlee; and that assurance gave her companion confidence to urge the necessity of escorting her to the very door of her home. This Christobelle declined, with a seriousness which forbade remonstrance; she had Janet with her, and Fairlee lay too near the lake to allow of any fears for her safety. She, therefore, took leave of his lordship, as he assisted her to quit the little vessel which belonged to the Cove of Fairlee, and which her father dedicated to her exclusive use. Lord Farnborough lingered a few moments.

"Miss Wetheral, we shall meet again before the party to St. Mungo's Isle takes place."

"When may we expect you at Fairlee, my lord?"

"To-morrow. Promise me you will not go out till I come."

"I seldom leave the grounds before two o'clock. Remember the effusions you promised I should see."

"Will you read them, and judge a poor poet mercifully?"

"I shall say exactly what I think, my lord."

"Then I stand condemned at once."

"Perhaps not; adieu, my lord!"

"But one moment, Miss Wetheral. How anxious you are to escape!"

"I have left my mother some hours alone. I must return to her, and account for my absence, Lord Farnborough."

"It is not anxiety then to leave me, to get rid of me, Miss Wetheral?"

"No, indeed!"

"Then farewell for many dull hours. The Douglas Isle will have no charms for me, since the genius of Lochleven is withdrawn."

Lord Farnborough respectfully bowed, and re-entered the boat. Christobelle went forwards with Janet, but curiosity induced her to look back upon the lake, as they gained a rising ground about five hundred yards from the shore. The vessel was again traversing the water, and Lord Farnborough was watching their receding steps, as he stood with folded arms in the stern of the mimic sloop. He waved his handkerchief as Christobelle stood for a moment to contemplate the scene; she waved her plaid in answer to the signal. Twice were the signals exchanged, at separate intervals, till a grove of firs closed the lake from her view; and then she walked on, slowly and silently to the house.

She did not utter a word to her companion and attendant, the patient Janet; her mind was revolving the events of the day, and it dwelt with peculiar interest upon the unexpected appearance of Lord Farnborough and his family, on a solitary island of Lochleven. It was most extraordinary that her introduction to Lord Farnborough should take place then and there--that her first interview with the Selgrave of former days, whose very name brought tears into her eyes, should be one of extreme interest--nay, of growing intimacy; that she was now to be accompanied in her rides and walks by this once hated lord; and that, without an effort on her mother's part, they had themselves agreed to draw, to sing, to become companions together, in the wild mountains of Scotland, when none were near to urge the introduction, or plan the scheme of their amusements.

While her mother lay in darkness, dwelling upon the evil destiny of Clara, ignorant even of her amusements, she had become known to the Selgrave of her former speculation; and without her knowledge and concurrence, his lordship was engaged to visit Fairlee! How wonderfully did events arrange themselves without human interference, and how foolishly did she, in younger days, reject the idea of becoming acquainted with a young man whom she had never seen, and could not justly deprecate! How could she ever attach a feeling of dislike to a creature so intelligent, so agreeable, so very attentively polite! How rash to judge of any human being, unknown and unseen!

Whatever her youthful fancy conjured up to deform the image of "Lord Selgrave" in her mental reveries, not a feeling separate from admiration and pleased remembrance hovered round her meditations upon Lord Farnborough, at this period of time. Christobelle was deeply engaged with her own thoughts when she entered the hall at Fairlee. Silence reigned in its precincts, and she looked forward to hours of irritable conference with her mother, ere she could press her silent pillow, and think unrestrainedly of all that had passed. Yet, she heard voices in the sitting-room; and, above all, she heard her mother's voice in its long-lost tones of playfulness, addressing a stranger. She heard two voices reply. One she recognized to be her father's beloved tones. He was then arrived: he had fulfilled his word of promise to be with her on her birthday at last! Christobelle entered the room in haste, and flew into his arms.

"I thought you could not return so soon, papa; I had quite given up the idea of seeing you till June: how good this is of you, my own dear papa!"

Sir John Spottiswoode expressed his equal pleasure at the meeting, and he complimented Christobelle upon her appearance of perfect health. It was a grateful satisfaction to find she had not forgotten him. He remembered, with interest, their former studies, and he expected to be astonished by her rapid progress in every pursuit, during the long interregnum of four years. Christobelle assured him of his mistake.

"I have been a wild creature for years, and, except in drawing and music, I have not done credit to your instructions. You will be obliged to begin my education again, Sir John."

"Bell is a dear, flighty girl," said Lady Wetheral, in affectionate accents, which had never yet gladdened her daughter's heart at Fairlee--"Bell is wild as the curlews upon the lake. She requires your society to tame her flights. She has been absent now three long hours."

"I have seen extraordinary things, and extraordinary people," Christobelle exclaimed, as she doffed her mountain-cap, and took Sir John Spottiswoode's offered seat.

"In that dress, my love?--surely not in that dress, Bell?"

"I have been among the high ones of the land," continued Christobelle, in high spirits, delighted at being with her father, and near Sir John Spottiswoode. "I have been among the gay Southrons in Douglas Isle, and a peer of the realm has escorted me across the lake."

Lady Wetheral looked incredulous, and somewhat offended. Christobelle was obliged to detail the events of the morning, to mitigate the rising storm; and what a change came over her ladyship's countenance, as her daughter mentioned the attention and intended visit of Lord Farnborough!--joy sparkled in her eyes, and excitement drew her form to its utmost height. She did not answer--words were too feeble to express her deep gratification.

"What sort of a looking person is Lord Farnborough, now?" asked Sir John Spottiswoode.

"Most intelligent, most agreeable," she replied, "but not handsome. I do not consider him handsome."

"Are they here for any length of time?"

"I am ready to attend you over hill and dale," replied Sir John Spottiswoode--"over mountain, and through glen."

"That is delightful. After dinner, then, we will set forth."

Christobelle had a packet of letters to read from Shropshire, entrusted to her father's care; and, till the dressing-bell sounded, she was engaged in devouring their contents. All were well in England. Isabel wrote only of her children, and she wished to exhibit them at Fairlee, if Miss Tabitha's health would only allow the visit--but she would neither die nor get well. Anna Maria detailed the delights of the winter's sport in Shropshire, and triumphed in the glory of her husband. They had thirty-seven "brushes" of the last season, which the children played with in the hall, and Tom had been in at the death of each. The eldest boy, Tom, could roar "Tally-ho" as loud as the whipper-in, and the girl climbed trees like a squirrel. Mrs. Pynsent added a short postscript of one line, "Take care of Sir Jacky, Miss Bell."

Christobelle involuntarily raised her eyes towards Sir John Spottiswoode, as she smiled at the concise charge. He was gazing earnestly upon her; her eye sank under the expression of his fixed attention, and she resumed her reading; but a deep blush painfully suffused her cheek. She had met no closely-fixed observation till this moment, and she knew Sir John Spottiswoode's eye was still upon her. She did not dare meet his glance again.

"And you really have wished to lead me through these romantic scenes?" said Sir John Spottiswoode, as Christobelle leaned upon his arm, on the very spot where she parted with Lord Farnborough in the morning; "you have seriously thought of your old friend during his absence, and wished him with you?"

"Yes; every storm which disturbed the lake, and every sunny gleam which gilded its tranquillity, made me think of you, and wish you by my side to enjoy it."

"Perhaps I was equally anxious to find myself strolling with you on these magnificent shores."

"You were otherwise engaged," she replied, quickly; "you had affairs to arrange, and property to amuse and interest your thoughts; but I have had no companion for years, to enliven my hours of solitary walks. I thought of you, when you were too busy to consider me."

"My thoughts were not always employed in Worcestershire, Miss Wetheral; but take me to your haunts, and let me see the views you have so long contemplated."

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