"Wooed and married and a"."
"Edith!" said Margaret, gently, "Edith!"
But, as Margaret half suspected, Edith had fallen asleep. She lay curledup on the sofa in the back drawing-room in Harley Street, looking verylovely in her white muslin and blue ribbons. If Titania had ever beendressed in white muslin and blue ribbons, and had fallen asleep on acrimson damask sofa in a back drawing-room, Edith might have beentaken for her. Margaret was struck afresh by her cousin s beauty. Theyhad grown up together from childhood, and all along Edith had beenremarked upon by every one, except Margaret, for her prettiness; butMargaret had never thought about it until the last few days, when theprospect of soon losing her companion seemed to give force to everysweet quality and charm which Edith possessed. They had been talkingabout wedding dresses, and wedding ceremonies; and Captain Lennox,and what he had told Edith about her future life at Corfu, where hisregiment was stationed; and the difficulty of keeping a piano in goodtune (a difficulty which Edith seemed to consider as one of the mostformidable that could befall her in her married life), and what gownsshe should want in the visits to Scotland, which would immediately succeed her marriage; but the whispered tone had latterly become moredrowsy; and Margaret, after a pause of a few minutes, found, as shefancied, that in spite of the buzz in the next room, Edith had rolledherself up into a soft ball of muslin and ribbon, and silken curls, andgone off into a peaceful little after-dinner nap.
Margaret had been on the point of telling her cousin of some of theplans and visions which she entertained as to her future life in thecountry parsonage, where her father and mother lived; and where herbright holidays had always been passed, though for the last ten yearsher aunt Shaw"s house had been considered as her home. But in defaultof a listener, she had to brood over the change in her life silently asheretofore. It was a happy brooding, although tinged with regret atbeing separated for an indefinite time from her gentle aunt and dearcousin. As she thought of the delight of filling the important post ofonly daughter in Helstone parsonage, pieces of the conversation out ofthe next room came upon her ears. Her aunt Shaw was talking to thefive or six ladies who had been dining there, and whose husbands werestill in the dining-room. They were the familiar acquaintances of thehouse; neighbours whom Mrs. Shaw called friends, because shehappened to dine with them more frequently than with any other people,and because if she or Edith wanted anything from them, or they fromher, they did not scruple to make a call at each other"s houses beforeluncheon. These ladies and their husbands were invited, in theircapacity of friends, to eat a farewell dinner in honour of Edith"sapproaching marriage. Edith had rather objected to this arrangement, forCaptain Lennox was expected to arrive by a late train this very evening;but, although she was a spoiled child, she was too careless and idle tohave a very strong will of her own, and gave way when she found thather mother had absolutely ordered those extra delicacies of the seasonwhich are always supposed to be efficacious against immoderate griefat farewell dinners. She contented herself by leaning back in her chair,merely playing with the food on her plate, and looking grave andabsent; while all around her were enjoying the mots of Mr. Grey, thegentleman who always took the bottom of the table at Mrs. Shaw"sdinner parties, and asked Edith to give them some music in the drawing-room. Mr. Grey was particularly agreeable over this farewell dinner,and the gentlemen staid down stairs longer than usual. It was very wellthey did--to judge from the fragments of conversation which Margaretoverheard.
"I suffered too much myself; not that I was not extremely happy with thepoor dear General, but still disparity of age is a drawback; one that Iwas resolved Edith should not have to encounter. Of course, withoutany maternal partiality, I foresaw that the dear child was likely to marry early; indeed, I had often said that I was sure she would be marriedbefore she was nineteen. I had quite a prophetic feeling when CaptainLennox"--and here the voice dropped into a whisper, but Margaret couldeasily supply the blank. The course of true love in Edith"s case had runremarkably smooth. Mrs. Shaw had given way to the presentiment, asshe expressed it; and had rather urged on the marriage, although it wasbelow the expectations which many of Edith"s acquaintances hadformed for her, a young and pretty heiress. But Mrs. Shaw said that heronly child should marry for love,--and sighed emphatically, as if lovehad not been her motive for marrying the General. Mrs. Shaw enjoyedthe romance of the present engagement rather more than her daughter.
Not but that Edith was very thoroughly and properly in love; still shewould certainly have preferred a good house in Belgravia, to all thepicturesqueness of the life which Captain Lennox described at Corfu.
The very parts which made Margaret glow as she listened, Edithpretended to shiver and shudder at; partly for the pleasure she had inbeing coaxed out of her dislike by her fond lover, and partly becauseanything of a gipsy or make-shift life was really distasteful to her. Yethad any one come with a fine house, and a fine estate, and a fine title toboot, Edith would still have clung to Captain Lennox while thetemptation lasted; when it was over, it is possible she might have hadlittle qualms of ill-concealed regret that Captain Lennox could not haveunited in his person everything that was desirable. In this she was buther mother"s child; who, after deliberately marrying General Shaw withno warmer feeling than respect for his character and establishment, wasconstantly, though quietly, bemoaning her hard lot in being united toone whom she could not love.
"I have spared no expense in her trousseau," were the next wordsMargaret heard. "She has all the beautiful Indian shawls and scarfs theGeneral gave to me, but which I shall never wear again."
