The Semi-detached House/Chapter 20
CHAPTER XX.
Mrs. Hopkinson was now released from her attendance on Blanche, to whom she had endeared herself by her unwearied kindness, and who looked up to her as a miracle of wisdom on the subject of babies in general, and this valuable baby in particular. As a proof that tact, which is only another name for consideration of the feelings of others, is compatible with unpolished manner, it may be mentioned that Mrs. Hopkinson and the nurse parted without having had one dissension; and even with an admission on the part of Mrs. Smith, "that that good lady knew very well what she was about, and that, considering how delicate Lady Chester was, and how little she knew about a nursery, it was quite a mercy she had Mrs. Hopkinson to look after her."
Lord Chesterton had informed Blanche that, by a happy coincidence, the living of Chesford, their own parish, had become vacant, a very few days after she had intimated to him her wishes for Mr. Greydon; and it was decided between them, that on the important occasion of Albert Victor Chester's christening, Blanche should have the pleasure of announcing to Mr. Greydon his preferment.
She had now re-established herself on her sofa in the garden, and the old Pleasance habits were resumed. Janet and Rose were often asked to sit with her. Mr. Harcourt and his outrigger were again skimming on the surface, and floating about Rose; Mr. Greydon either had some excuse for calling on Arthur, or called without any excuse at all, except the old hacknied one of 'the fatality,' and by his manner to Janet, Blanche was led to the comfortable conviction, that by giving Mr. Greydon this living, she should at once provide her village with an unexceptionable pastor, and pay off some of her debt of gratitude to the Hopkinson family.
The Sampsons continued to give their elaborate dinners, and their gorgeous déjeuners, and it almost appeared as if the Court Journal kept a special Sampson correspondent, so numerous were the paragraphs devoted to the sayings and doings, and givings and receivings of the Baroness. The Baron was more bland, more prosperous, and more superbly humble than ever; but it is to be hoped that the Baroness' guests derived more enjoyment from her hospitalities than she did, for she was constantly either irritable and dejected, or in a state of nervous high spirits, and she looked so ill, that Rachel suggested to her to have some medical advice.
"I cannot think what you mean," said her Aunt peevishly, "I am sure with all my parties and fêtes, and all the luxuries that surround me, it would be strange if I wanted to complain to a doctor; what do you suppose ails me, Rachel?"
"That is what I want to know, Aunt Rebecca, you do not look well, and perhaps Dr. Ayscough—"
"Oh, don't talk to me of Dr. Ayscough, he really is too trying, never attaching the slightest importance to any of my symptoms, nor, in fact, to anything I say."
"Well, Mr. Duckett is reckoned clever, and is close at hand, and he has been attending Lady Chester."
"Oh, thank you, I am not going to trust my health to a country apothecary. It is all very well for the Chesters, who are, I suppose, as poor as rats while Lord Chesterton lives. I think, with all our wealth, I might afford to see a physician."
"Can I write to any one for you? those nervous headaches—"
"I really must beg, Rachel, you will not take these strange fancies. What can make me nervous? me, who am notorious for high spirits!" whereupon the Baroness burst into tears, and became almost hysterical. Rachel quietly administered all the usual remedies, and then in silence began arranging some flowers.
"Well," said the Baroness, "I must say you take things coolly. Having brought on this attack; you might as well send for assistance. I suppose you had better write and ask Dr. Ayscough to drive down here, for I must be quite myself on Wednesday. That will be the last and the best of our parties," she said with a ghastly smile.
And so the physician was summoned, and was received by the Baroness, with all her accustomed graces, which, generally were completely thrown away upon him; but to-day he seemed to study her looks with attention and to bear her rambling statements with unusual patience.
"I really have nothing to tell you, my dear Sir, just a little headache—you know what a sensitive creature I am, and I think the wind is in the East. I always feel an East wind jusqu'au bout des doigts, and I have been overdoing my gaieties. I want rest, and change of air. The Baron is taking a splendid moor. Would the Highlands suit me?"
"Is the Baron thinking of going soon?"
"Oh, almost immediately," she said with some hesitation. "He talks of making a run down to Scotland to see the place before he buys it, and I am almost afraid he will not be here to receive his friends next Wednesday—the 12th of August is near at hand."
"And so you are making preparations for a start, eh? And Baron Sampson will give his friends the slip on Wednesday," and Dr. Ayscough felt the pulse in his hand give a sudden bound. "Well, I do not see that the journey would do you any harm, and change of air and scene would do you good. You are nervous."
"No, I am not; I cannot think what possesses everybody to suspect me of nerves. What reason upon earth can I have for being nervous?"
"That you must tell me," he said, "I can only assert the fact; and I am not bound to furnish reasons for the illnesses of you London fine ladies."
The Baroness was so charmed at finding herself classed by this fashionable physician with the fine ladies of the day, that she rallied; and while Dr. Ayscough was writing her prescription, tried a little light talk on the subject of the Chesters—pitied them for the privations that the poverty, with which she chose to endow them, imposed upon them—she believed Lady Chester sent for the village apothecary when she was taken ill, and depended for a nurse on the good offices of a Mrs. Hopkins, or some name of that kind, a neighbour. "To be sure, young people are right not to run into debt; but I cannot fancy putting up with anything second rate myself, indeed the Baron would not hear it from me, he always says, 'Nothing second rate for you, Baroness, whatever money can buy, you can have, only let it be the best.'"
"Well, if money can buy a Mrs. Hopkinson," said Dr. Ayscough, drily, "it can do more than I have ever supposed. Mrs. Hopkinson has been a valuable friend to Lady Chester, who required constant and great care for ten days; and now there are those pleasing young girls to amuse her, and sing to her during her convalescence. They must be pleasant neighbours for you, Baroness,"
"Oh dear! I am much too insignificant a person for the Miss Hopkinsons to notice. Nothing but Duchesses and Viscountesses will satisfy them! I would have brought them out at my déjeuners, out of mere good-nature. However, they are not worth talking of. Tell me some news, Dr. Ayscough, you always hear the last London reports."
"Unluckily, I have been out of town most part of the day, so I cannot give you any gossip. There are two more great failures in the city. I wonder where these smashes will end."
"Two more!" said the Baroness faintly, "do you recollect their names? not that I should be much the wiser, if you told me," she added with a forced laugh, "The Baron happily is quite independant of all these speculators."
"Corban's house was one, I know."
The Baroness turned pale. "The other, I forget, but I heard it was connected with the Corbans."
"Ah, indeed! Well your time is so valuable, I must not detain you, in fact it was absurd to trouble you, I am so well." She sank back in her chair, almost fainting.
Dr. Ayscough waited a few minutes, and then said kindly. "You have something weighing on your mind." She shook her head, but her colour was livid, and the hand she held out to him trembled.
"Would it be a relief to you, to tell me what you apprehend? You cannot suppose that your confidence would be betrayed."
She looked fixedly at him, and the tears stood in her eyes; but suddenly she seemed by a strong effort to calm herself, and with a laugh that was more distressing than her tears, she said, "This is really too good, what apprehensions can I have? except perhaps that we may have rain on Wednesday, and that all my fireworks may fail. Good morning, I suppose it is impossible to prevail on you, to honour our festivities with your presence,"
"Quite impossible," he said. "Good morning."
"I always thought that Baron a very plausible rascal," was his reflection as he got into the carriage, "and now I am sure of it. He will be off before Wednesday, and she will brazen it out to the last."
After the Doctor's departure, the Baroness told Rachel that he had quite laughed at the notion of her being nervous, and considered her perfectly capable of a journey to the Highlands, and that he had recommended to her to take her usual airing. So, as she should probably be off to Scotland in a few days, she thought of driving up to town, and depositing her diamonds and trinkets at the banking house; and at the same time she could give directions for packing up whatever she might want at Lochingar. "I am afraid the house is small for our establishment, and I almost doubt, my dear Rachel, whether you will be lodged so well as we could wish."
"Thank you, Aunt Rebecca, do not trouble yourself about me; I have always intended to tell you that whenever you leave this villa, I mean, as shopkeepers say, to set up for myself. I am much obliged to you and to my Uncle for—" Rachel hesitated, she knew that the very large allowance made for her during her minority had more than saved her from any pecuniary obligation, and she had met with no affection. However, she added, "for the home you have given me, and now I must try what I can do for myself."
"And will such a very independant young lady condescend to impart her plans for the future? I should have thought I might have been consulted si ce n'était que pour la forme," said the Baroness, who, however willing and anxious to get rid of a niece who was younger and handsomer than herself, and addicted to speaking plain truths, was yet piqued by the ease with which their acquaintance was dissolved.
"I am thinking of going to the sea-side in the first instance. My old governess will be glad to pass the holidays with me, and that little delicate boy of Mr. Willis's is advised to try sea-bathing—so, if the Hopkinsons will let me have him, he will go too."
"Upon my word, this is extremely flattering to the melancholy Jaques, as you chose to nickname my friend Mr. Willis. Well, nothing in this world surprises me; but I must say, that after being accustomed to the society of Moses, with his wit and vivacity and air of fashion," (poor dear Moses, with his vulgar jokes, and flashy appearance) "I can hardly understand this preference of that gloomy man. Not that Moses is a marrying man. Don't go and fancy that, and I am sure Willis is much too devoted to the memory of his first wife to think of a second, so you have no chance there."
"How distressing!" said Rachel, "but it will be interesting to sit on the rock and pine for either or both of them.
"Aunt Rebecca.
A miserable life of this poor picture."
Rachel knew that a good strong quotation always drove the Baroness out of the field, and her vivid delineation of Aspasia's misery had the desired effect. The Baroness was mystified into silence, and left the room merely saying, "Well, Moses is not likely to trouble you, at all events,"
"No, I suppose not, after what I said to him last week," said Rachel, who knew from her cousin, that his mother had urged him to weary her with constant proposals; and so they parted.
"Oh dear! how unamiable I am when I am with my uncle and aunt," thought Rachel, "thoroughly detestable I may say, and yet when I am with those girls, or little Charlie, I can be as good as gold, and so tame that that baby can lead me; I do believe evil qualities are more catching than measles."