CHAPTER CXXXI.
[Chapter 141]
A NEW CHARACTER. —MISS TWISSEL'S VISITOR. —THE INVITATIONS.
Nothing could exceed the smoothness and easiness of the course of things
in the wooing of Margaret Meredith; all things appeared so well ordered.
People were all of one mind; and it is needless to say that the young lady was
elated. She was elated, and we might not be out of the way in saying she was
elated overmuch, and knew not how to keep the exhibition of her joy within
proper bounds; she could not help showing she was to be the lady of a colonel.
Mrs. Meredith, too, was well pleased. What could she do but feel proud
at the change that was about to take place? She would go to watering places
in the summer, and remain in town during the winter; they would lead a very
fashionable life —they would be of the elite, and all their acquaintances
they would be compelled to cut, or, at the most, only speak to them when they
were unseen by any others.
It is astonishing how a change of circumstances produces a change in our
habits and feelings; how it happens that those who were considered respectable
acquaintances suddenly become the objects of our aversion, and we begin to
devise all sorts of methods for evading recognition, or of speaking to them
when we can avoid it.
This arises merely from the change in one's circumstances, which causes
us to look for something much beyond what we have been used to; but,
unfortunately, it brings ingratitude often in the train of its consequents.
"My dear," said Mrs. Meredith to her daughter Margaret, "we really cannot
know the people at the corner house over the way, who invited us to their
parties."
"Oh, dear, no, we cannot think of it; but we must get rid of them the
best way we can. You see they will not be quite the thing for us when we come
to have our change of circumstances, you may depend upon it; it will become
necessary to weed one's acquaintance."
"Yes, that must be done." said Mrs. Meredith.
"And the sooner we set about it the better; for the more intimate we
continue now, the more trouble will there be of getting rid of them
afterwards."
"Certainly; we need not accept of their invitation for to-night."
"Oh, dear, no; I have dismissed the whole affair from my mind, and there
is no need even of thinking of it any more. I shall not even think of sending
them an answer; the consequence will be, they will be angry, and expect we
shall go and apologise, and when they find we don't, but that we try to get
rid of them, they will be baffled, and the whole affair is settled."
"That is a very good plan, my dear. Then, you know, there are the
Morgans; we must positively get rid of them. It will never do to have those
young men hanging about; the colonel would do something dreadful, to say the
least of it. Why, he would shoot them, and perhaps have a separation, who
knows?"
"But then I should be entitled to a maintenance."
"You would, my dear; but unfortunately you well know you have no
property, an that, added to an early separation, would put it in his power to
offer you and compel your acceptance of a very small sum, which he may pay as
he pleases—weekly, monthly, or quarterly."
"I see, ma; but we will run no risk of that kind of thing. Moreover,
there would be those girls, they would be a nuisance hanging about the
colonel."
"No doubt, and the cause of unhappiness in the extreme. Better to leave
all such people; you are a great deal better without them. Why, I tell you
what, you will be at no loss of company or acquaintances, you will find they
will be sure to spring up; property is sure to enable you to choose those whom
you will have, and whom you will not—the reason is obvious enough.
Moreover, like loves like, you know, and people with means soon find out
people who have none."
"Yes, ma, and those who have plenty; besides, a colonel, and a man of
rank and standing—and everybody knows that a colonel in the India service is
a rich man—and that would bring us all into the best of society. Only think
of my going to Bath, Bristol, and Brighton, in their seasons. Of course we
couldn't keep company with people who can't afford to go to some fashionable
place at least once in a year."
"Oh, dear, no; certainly not, my dear; but there is no need of our
troubling ourselves about that matter; we shall only go when the colonel goes,
and we shan't be seen without him, and he'll be a constraint upon them; and,
therefore, where they find themselves uncomfortable, they will not come
again."
"That will be a very good plan, for it will appear as their own faults;
but, at the same time, I do not trust to that upon all occasions; it might
fail, and then we should have to take some unpleasant steps to get rid of
them, which is certainly easily done, but unpleasant."
Yes, yes, certainly," replied the mother; and then suddenly, as a knock
and ring came upon the door, Margaret said, "Dear me, who is that? —I hope
none of these people whom I have been speaking about—it will be a dreadful
nuisance to all; especially when I am to be married in three days more."
"You needn't be seen, Margaret; I'll see them."
"Do, ma; and I'll go up stairs. But let's hear who it is first, who
comes today."
At that moment she heard the door open, and her own name pronounced, and
at once knew the speaker, and she said to her mother, —
"Oh, ma, 'tis Miss Twissel, my bridesmaid; what an infliction! but, then,
I must see her. She has come, I suppose, to consult me about some new gown,
or the way in which she and her friend will have their hair done up on the
occasion—nothing more important, I dare say."
"Very well, my dear; they had better come in—send them in pray," she
added to the servant. "Oh, Miss Twissel, how glad we are to see you."
"Now, really," said Miss Twissel; "how kind you are, for I am sure you
speak the truth. Oh, Margaret, don't you feel all of a flutter?"
"I don't, indeed; I am very comfortable. I hope you are all quite well—
don't put yourself out of the way on this occasion; you need not, I assure
you."
"Oh, I have got my pa to give us new gowns, and some lace; but I did not
mean to tell you that—I and Martha had agreed that that should be a secret
between us; that we should not say anything about it to any one; but surprise
you on your wedding morning."
"Ah, you have been at a great deal of trouble and expense about this
affair, I am sure. You really must not think I wish you to do all this; I
really don't know how to scold you enough, for I shall be dressed very plainly
indeed."
"Oh, but then you are the bride—we ain't, you know, and that makes the
difference; besides which, we have a visitor come up to London to see us."
"Indeed! some young gentleman, I suppose, whose heart you want to run
away with, and so have another wedding, and upon your own account this time;
and, perhaps, you are helping Miss Martha to a husband. What is he—a
physician or a divine?"
"Neither—but, I will tell you, he is only an old man."
"An old man! What a sweetheart you have chosen, to be sure! but, I dare
say you have your reason as well as other people. But have you know him
long?"
"No, we haven't done so; but, the fact is, pa' and he have had some
business together, and they are very much in each others company. He's a man,
however, of great rank, though a very odd man to talk to, I assure you, but a
man of rank and property."
"Indeed! Oh, tell me what he is—a lord?"
"Well, he is not much short of it; and he is higher than a great many
lords, I assure you. Why, he's no less than an admiral—only, I wasn't to
say anything about it."
"Oh, will he be with you when my marriage takes place?"
"Yes, he will; and I wanted to know, as he will be much with my father,
and as a visitor, shall we be intruding to bring him here to grace your
wedding?"
"Oh, yes; by all means," said Margaret, who thought he presence of an old
man could in no way interfere with any of her schemes; besides, a man of rank,
such as an admiral, would greatly increase the noise of her marriage. Indeed,
here was probably a new acquaintance with whom she could be intimate; besides,
it was some one of consequence on her side that the great man was to come, and
would, she thought, add some lustre to herself.
"Well, then, I would not ask him until I had seen you, because it might
turn out you would be displeased; and, as I have not done so, I cannot tell
you whether he will come or not. He's a strange man, and I won't ask him
until the night before."
"Very well; we shall be quite happy to see him. I dare say he'll come,
if you tell him who's going to be married. Indeed, if he's likely to come,
I'll invite a few friends to meet him; but I won't say anything to anybody
about it."
"No; let it be a surprise to them all; and let nobody know whom they are
going to meet."
"That will be delightful, certainly—very delightful. What a surprise
it will be to them to be introduced to colonel this and admrial that. I
declare I long for the day on account of the confusion that some persons will
be in."
"I must now bid your good bye; for I've got to call upon my dressmaker,
to give her some orders."
"You will stop and take tea with us? Surely you won't run away."
"Oh, but I must," said Miss Twissel, and so said Miss Martha, and after
much pressing and refusing, they parted, and left Margaret filled by other
thoughts than those she had so recently held.
"Ma',["] said she, after a long pause, "do you know what I have been
thinking of?"
"No, my dear, I do not."
"Well, then, it is this, that after all, we may as well make a bit of a
figure for the last time. That we will have some friends who will figure upon
that occasion and no other."
"What makes you think so, my dear Margaret?"
"Why, you see, ma', we are likely to have a distinguished visitor, and we
may as well have as many as we can; their number and dresses will look well,
and as we shall leave town immediately, I don't see that we shall be at any
future time annoyed by their visits. Indeed, it will be retiring from their
society after giving them a feast."
"Well, to be sure, I never thought of that," said her mother —"I never
thought of it. What shall we do now—how can we provide for so many?"
"Send an order to a pastry cook to provide breakfast for so many, whether
they come or not, and then we need trouble ourselves very little about giving
them time. If we tell them about the day before, they will have all in
readiness for us."
"Well, well—and as for the expense, it will be of no consequence."
"None," said Margaret. "I shall be able to pay that and others, if we
owe any. But now comes the job of inviting visitors, and we must only invite
those who will make up a show, dress well, and pass off on the occasion for
fashionable people."
"Oh, as for that, there are many people who never had a penny in their
lives to call their own, may be very fashionable-looking people, and pass for
men of a thousand a year, to say nothing of a lord looking like a workman, and
the like, which is common enough."
"Then we'll settle it at that point, ma', and you had better superintend
the invitations and the other affair—the breakfast, I mean."
"Very well, my dear; you know that I have no objection. I have seen such
occasions before, and I well know what they ought to be; therefore you may
safely rely upon my judgment in such an affair as that at least.["]
"And about the selection of friends—visitors, I mean."
"That you may also leave to me," said Mrs. Meredith; "and, depend upon
it, I will not invite one party whom we shall have cause to say we are sorry
they came; though, you know, every allowance would be made for them by the
colonel or admiral, if he come. By the way, I would not tell the colonel a
word about it, for sometimes the land service hates the sea service, and the
latter often laugh at the former; so it will be safest to say nothing."
"No, ma, I won't—I didn't intend to do so."
Thus both mother and daughter had suddenly changed their views of what
was to take place on the day of the intended marriage. They were now resolved
they would have as many of their old friends as they could get together upon
the occasion, to cause the affair to go off with all the eclat that it was
possible; it would be the last ball of the season —that is, it would be the
last she ever intended to give them, and that would be the last occasion upon
which they would meet.
Her respect for Miss Twissel was augmented by the knowledge that she had
an admiral for a friend or a visitor, it didn't matter which. Who could tell
what might happen? Mightn't Miss Twissel marry an admiral, as ugly as she
was, as well as she should a colonel? but there were many reasons why she
should. She, too, might have had some means of entangling his heart; perhaps,
after all, she only came there with him for the purpose of showing him off.
"At all events," said Margaret, to herself; "at all events, he is one
that we can keep on terms with; and it will look well to be acquainted with
some person of rank. I am, at all events, well pleased it has happened as it
has."
Mrs. Meredith, on the other hand, appeared to think her daughter's
marriage with a colonel, ought to be celebrated by no common rejoicings; that,
indeed, the marriage ought to go off with as much disturbance to the whole
neighbourhood, as it was possible to make.
This could not bet better effected than in the manner we have referred
to; namely, inviting a number of persons to come and be present at the
ceremony, and to take a late breakfast, and to wish the bride joy, to see her
depart, and then to lose sight of her, as she hoped, for ever.
This purpose Mrs. Meredith ably carried out, and she succeeded in
inviting about two or three-and-twenty persons together; and any person who
had a carriage and would come in it, was sure of an invitation —that was a
passport to the marriage feast.
"Well," she muttered to herself, as she reckoned up the number of persons
whom she expected to be present upon the occasion —"well, I don't think I
have omitted any one who ought to be present, nor have I invited any one who
ought not to be here. I shall have a busy day of it—very busy day; but the
result is everything; so long as the marriage takes place, and we are really
married to an East Indian colonel, why we shall do, there can be no doubt of
it."
This was a consolatory reflection. There was but little else, indeed,
that could be done—little, indeed. The cook had the orders for the
entertainment the next day; they had but little to do in the household with
that; indeed, they had extra hands, lest there should be any need of them, as
she would not have anything go wrong upon such an occasion, for worlds.
But there was one thing that gave her some satisfaction, and that was,
Mr. Twissel had not been to them lately to give any doubtful counsels; ever
since she had announced her intention of permitting the marriage to take
place, he had not been to express any doubts about the matter; but had been a
mere spectator, doing all that was necessary. He had forgotten all objection,
and never made one. He was perfectly quiescent; but would now and then look
very hard at the colonel, but that was all; he never discovered anything, and
all was smooth and pleasant.
—