University of Virginia Library

30. CHAPTER XXX.
WHAT WAS TAKING PLACE IN JUDGE BLAND'S STUDY.

As the friends approached Blandfield, two members of the household
there were engaged in animated conversation; and this conversation
had direct reference, as will be seen, to Justin Harley.

The two persons were Miss Clementina and Judge Bland, and
the place was the study of the master of the mansion, a small
apartment in the third story.

Judge Bland had gone up to his sanctum, carrying a cup of tea
in his hand, to study an important legal “record.” Before doing
so he had supped, and before supping he had gone through a
kindly and affectionate ceremony, which conveyed so clear an idea
of his amiable and courtly disposition that it will be briefly described.
Courtesy was with Judge Bland a natural instinct; and
he had always through life carried out his own principle, that
“true politeness was founded on benevolence,” and a sedulous
regard for the happiness of all around us. He treated his family
with unvarying sweetness, and, it may be added, courtly respect;
and his deportment toward Mrs. Bland, his wife, had been the
same when she was a gray-haired invalid as when she was a
blooming young bride. For the suffering invalid as for the little
beauty he had kept his sweetest smiles and his courtliest bows. He
would suffer no one but himself to wait upon her, and invariably
prepared her meals with his own hands, selecting the choicest
parts of every dish; and then when the waiter was filled, he took
it with his own hands to his “beloved Marie,” and was made
happy if she seemed to relish her meal. It was a beautiful sight to
see this gray-haired and stately gentleman—to whom all, high and
low, took off their hats—forgetting himself entirely, and dedicating
himself with a tenderness which no lover could have surpassed to
the comfort of the poor invalid.

And when Mrs. Bland died, the unhappy husband, after mourning
for her as few mourn, seemed to miss the object of these lifelong
attentions most when the moment came to take her meals to
her. He would say grace—every one would sit down; but the old
judge would look around him for his body-servant, gray-haired
like himself, who had been accustomed to bring the silver waiter.

The old servant, standing respectfully behind him, would only look
grave and sorrowful. Then the poor husband would utter a weary
sigh, seat himself at the table, and scarcely touch the food which
he looked at through a sort of mist. At last, he found some consolation;
this was to wait upon his mother, the aged Mrs. Bland,
who began to keep her chamber. He returned to his former
habit—carried his mother's meals to her as he had carried his
wife's—and on this evening he had just performed the ceremony in
question, finished his own supper, and gone with a cup of tea in his
hand to his study—a plain, rather digny little apartment, with
tables covered with papers, and shelves filled with dusty law volumes—when
the door opened and Miss Clementina came into the
room.

Miss Clementina was waving her fan in a somewhat agitated
manner, and a little tremor might have been observed in the ribbons
decorating her head-dress. She had been all day reflecting
upon the interview which was about to take place. She considered
it her bounden duty to act with decision; and let it be said here,
in order that the character and motives of Miss Clementina may
not be misunderstood, that she was actuated by the very best motives,
and not in the least by a love of tattle or a desire to interfere.
Tattle was dear to her, but she had not come to indulge her
favorite propensity. On that morning she had been put in possession
of certain reports which caused her great uneasiness, and as
these reports, and their origin, were mentioned in the conversation
which ensued, we shall proceed at once to the said conversation.

“Good evening, my dear,” said Judge Bland, who, although he
had just parted from Miss Clementina, proceeded thus to do the
honors of his sanctum.

“Are you very busy, brother?” said Miss Clementina.

“Oh no,” said the polite judge; “do you wish to see me? Sit
down, my dear.”

“I do wish to have a few moments' talk with you, brother, and
on a painful subject.

“A painful subject?”

“Very painful.”

And the lady took the seat on the opposite side of the fireplace,
on whose iron andirons a few sticks were blazing cheerfully. On
the long table, covered with green stuff, two candles were keeping
watch over a chaos of law-papers.

“I wish to speak of Evelyn, brother, and—of Mr. Harley.”

“Mr. Harley, my dear.”

“It is very disagreeable to me to have to do so, but I really think
it is my duty. Evelyn is so young and inexperienced, that her

friends should see that she is not deceived, and I very much fear
that, from the course things are now taking, our dear child is
about to lay up in store for herself an amount of trouble which she
never dreamed of.”

Judge Bland was aware of Miss Clementina's propensity to indulge
in mysterious innuendoes and significant hints. He was accustomed
to listen, with his polite smile, on such occasions, waiting
for some distinct announcement of the lady's meaning. He
adopted this course on the present occasion. Leaning back in his
large arm-chair, resting his elbows on the cushioned arms, and
joining the points of the fingers of his right hand with the points
of the fingers of his left, he smiled, remained calm, and waited.

Seeing that her auditor was in an attentive state of mind, Miss
Clementina agitated her fan, and flowed on.

“I fear that Evelyn is becoming interested in Mr. Harley.”

“Ah?—in Mr. Harley?”

“Yes, brother; and I need not say that I do not mention this
in any spirit of gossip.”

“I am sure I can acquit you of that, my dear sister.”

“I love our little Evelyn dearly, and these things are always best
looked straight in the face, and—where there is an objection—met
at once. You agree with me, do you not, brother?”

“Assuredly, sister. What you say is full of good sense. But
you must convince me of two things.”

And the judge smiled benevolently.

“What two things, brother?”

“First, that Evelyn is interested, as you say, in Mr. Harley—you
mean, of course, Justin Harley?”

“Yes.”

“And, secondly, that there is something objectionable in that
fact—some reason why she should not regard Mr. Harley with
such interest.”

“Well, brother, I must content myself with merely stating my
conviction as to the first point. I would not like to be more explicit,
for it seems like spying and betraying confidence—though
there is none. I am sure Evelyn is very much interested in Mr.
Harley, who certainly began his acquaintance with her under circumstances
calculated to prejudice a young lady in a gentleman's
favor. He saved her life, and she is naturally and properly grateful.”

“Yes.”

“And she is beginning to regard him with something more than
friendship, I think.”

“Do you think so?—but, the objection to Mr. Harley?”

Miss Clementina was on firm ground again. She assumed a
guarded expression of countenance, drew her chair a little closer,
and said, in a low tone,

“Brother, are you sure that Mr. Harley is not—married? I have
reasons to fear so. Indeed, I am wellnigh convinced that such is
the fact, from something which has just come to my knowledge.”