Lady Cicely

“ Cicely was as proud and modest as any young lady, aye, and as beautiful too—a fine spirited lass, as you will see. It might have turned out well enough, only Sir John was so bent on making up the match between Walter and Mistress Joyce. So he told his son he must be ready on a certain day. Walter tried at first to put the matter off, and then it all came out that he and Cicely were already married by a begging friar. My master and her father were equally enraged—the marriage was pronounced null—poor Cicely was hurried away to a convent, and Walter warned that he must submit to his father. ”

“ Cicely shook her head. “I don’t think it is likely,” she replied. “I almost feel as if I were too old for anything of that kind again, do you know, aunt? Troubles make one feel old.”
“My Madame Gentille does not look old, and I am sure she has troubles,” observed Miss Eudoxie, who entered the room as Cicely was uttering her last sentence; “she has nice fat rosy cheeks, and her hair is not grey.”
“Whom is the child chattering about?” said Madame Casalis inquiringly.
“An English lady whom she has taken a fancy to,” said Cicely. ”

“ It is hardly worth while for you to get any more new dresses now.”
“No,” said Cicely quietly.
“What is Geneviève’s dress?” continued Lady Frederica, “tarletane?”
“No, tulle, tulle over—” Cicely was beginning, but just then Mr. Fawcett came up.
“Mother,” he said, “people are beginning to come. You mustn’t stay any longer gossiping in that corner, do you hear, my lady?” Lady Frederica laughed. “Impertinent boy!” she said, rising as she spoke. “Where shall I find you, Cicely?” continued Trevor, “We must be ready when the music begins, to set all the young people agoing. ”

“ Cicely hesitated a moment, then she took her letter out of its envelope again, and held it towards her mother. “You had better read what Lady Frederica says, mother; evidently Geneviève has been hurt by Trevor’s coldness.”
Mrs. Methvyn took the letter and read it. When she came to the postscript a smile stole over her face. “How stupid Frederica is sometimes,” she said complacently; “of course, poor Trevor was disappointed at finding Geneviève there, and not you, Cicely—quite enough to put him out, poor fellow!” ”

“ Then Geneviève said no more. Her head was in a whirl of feelings which she dared not express. She could scarcely credit her own happiness, she did not know if it were wicked of her to feel happy. She was afraid of seeming to pity Cicely, or even of expressing anything of the admiration and gratitude she could not but be conscious that her cousin deserved. So she sat beside her in silence, crying quietly, till after a time a new idea struck her.
“Cicely,” she said, “what will they all say? Sir Thomas and Lady Frederica, and my aunt. Will they not be very angry?” ”

“ I don’t want to see any one—not even, remember, Parker, not even Mr. Fawcett if he calls to-day.”
Parker gazed at her young lady in astonishment. “Not Mr. Trevor!” she exclaimed under her breath.
“No; I wish to seeno one,” repeated Cicely.
“There is never any telling how trouble will change people,” thought the old servant philosophically. “Poor Miss Cicely doesn’t hardly know how she feels yet; we must let her have her own way for awhile.” ”

“ Her eyes, as far as could be seen through her veil, were blazing; the redness in her cheeks had improved upon the rouge with which they were already touched; and the gesture with which she pulled on her gloves was one of excitement.
'Cicely dear—what is the matter with you?' said Miss Martin in distress. She was fond of Cicely, in spite of that young lady's extravagances of dress and manner, and she divined something gone wrong.
'Nothing is the matter—nothing at all. It is only necessary, sometimes, to shock people,' said Cicely, calming down. ”

“ Yes!" she whispered eagerly.
"And for the rest," he continued gently, "'tis well enow, for Colonel Lovelace to write that love be little if honour be not more, yet there may be a love so self-forgetting that a man counts himself as nothing in comparison with it, and would gladly give his dearest part, even his honour, to serve his beloved. 'Twas with such a love, Lady Cicely, you loved your cousin, and by Heaven! she is worthy of it." ”

“ Roden did not know upon that fascinating subject was negligible—“Cicely is ripe for the plucking.”
“You talk of her as if she were a goose,” he said.
“Pray don’t interrupt me! Cicely is a sensible girl, thank God! She is also a good girl, fully alive to the responsibilities of marriage. As a potential mother——”
Wilverley held up a hand.
“Don’t be obstetric, Mary, please.”
“What a word——! I am never that. However——! How you heckle my thoughts! I repeat, Cicely is ripe for the plucking. You have only to stretch forth your hand. Lady Selina will be much gratified if you call at once. ”

“ The carriage contained Sir Thomas and Lady Frederica, and just behind appeared another, loaded with luggage.
“Your belongings, Miss Casalis? Let me see—two boxes, a bag, etc. etc., four in all, my man will see to them. Good morning, Mrs. Methvyn; good morning, Cicely, my dear. We have no time to spare I fear,” exclaimed Sir Thomas fussily, as he got out of the carriage to superintend Geneviève’s getting in. “Oh! by the bye,” he added, coming back again for a moment, “we heard from Trevor this morning. Had you a letter, Cicely? No? That’s odd. He is an extraordinary fellow. ”

“ A stranger coming is quite different. And one must be civil to her, as she is a young lady,” grumbled Mr. Fawcett.
“And so very pretty,” added Cicely mischievously, but she did not succeed in making her cousin smile.
“It’s not comfortable,” he repeated.
“My dear Trevor, you are very cross. I assure you Geneviève is the last person to interfere with your comfort. She is only too timid and retiring,” remonstrated Cicely. ”

“ Quick, or you will lose sight of him. He is a handsome man, whoever he is. He is turning our way.”
Lady Forrester seemed quite excited.
“My dear Amy, what are you talking about?” said Cicely bewilderedly.
“The man who bowed to you just now, I want to know who he is. He must be a friend of yours; he keeps giving little glances to see if it’s any use for him to bow again. Now, Cicely, you must see him.”
Cicely looked up. This time she at once caught sight of the person her sister had been so perseveringly pointing out to her. A rather tall, dark man—handsome, Amiel had called him ”

“ Cicely was shaking hands now with little Lady Congreve, who had taken no part in the conversation, beyond giving occasional utterance to a faint ejaculation, or a timid laugh. "I hope we shall all have a very happy Christmas together at Bramwell. I will let you know, about trains. Till then, au revoir."
CHAPTER XVI. "MY MOTHER GAVE IT TO ME."
"Baba would like her doctor man to come to her Christmas-tree; Baba does love her doctor man." At the sound of the pleading voice, the sight of the appealing blue eyes, Cicely put down her pen with a laugh, and caught the child in her arms. ”

“ Cicely, whom he had been picturing to himself as to the full as unhappy as he, absent—away calmly and comfortably to play the Lady Bountiful in a dirty village with which she had nothing whatever to do—and—Temptation, seated at Cicely’s piano, learning the music he loved, glancing up in his face with sweetest smiles and eyes yet glistening with tears, called forth, he strongly suspected, by his folly.
A pleasant and promising state of things. Being a man, he did what in such circumstances most men would do. He blamed everybody but himself ”

“ Eve came in while Cicely was dressing.
“Eve, who is this person?” Cicely demanded, indicating the nurse with a sideward wave of her head.
“Oh, I’m just a lady’s maid—they thought you’d better have one; Porley, in that way, you know, isn’t good for much,” answered Mrs. Mile, readily.
“Whatever you are, I shall not need your services longer,” said Cicely. “Do you think you could go to-night?”
“Certainly, ma’am; by the evening boat.”
“There is no evening boat. I must have been ill a long while,—you talk in such a wheedling manner. ”

“ But Cicely kissed her and said:
“I shall enjoy my good time all the more when it does come, Mums.”
Lady Selina inclined her head mournfully. She entertained no delusions on that point. Procrastination did not enhance the virgin joys of “coming out.” Nevertheless, she confronted an abominable situation with fortitude, making no protest when Cicely insisted upon becoming a V.A.D. That meant the loss of more “bloom.” Balm descended upon her lacerated tissues, you may be sure, when Cicely went to Wilverley Court. If dear Arthur seized this great opportunity all would be well. ”

“ He’s gettin’ on in years is the old doctor.”
“Miss Cicely” again. A passing feeling of curiosity crossed Mr. Guildford’s mind as to whom she could be. A maiden sister or aunt perhaps of Colonel Methvyn’s, who managed his household and looked after his children. The name suggested a quaint old-fashioned maiden lady, and, so far, there had been no mention of a Mrs. Methvyn. “Miss Cicely” was evidently the ruling spirit of Greystone Abbey. ”

“ The reproach in her tone surprised Lady Forrester. She looked at Cicely with bewilderment in her bright brown eyes. “Not cordial,” she exclaimed, “I thought I was quite as cordial as there was any need to be. In fact, I did not quite understand what you said about his coming to see us; he is some friend of Trevor’s, I suppose? ”

“ I am sure Amy will be pleased if you will.”
She turned to her sister. Lady Forrester looked surprised, but replied smilingly, without hesitation and with only so very slight a touch of constraint in her voice that Cicely trusted Mr. Guildford would not detect its presence—“Certainly, Sir Herbert and I are always pleased to see any friend of my sister’s. I hope you will come to see us.”
Mr. Guildford bowed. “You are very kind,” he said, “but,” with a glance at Cicely, “as Miss Methvyn knows, I am not an idle man ”

“ Many close inquiries from the Earl and Countess were answered by Richard and the young lady, until they had a tolerably clear idea of the situation. The Countess wept bitterly, and to Cicely's great amazement began bemoaning herself that she was not still the poor lady's keeper. It was a shame to put her where there were no women to feel for her. Lady Shrewsbury had apparently forgotten that no one had been so virulent against the Queen as herself. ”

“ Guildford sympathisingly, “and you would feel it doubly on your daughter’s account.”
“Yes; she felt it a good deal, poor girl!” said Colonel Methvyn; “but young people, my dear sir, can throw off trouble—ah! yes, they can throw it off. It sinks deeper when one is no longer young.”
“But a mother,” said Mr. Guildford, a little surprised, “young or old, a mother’s feelings must be the same.”
“A mother?” repeated Colonel Methvyn. “Ah! I see. I forgot you did not understand the relationship. No, the little fellow’s mother is not my daughter. Lady Forrester is Mrs. ”

“ I did not feel half as anxious about Amiel’s future—long ago when you were both children and I used to look forward, as all mothers do, I suppose—as about yours. The position of a girl who is known to be an heiress is a very dangerous one.”
“But I have you and papa to take care of me and advise me,” persisted Cicely.
“Yes, but for how long? There is no good trying to deceive ourselves, my darling. Your father’s life is a very uncertain one, and—I can scarcely bear to say it to you, dear—but there are times when I can hardly picture myself as living without him. ”

“ Cicely is always so bright and interesting—a dear girl, and quite takes after her father."
"Dear Anne used to say that she took after her mother," said Aunt Laura; to which Aunt Ellen replied: "I have not a word to say against Nina; she has been a good wife to dear Edward, though we all thought at the time of their marriage that he might have looked higher. But compared with our nephew, quiet and unassuming as she is, she has very little character, while Cicely has character. No, sister, Cicely is a Clinton—a Clinton through and through." ”

“ There is a music-teacher who has the room across the hall from mine. She is at home this week with a cold on her lungs, and to-morrow, when I go to work, I am going to loan her all my beautiful roses. It's too bad to have them 'wasting their sweetness on the desert air' all day while I am gone. So she shall have them until I come home at night."
Madame Levaney gave no holiday to her employees on New Year's day, but Cicely did not care. She left her roses at Miss Waite's door with the announcement that they were hers for the day, but that she would have to call for them and claim them at night. ”

“ Cicely had thought a great deal since her visit to London and Muriel's wedding, and had arrived at this conclusion—that she was suffocating, and that her life was insupportable.
She raised her eyes and glanced at her father, wrapped in the pleasant slumber that overtakes healthy, out-of-door men when they are forced for a time into unwonted quiescence, and at her brother, calm and self-satisfied, dressed with a correct elaboration that was only unobtrusive because it was so expensively perfect. The men of the family—everything was done to bring them honour and gratification. ”

“ Every seamstress in the room bent forward with an exclamation of pleasure as the piece of dress-goods was unrolled. It was a soft, shimmering silk, whose creamy surface was covered [19] with rosebuds, as dainty and pink as if they had been blown across it from some June garden. Cicely caught her breath with a little gasp of delight, and thought again of the sweet face that had smiled on her. Miss Balfour would look like a rose herself in such a dress.
The next day Cicely saw the cutter at work on it, and then the forewoman distributed the various parts into different hands. ”