Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 2 (of 3) by Mrs. Alexander (fiction book recommendations txt) 📕

to offer, if you are not satisfied with Mr. Langley's opinion."

"Oh, yes; he is a very good judge."

"Perhaps you will let me hear you play," returned Mrs. Potter, sweeping off a mingled pile of silk merino and fringe, from a very antique piano.

"Of course," replied Kate, drawing off her gloves.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, shrinking back at the discordant tones, which her first touch drew forth. "This is rather out of tune, and has not got the additional keys; I could not play anything on this instrument."

[191]

"Well, there's the grand up-stairs," said Mrs. Potter, with more respect than her manner had yet testified, at this raising of difficulties on the part of Kate. "Come along, girls."

They ascended to the decorated apartment before described; and there, although she found the "grand rose-wood," as it was termed by the family, to be deplorably out of tune also, Kate performed a noisy introduction and march, which she guessed would be most likely to suit her auditors; a song was then demanded, and given; and mother and daughters exchanged glances, which said very plainly—"We've drawn a prize!"

"Well, I'm sure that's very nice," began Mrs. Potter. "I have no objection to engage you."

Then came the discussion of terms; the greatest trial poor Kate had yet encountered. It was so difficult to name her price, so hard[192] to bear the attempt to beat her down; yet all things must have an end; and, at length, she was finally engaged. Then, with what a feeling of relief she walked briskly on to meet Mrs. O'Toole, who was loitering about in waiting for her young mistress.

"How valuable poor Mr. Gilpin's hints have been to me," thought she; "what exquisite torture that whole interview would have been, had I not, by his advice, made up my mind to treat and think of the whole affair as a business transaction, which could not touch me really."

Nurse was less curious than usual—the subject was one that could only give her pain and grief, so she contented herself with Kate's general assurance that all was satisfactorily settled. The Colonel, notwithstanding all his consideration for his loving, self-forgetting child, could not suppress a groan, when he heard all the particulars she thought fit to give.

[193]

"Ah, dear Kate! what costs us so dear, brings but little into our exchequer."

"But I shall get more pupils, you know, and then—"

"Well, God's will be done!"

The lessons at Brompton began the next day; and Kate was surprised to find how rapidly the time flew in the endeavour to convey her own knowledge to her pupils; then the walk back, accompanied by Cormac, who lay outside the hall door, like a chiselled effigy of watchfulness, all the time the lesson lasted, was charming. The welcome from nurse and grandpapa! how grateful the task to work for them. "All I ask of Thee, oh Mighty Parent! is abundance of work!" she often murmured, almost aloud.

Thus cheered, she wrote in a strain of unwonted gaiety to Winter, promising him an account of Mrs. Storey's soir�e, at which nurse was determined her darling should appear in most recherch� costume; but, to her dismay,[194] the object of all this care, refused to appear in anything but "a demi-toilette."

"An' why won't ye show yer illigant white neck, an' arums, just to let them see what we've got in ould Ireland?"

"You see, it will be a small party, nurse; and, at all events, I would rather look too little, than too much, dressed; besides, it is of no consequence; yet, that is not quite true," she added, with a frank smile, "I should not like to look frightful."

So she had her own way, and wore the style of dress she preferred. Nurse produced a very handsome bouquet, just at the critical moment when the toilette was "un fait accompli," and Kate was thinking how unfinished her costume looked without what had hitherto been, with her, an invariable accompaniment.

"Oh, nurse, how lovely! and you have got these for me! Ah, you spoil your child! but I am so glad to have them! Now I am indeed mise a ravir; and shall value them a thou[195]sand times more as your gift, than if they were from—"

"The Captin?" put in Mrs. O'Toole, slily.

"Yes, far more," said Kate, and she spoke the truth, for the moment.

Some slight delay in procuring a cab, rendered their appearance at Mrs. Storey's later than they had intended, and her rooms were more than half full when they entered. There was the usual group of gentlemen near the door, conversing in under tones with each other; there was the same spare sprinkling of broad cloth, amongst the silks, satins, and muslins, seated stiffly round the walls, or rigidly enthroned on ottomans; the same half dozen of bolder spirits, more at home with the company than those about the door, amongst whom the facetious man, (for there is always such at third rate parties), shone conspicuous, entreating the ladies to teach him the language of flowers, or propounding far-fetched conun[196]drums, ending, invariably, with, "do you give it up?"

Tea and coffee was being handed round by two most respectable-looking men, whose faces seemed strangely familiar to Kate, until she remembered that she saw them almost daily, at the gate of Kensington Gardens, mounting guard over the Bath chairs, which they had there for hire; and young ladies were gently nibbling small squares of cake, and then depositing them in their saucers, as if ashamed of being guilty of so sublunary an occupation; in short, there was every thing that could possibly be expected at a soir�e of the class we are describing.

The appearance of Colonel Vernon, with his elegant-looking granddaughter, drew general attention; and a whisper of curiosity ran round the room, as each one felt, instinctively, there was something in the newly arrived guests, different from themselves. Miss Vernon advanced through the numerous company, to her[197] total strangers, with the quiet self-possession which so peculiarly distinguished her, and which had struck Egerton so forcibly, at the memorable ball, where they had first met. It was so different from the assured manner of a veteran society hunter, or the "look at me," air of a professed beauty, and seemed to say, "there is no position so lofty, where I should be out of place."

Mrs. Storey welcomed her new acquaintance with great warmth, advancing rapidly to meet them, with a huge bouquet held fiercely in her hand like a Lancer charging the foe.

"Very glad to see you, Miss Vernon, and your grandpa, looking so well—Mr. Storey, Colonel Vernon, Miss Vernon, &c."

Mr. Storey was a rubicund, jolly looking man, not yet absolutely fat, but promising well for the time to come; slightly bald, with small twinkling eyes, and an inveterate affection for the letter R; moreover, he constantly held his hands in his trowsers' pockets; laughed[198] often a fat laugh, had an unmistakeable air of prosperity, and was altogether what Mrs. Storey, called, "very good company."

"Happy to see you, Miss Vernon, happy to see you, sir; just a few friends, what my friend Jones calls a "tea fight," that's his interpretation of "a soir�e."

Langley here disengaged himself, rather abruptly, from a group of two or three bold, confident-looking girls, and pale dishevelled men, evidently artistic, to greet the Vernons, very warmly for him.

"Let me get you a seat, Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Storey, drawing Kate towards the group Mr. Langley had just left. "Sorry I was out when you called yesterday. Did you arrange with Mrs. Potter?"

"Yes, and I have to thank you and Mr. Langley for procuring me my first pupils."

"Oh, I was very glad."

"Miss Dent," said Mrs. Storey to one of the dashing looking young ladies, before mentioned,[199] "let me introduce Miss Vernon, you are both very musical; Miss Vernon plays beautifully, I am told; we hope to hear her farther on in the evening—Miss Charlotte Dent."

And Kate, to her dismay, was left to the tender mercies of these evidently "very fashionable," girls, who were, "en grande tenue," with the lowest cut dresses, and shortest sleeves permissible in society.

"Been long in town?" said the eldest, (after a deliberate survey of Miss Vernon's simple costume,) in a bold and rather deep toned voice.

Kate replied courteously, and turned to see what had become of the Colonel; he was engaged, apparently, in interesting conversation with Mr. Langley, and satisfied that he did not feel lonely, she gave her attention to the people round her.

"Were you ever in town before?" continued her examiner.

"Oh, yes, for some time, three years ago."

[200]

"Horrid place at this time of year. I am counting the days until I start for Germany."

Here one of Langley's dishevelled friends, from some change in the surrounding group (for the rooms were now almost crowded), suddenly stepped back, and in so doing, trod on Miss Vernon's dress; he begged pardon with much empressement, in a manner which bespoke him to be no common man; he was pale, thin and foreign-looking, with deep sunk, flashing eyes, wild hair, and an unsteady expression of countenance.

"I am always doing these sort of things, and have vowed a hundred times never to brave the dangers of a soir�e again; but," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Passato l'pericolo gabbato l'santo," said Kate, gaily and archly; judging from his air and manner, that this scrap of poor Winter's lore would be understood.

"La Signorina parla l'Italiano," he exclaimed, joyously.

[201]

"So little that I dare not venture to begin a conversation in it," she replied, as she did not consider it impossible to speak to a stranger without a formal introduction.

"Yet you pronounce it correctly," said the wild looking man.

"You think so?"

"Yes, and although it is not my native tongue, I love it, as if it were."

"So did the friend from whom I learned what little I know of it, and the proverb I have just said; yet no; not quite so well as his own tongue, for he was English."

"Your emphasis would imply that you think I am not, nor am I."

"Mr. Winter used to say——"

"Winter!" he interrupted, "is he the painter who has buried himself so strangely in some monastic tomb, some old city, "en Province?""

"The same."

[202]

"Then you are the young lady Langley spoke of?"

"Yes."

"Maraviglia!"

"Why are you surprised?" asked Kate, smiling.

He only repeated, "maraviglia!"

"Miss Dent, will you kindly play us something," said Mrs. Storey, sailing up, bouquet in hand.

"With pleasure, Mrs. Storey, but really you must send for my music, for Mr. Jones has been making me laugh so, I could not remember a note if I was to die for it; it is in the cloak room."

While Miss Dent was making numerous preparations for the proposed exhibition, Langley for the first time, left Vernon, and came over to Kate, who, feeling pleased to speak to her only acquaintance, at least of any standing, received him with a brilliant smile, making room for him beside her on the sofa, with her usual unpremeditated grace.

[203]

"I see my friend Galliard has made your acquaintance, Miss Vernon, without my assistance."

"Ah, out of evil cometh good, thanks to Mademoiselle!" said the man he called Galliard, gaily. "Tore her dress, she pardoned the penitent, and permitted him to speak, voil� tout."

A warning hus-sh-sh silenced him, and taking a large pinch of snuff, he assumed a critical air as Miss Dent struck a powerful blow on an unfortunate chord, and started off at a brisk gallop up the keys; her execution was really remarkable, and the music she performed full of physical difficulties; there were interminable shakes, and thundering chords; crossing of the hands and rushing from one extreme of the keys to the other; at last the performance, amid a crash of chords, came to a sudden end, upon which the talkers, startled at hearing their own voices, all at once, so loud, stopped too, and clapped their hands.

[204]

Miss Dent rose with a triumphant air, gathered together her gloves, fan and bouquet, and stood at the end of the "instrument," as Mrs. Storey called it, laughing and talking noisily, with the numerous beaux who surrounded her.

"Now, Miss Vernon, may I call upon you?" said the lady of the house, approaching.

Kate rose with a smile, and addressing Langley, in a low tone, said—

"Will you kindly stay with grandpapa, while I play, and do not let him come near me."

She took Mr. Storey's arm, as she spoke, and moved to the piano. Galliard and two or three more of Langley's friends followed, with every appearance of interest, very different from the degree of attention they bestowed on Miss Dent. Kate felt little or no nervousness; her trial and success, at Herman's, had set her mind at ease, and she at once began a very lovely Fantasia, composed by Gilpin, at her[205] request, and meant to convey the feeling of sweet peacefulness she had described to him, as often stealing over her heart, when, after the last notes of the evening service had scarce died away, she stood in the Priory church yard, where it overlooked the river, and saw its waters silvered by the moonbeams.

The music was of the Mendelssohn school, of which the organist was a great admirer, and Kate played it well; she knew every