“I am very glad to see you, Miss Trent,” she said, “because I fancy you can perhaps answer a question which is teasing me a good deal.” She smiled. “Rather an odd question, you may think—but I know I may depend upon your discretion.”
“Certainly you may, ma’am.”
Mrs Chartley hesitated. “Yes. If I did not—Miss Trent, I find myself in a quandary! I daresay you are aware that Lord Lindeth is growing extremely particular in his attentions to Patience?”
“I wasn’t aware of it, ma’am. I have been constantly with Charlotte, you know. But I am not at all surprised. He always liked her, and I have frequently thought that he and Miss Chartley might have been made for one another. I hope you don’t dislike it? I have a great regard for Lord Lindeth—as far as I know him—and I believe him to be really worthy of Miss Chartley.”
“No. No, I don’t dislike it—though I own to some feelings of doubt at the outset. He appeared to me to be violently in love with Tiffany, which argues a volatility I cannot like.”
“I had rather say that he was dazzled by her, as so many have been. He might have loved her if her disposition had matched her face, which, alas, it does not! You are thinking that the change in his sentiments was very sudden, but I fancy he began to be disillusioned quite early in their acquaintance. There were several occasions when—But I should not be talking of them!”
“You need not scruple to speak frankly: if her conduct at Leeds is anything to judge by, I can readily understand Lindeth’s disillusionment. But to turn so soon from Tiffany to Patience does disquiet me! The Rector, however, sets very little store by it. Indeed, he seems to think it perfectly natural that a young man, when he is ripe for falling in love (as he puts it), should transfer his affection to another, when he finds he has mistaken his own heart. It seems very odd to me, but I am well aware, of course, that men are odd, even the best of them!”
“And Miss Chartley, ma’am?” Ancilla said, smiling.
“I am very much afraid that she is in danger of forming a lasting attachment,” replied Mrs Chartley, with a sigh. “She is not volatile, you know, and if he were again to discover that he had mistaken his heart—”
“Forgive me!” Ancilla interposed. “I collect that you believe Lindeth to be fickle. But I have been a great deal in his company, and I have had the opportunity to observe his infatuation. AsIhave said, it might have deepened into love,but it never did so. And—I do assure you, ma’am, that it would have been wonderful indeed if an ardent young man, having at that time formed no real attachment, had not succumbed to Tiffany’s beauty, and to the encouragement he received from her.”
Mrs Chartley’s face lightened a little. “So the Rector says. I own, there is no infatuation in question now. I don’t leave them alone together, I need hardly say, but even if I allowed my daughter the license Tiffany has I am persuaded Lindeth would not flirt with her. Indeed, I have been agreeably surprised in him! Under the gaiety which makes his manners so taking, there is a strong vein of seriousness. He feels as he ought on all important subjects, and the tone of his mind is particularly nice.”
“But in spite of this you do not wish for the connection, ma’am?” Ancilla asked, a little puzzled.
“My dear, a very strange creature I should be if I did not wish for such an advantageous connection for my daughter! If he is sincere, nothing would please me more than to see her so well-established. But although they are not unequal in birth they are unequal in consequence. Nor is Patience an heiress. She will have some four thousand pounds, but that, though it is a respectable portion, might be thought paltry by Lindeth’s family. From things he has let fall, about disliking ton parties, and being the despair of his mother—in his funning way, you know!—I suspect that the family wish him to make what is called a brilliant marriage, and might be strongly opposed to his marriage to a country clergyman’s daughter.” She paused, and rather aimlessly shifted the position of a book lying on the table at her elbow. “I had fancied that Sir Waldo had been his guardian, but I understand this was not the case. At the same time, there can be no doubt that he has stood in much that position. Nor that his influence over Lindeth is great. That, my dear Miss Trent, is why I have been anxious to have the opportunity of talking to you. If there is any fear that Sir Waldo might exert himself to prevent the marriage—even if he should merely dislike it—I would not upon any account continue to permit Lindeth to visit us as he now does. Neither the Rector nor I would countenance the alliance if it had not the approbation of Lindeth’s family. You will understand, I am persuaded, why I am in a quandary, and why I made up my mind to admit you into my confidence. Tell me! What are Sir Waldo’s sentiments upon this occasion?”
Miss Trent felt her colour rising, but she responded in a steady voice: “I am honoured by your confidence, ma’am, but Sir Waldo has not taken me into his. I wish I might be able to help you, but it is not in my power.”
Mrs Chartley raised her eyes, directing a slightly sceptical look at her. “If that is so, there is no more to be said, of course. I ventured to put the question to you because I know you to be far better acquainted with him than anyone else in the district.”
There was silence for a few moments. Then Miss Trent drew a breath, and said: “I have been obliged to be a good deal in his company, ma’am, but I do not stand upon such intimate terms with him as—as you seem to suggest.” She managed to smile. “My sins have found me out! I allowed myself to be persuaded to accept Lady Colebatch’s invitation, and was imprudent enough to waltz with Sir Waldo, twice. I have been made to regret it. I’m afraid the pleasure of dancing again, after such a long time, went to my head!”
Mrs Chartley’s face softened; she leaned forward, and briefly clasped one of Ancilla’s hands. “No wonder! I perfectly understand. But—My dear, will you permit me to speak frankly to you? You are a young woman, in spite of your sober ways! And you have not your mama at hand to advise you, have you? I am most sincerely fond of you, so you must forgive me if I seem to you to take too much upon myself. I have been feeling a little anxious about you, for I’m afraid you may be cherishing hopes which are unlikely to be fulfilled. Don’t think that I blame you! Sir Waldo’s attentions have been marked: it is even common knowledge that not a day has passed since Charlotte has been laid up without his calling on you at Staples.”
“To enquire after her progress—to bring her what he thought might entertain her!” Ancilla uttered, her throat constricted.
“My dear!” protested Mrs Chartley, with a slight laugh.
“Ma’am, I only once saw him—and then in company!”
“If you tell me so, I believe you, but it will be a hard task to convince others.”
“I am aware of it, ma’am,” said Ancilla bitterly. “I am held to be setting my cap at him, am I not?”
“We need not concern ourselves with expressions of spite. That is not at all my opinion. What makes me uneasy is his pursuit of you.If it had been any other man than Sir Waldo, I should have known it to be a determined courtship, and I should have been expecting every day to be able to wish you happy—for you cannot conceal from me, my dear, that you are by no means indifferent to him. That doesn’t surprise me in the least: I fancy there are few women strong-minded enough to withstand him. Even I—and he does not make up to me, you know!—am very conscious of his charm. I think him dangerously attractive, and don’t for a moment doubt that a great many females have fallen in love with him.”