"You have not told me the offence."
"In the first place, there was an absurd form of Christmas-tree, to which one was dragged blindfold, and sedulously made ridiculous; and I-I had a dust-pan and brush. Yes, I had, in mockery of our endeavours to purify that unhappy street."
"I should have taken it as a little harmless fun," said Raymond. "Depend on it, it was so intended."
"What, when Mrs. Tallboys had a padlock and key? I see you are determined to laugh at it all. Most likely they consulted you beforehand."
"Cecil, I cannot have you talk such nonsense. Is this all you have to complain of?"
"No. There was a charade on the word Blockhead, where your brother Charles and the two De Lanceys caricatured what they supposed to be Mrs. Tallboys' doctrines."
"How did she receive it?"
"Most good-humouredly; but that made it no better on their part."
"Are you sure it was not a mere ordinary piece of pleasantry, with perhaps a spice of personality, but nothing worth resenting?"
"You did not see it. Or perhaps you think no indignity towards me worth resentment?"
"I do not answer that, Cecil; you will think better of those words another time," said Raymond, sternly. "But when you want your cause taken up, you have to remember that whatever the annoyance, you brought it upon yourself and her, by your own extraordinary proceeding towards my mother-I will not say towards myself. I will try to smooth matters. I think the De Lanceys must have acted foolishly; but the first step ought to be an expression of regret for such conduct towards my mother."
"I cannot express regret. I ought to have been told if there were things forbidden."
"Must I forbid your playing Punch and Judy, or dancing on the tight-rope?" cried Raymond, exasperated.
Cecil bit her lip, and treated the exclamation with the silent dignity of a deeply injured female; and thus they reached home, when Raymond said, "Come to your senses, Cecil and apologize to my mother. You can explain that you did not know the extent of your powers."
"Certainly not. They all plotted against me, and I am the person to whom apology is due."
Wherewith she marched up-stairs, leaving Raymond, horribly perplexed, to repair at once to his mother's room, where Frank still was; but after replying about his success in the examination, the younger brother retreated, preferring that his story should be told by his mother; but she had not so much as entered on it when Raymond demanded what had so much disturbed Cecil.
"I was afraid she would be vexed," said Mrs. Poynsett; "but we were in a difficulty. We thought she hardly knew what she had been led into, and that as she had invited her ladies, it would do less harm to change the character of the party than to try to get it given up."
"I have no doubt you did the best you could," said Raymond, speaking with more like censure of his mother than he had ever done since the hot days of his love for Camilla Vivian; "and you could have had nothing to do with the personalities that seem to have been the sting."
Mrs. Poynsett, true boy-lover that she was, had been informed of the success of Tom's naughtiness-not indeed till after it was over, when there was nothing to be done but to shake her head and laugh; and now she explained so that her son came to a better understanding of what had happened.
As to the extinguishing Women's Rights in child's play, he saw that it had been a wise manoeuvre of his mother, to spare any appearance of dissension, while preventing what she disapproved and what might have injured his interests; but he was much annoyed with the De Lanceys for having clogged the measure with their own folly; and judging of cause by effect, he would hear of no excuse for Rosamond or her brothers, and went away resolved that though nothing should induce him to quarrel with Julius, yet he should tell him plainly that he must restrain his wife and her brothers from annoying Cecil by their practical jokes. He was, as usual, perfectly gentle to his mother, and thanked her for her arrangement. "It was not her fault that it had not turned out better," he said; and he did not seem to hear her exoneration of Rosamond.
He had scarcely gone when Rosamond came in from the village, asking whether he had arrived, as she had seen his hat in the hall.
"Yes, Rosamond. You did not tell me of Cecil's vexation!"
"Cecil? Have I seen her since? No, I remember now. But is she angry? Was it the dust-pan? Oh! Tom, Tom!"
"That and the Blockhead. Did Tom say anything very cutting?"
"Why it was an old stock charade they acted two years ago! I had better tell her so."
"If you would it would be an immense relief, my dear. Raymond is very much annoyed; she says she will speak to nobody till she has had an apology."
"Then she can be as great a goose as I! Why, the Yankee muse and Mrs. Duncombe took all in good part; but Cecil has not atom of fun in her. Don't you think that was the gift the fairies left out at the christening of the all-endowed princess?"
Mrs. Poynsett laughed, but anxiously. "My dear, if you can make peace, it will be a family blessing."
"I! I'll eat any dirt in the world, and make Tom eat it too, rather than you should be vexed, or make discord in the house," cried Rosamond, kissing her, and speeding away to Cecil's door.
It was Raymond who opened it, looking perturbed and heated, but a good deal amazed at seeing his intended scapegoat coming thus boldly to present herself.
"Let me in," she breathlessly said. "I am come to tell Cecil how sorry I am she was so much vexed; I really did not know it before."
"I am ready to accept any proper apology that is offered me," said Cecil, with cold dignity; "but I cannot understand your profession that you did not know I was vexed. You could have intended nothing else."
"But, Cecil, you misunderstood-" began Rosamond.
"I never misunderstand-"
"No human creature can say that!" interposed Raymond, immensely thankful to Rosamond-whatever her offence-for her overtures, and anxious they should be accepted.
"I could not," continued Cecil, "misunderstand the impertinent insults offered to my friends and to myself; though if Lady Rosamond is willing to acknowledge the impropriety I will overlook it."
Raymond's face and neck crimsoned, but Raymond's presence helped her to rein in her temper; and she thought of Julius, and refrained from more than a "Very well. It was meant as a harmless joke, and-and if you-you did not take it so, I am very sorry."
Raymond saw the effort, and looked at his wife for softening; but as he saw none, he met the advance by saying kindly, "I am sure it was so meant, though the moment was unfortunate."
"Indeed it was so," cried Rosamond, feeling it much easier to speak to him, and too generous to profess her own innocence and give up Tom. "It was just a moment's idle fancy-just as we've chaffed one another a hundred times; and for the Blockhead, it is the boys' pet old stock charade that they've acted scores of times. It was mere thoughtlessness; and I'll do or say anything Cecil pleases, if only she won't bother Julius or Mrs. Poynsett about our foolishness." And the mist of tears shone in the dark lashes as she held out her hand.
"I cannot suppose it mere thoughtlessness-" began Cecil; but Raymond cut her short with angry displeasure, of which she had not supposed him capable. "This is not the way to receive so kind an apology. Take Rosamond's hand, and respond properly."
To respond properly was as little in Cecil's power as her will; but she had not been an obedient daughter for so large a proportion of her life without having an instinct for the voice of real authority, and she did not refuse her hand, with the words, "If you express regret I will say no more about it."
And Rosamond, thinking of Julius and his mother, swallowed the ungraciousness, and saying "Thank you," turned to go away.
"Thank you most heartily for this, my dear Rosamond," said Raymond, holding out his hand as he opened the door for her; "I esteem it a very great kindness."