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Read books online » Fiction » Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 2 (of 3) by Mrs. Alexander (ereader for textbooks txt) 📖

Book online «Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 2 (of 3) by Mrs. Alexander (ereader for textbooks txt) 📖». Author Mrs. Alexander



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the old city of A——, were discussed. Mr. Langley glanced once or twice at his hat, which had unfortunately got into an inaccessible corner, and Kate began to fear that this first interview, to which she had looked, as to a mine of information, whereby to form her plans, and guide her future proceedings, would pass away[131] in the vain repetition of polite nothings; while the Colonel, in his high-bred anxiety to entertain his visitor, seemed to forget there was any more serious subject to discuss, beyond the decline of the drama, or the prospects of the ministry.

It was always with extreme reluctance that Kate, ever broached any subject, connected with the realities of their position, in the presence of her grandfather, now that all the necessary changes had been made; and to this natural difficulty, was added the awkwardness of introducing important queries, apropos to nothing. At last, taking advantage of a pause in the Colonel's eloquence, of which Mr. Langley seemed inclined to avail himself, to depart, she plunged boldly, because desperately, into the subject uppermost in her thoughts.

"I am most anxious to lose no time in endeavouring to get pupils. Mr. Winter mentioned to you, I suppose?"

[132]

"Yes;" said Langley, turning to her with more of complacency, than his manner had hitherto exhibited, his painter's eye, probably caught by her expressive countenance, and graceful figure. "Yes, he mentioned your intention—and I—that is, I hope you will not disapprove; I told some friends of mine, professors of music, and they wish to hear you play; and then they will be able to judge how far they can forward your views."

"Thank you," cried Kate, glancing nervously at the Colonel, to whose high and usually pale forehead the color rose at this proposed exhibition of his refined, noble, and graceful grandchild; "you are most kind to have anticipated my arrival; but," she added, covering her face playfully with her hands, "I never shall have courage for such an exhibition, such an ordeal!"

"But if they never hear you perform, how can they recommend you?" asked Langley, in a matter-of-fact tone.

[133]

"I did but jest," replied Kate, "and am ready to do whatever you may recommend."

"Of course, if it is repugnant to Miss Vernon, however friendly and judicious your suggestion, Mr. Langley, I cannot permit her," began the Colonel, in disturbed accents.

"Dearest grandpapa, this matter is between Mr. Langley and myself—you may listen—but are not to interfere. Am I not right, Mr. Langley?"

He bowed, startled into silent admiration, by the extreme beauty of her smile.

"I am silenced," said the Colonel.

"Winter mentioned," resumed Langley, after a moment's pause, "that you were a pupil of Hermann's; I would advise your renewing your acquaintance with him; he is one of the first masters, in the fashionable world, at present."

"I fully intend writing to him to-morrow, and—"

"Why not to-day?" interposed Langley,[134] with increasing warmth. "And merely ask him to appoint an interview—be sure you see him—writing is of little use—besides he has a daughter—I mean two—amiable girls, I am told—indeed I know one of them. Miss Vernon," addressing the Colonel, "can, therefore, call on him with perfect propriety, for he could never otherwise see her, his time is so much occupied."

The Colonel, again reddening to the roots of his hair, made a silent inclination of his head, too much overcome at the idea of Kate's being compelled to call on any man, to be able to infringe upon her injunction.

"Unfortunately," resumed Langley, "I have no one to do the honors of my house; but my sister, who lives close by here, intends to do herself the pleasure of calling on you, Miss Vernon, and hopes to fix some evening, when I can introduce you to some professional friends—but I see you have no piano."

"We shall be most happy to make your[135] sister's acquaintance; my piano is still at A——; but I hope to have it early next week—only I am sure I cannot think where it can stand in this diminutive chamber."

"But it is essential; you so soon lose the facility of execution. Winter tells me, you play well; and he is no mean judge."

"I trust you may be of the same opinion; but the degree of perfection required from musicians appals me!"

"Nothing mediocre goes down now," returned Langley, with an emphasis, not very encouraging. "And as I believe I have paid you a long visit," rising nervously; "my sister would have accompanied me, but one of her little boys is ill. I hope she may soon be released—I mean, be able to call on you. She knows several people about here, all with young families. Ah, good morning, Miss Vernon, good morning, sir."

"I shall take an early opportunity of re[136]turning your visit," said the Colonel, accompanying him to the door.

"Pray do; and as Mr. Winter tells me, Miss Vernon is a lover of paintings, perhaps she might like to take a look at my studio?"

"Oh, thank you," cried Kate, who had followed them. "I shall be delighted."

"Good morning, then."

"This seems promising, dear grandpapa," said Kate, settling back to her writing, with a sunny smile. "I am so glad I saw Mr. Langley, before I closed my letter; he appears friendly, though certainly not brilliant."

"Promising, Kate," cried the Colonel, playing nervously with his glasses, and holding the paper aside in one hand, "promising! It is unutterably repugnant to my feelings to think, that you will have to exhibit your paces, or your performance rather, to secure the suffrages of a set of fiddlers, and to wait upon a fat German, who, I remember, used to[137] seem to abjure water, and wore a ring on his thumb. This Mr. Langley seems to forget what is due to a gentlewoman altogether, or to be totally ignorant of it. And, only that I was afraid of vexing you, my love, I would have told him so. Cold-blooded John Bull!"

"I should indeed have been greatly distressed had you done so," said Kate. "You know, dearest and best, I am only known to him in my new character; and is it not unreasonable to be displeased with him, because he endeavours, according to his judgment, which I believe to be the true one, to forward my views!"

"Instinct might have told him, yours was a peculiar case! to tell you to call on a German music-master!"

"Pooh, grandpapa, as Mr. Winter would say, if you and I were staying at the 'Clarendon,' en route to Paris, you would be the first to encourage me in paying a visit to my old master, why—"

[138]

"It is a totally different thing, this old German—"

"True, and it may be prejudice; but, under the circumstances, I would prefer visiting a German to an English music-master. My own, dear grandpapa, we must be content to lose the shadow, if we can secure the substance; and now I must proceed to finish my letter."

Hastily finishing her long, crossed epistle to the Winters, she proceeded to pen a billet to Hermann, recalling herself to his recollection, and expressing a strong desire for an interview with him; this was placed selon les r�gles in an envelop, when a grand difficulty presented itself—the address—"He used to live in Baker Street, but I forget the number." She rung.

"Would Mrs. Crooks be so good as to let me see a directory?"

"Please 'em, she's not got one."

"How provoking! and it is just post hour!"

[139]

"Send that note on chance," suggested the Colonel; "and we can get the right address from Langley, if it fails."

"Good," she replied; and sent both her epistles at once to the post.

The day, notwithstanding the promise of the morning, proved wet; but Langley's long visit, and her long letter, made it pass quickly to Kate. She now put away her writing materials, singing snatches of her favourite songs, to her grandfather's surprise, and looking bright as an embodied gleam of sunshine; the idea of speedy action was cheering beyond measure, to her energetic, earnest spirit; and though it may lower her in the estimation of sentimentalists and evangelicals, she was too young and too light-hearted, not to feel considerable pleasure, at the idea of a soir�e at Langley's sister's.

"Are ye ready for yer dinner, Miss Kate? an' would the masther mind the girl layin'[140] the cloth?" enquired Mrs. O'Toole, putting in her head.

"Certainly not," replied the Colonel.

"I have not seen you all day, nurse," said Kate, "what have you been doing."

"I wint out to get some chops for yer dinners, an' the thief iv a butcher asks me nine-pince a pound for thim. 'Is it jokin' ye are,' ses I, 'mum,' ses he, as if he was bothered. 'Is it plum cake ye do be feedin' yer sheep on,' ses I, 'to go be afther askin' nine-pince a pound for thim chops,' ses I, wid that he ups and he ses, his mate was the best an' the chapest in the place, an' I'd get nothin' ondher it; an' sure enough I wint to ivery butcher widin' two miles, an' sorra one iv thim ud give the chops for less, an' some asked more; there's London for ye! But it ud break yer heart to see the woman sthrivin' to brile thim on the hanful iv coals in wan corner iv the grate, I wish ye'd spake to her to let me cook for yes,[141] but—" Nurse suddenly paused, and held up her hand to enforce silence, as an approaching jingle announced the coming dinner apparatus.

"Have you dined yourself, dear nurse?" asked Kate.

"Sure I tuck a cup iv tay, an' an egg, sorra sich an egg iver I seen! Ye know it's a fast day, Miss Kate."

Their dinner was soon despatched; the half cold, half raw chops, so different from their simple yet tempting fare at home, offering little to induce its prolongation. After its removal, Kate looked wistfully from the window.

"It does not rain now, grandpapa, would you not like a stroll into Kensington Gardens? I should like so much too, to find out some library, for how shall we get over this evening without music, or work, or books, or chess. Oh, I forgot, nurse has unpacked the chess-board."

"I am not inclined for walking, or chess,[142] either, my love; indeed I am singularly knocked up; I should like a book, however."

"But I am sure a little walk would do you good, dear grandpapa."

"No, my dear, I will take a sleep, and, if you like to go out, nurse can go with you, it will be a pleasure to her too."

After settling the Colonel to the best of her ability in the impracticable arm-chair; Kate summoned Mrs. O'Toole, who most readily obeyed her call, heartily tired of the society of Mrs. Crooks, for, as she said emphatically, "there's no divarshin in thim English!"

After enquiring their way to the nearest circulating library, Kate and Mrs. O'Toole set out on their exploring expedition. The rain had ceased, and a rich, yellow, evening sun shone out in full lustre.

"How new everything looks here, nurse," said Kate, when they had walked a few[143] minutes in silence, "how different from dear old A——."

"In troth it does, Miss Kate; but thim gardens, as they call thim, is mighty fine, an' did ye iver see sich dawshy little houses, wid balconies afore?"

"Never, indeed, they give me the idea of handsomely ornamented mansions, seen through an inverted telescope, for there is a little of everything about them."

"Athen wan, good, ould, red stone house, like what was in A——, is worth a score iv thim."

The extreme newness of everything, notwithstanding its prettiness and neatness, was displeasing to Kate's eye, accustomed, as it had been, to the mellow tints and picturesque irregularity of A——.

It is remarkable how much more congenial, both to heart and mind, are indefinite and irregular outlines; as if the more perfect finish,[144] was all too cramped, too finite to satisfy the boundless and formless imaginations of man's heart; as Tupper beautifully says,

"Thinkest thou the thousand eyes that shine with rapture on a ruin,
Would have looked with half their wonder on a perfect pile?
And wherefore not—but that light tints, suggesting unseen beauties,
Fill the complacent gazer with self grown conceits?"

The library was, without much difficulty, found, and the demure damsel, who there represented the muses, in reply to Kate's enquiries, handed her a catalogue, in which she soon lost herself, as one usually does in the vain attempt to discover favorite authors, widely separated by an inexorable alphabetical arrangement.

"Have you nothing by the authoress of 'The Cup and the Lip?'" asked Kate.

[145]

"Yes, ma'am, but it's out; this work is a good deal called for," presenting a volume open at the title page.

Kate glanced at it, 'Zarifa, a Tale of the Passions.'

"No, thank you," said Miss Vernon.

"Just got this in, ma'am; 'Trials and Trifles, by one who has experienced both.'"

"Let me look at it, if you please. Ah, this is rather too sentimental. Have you the 'Knight of Gwynne'?"

"Yes'm."

"Then I will take it; and pray send the 'Times' every morning, to No. — Victoria Gardens,

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