Kate Vernon: A Tale. Vol. 1 (of 3) by Mrs. Alexander (trending books to read .TXT) 📗

"Oh, I remember something of that," observed Colonel Vernon.

[Pg 83]

"Besides, Miss Vernon, did I not serve an apprenticeship to all that is pleasantest in Irish life at Dungar," I continued.

"Bravo!" cried the Colonel.

"We admit you are half a compatriot," said Miss Vernon.

"It is curious, Kate's distinct remembrance of you when you used to play so good naturedly with her at Dungar, and her total unconsciousness of your identity at the ball."

"It is too provoking," I returned, "to think my stratagem was in fact unnecessary. Could I have discovered your name I am certain Dungar would have immediately presented itself to my memory. Miss Vernon looks like an Irish woman, and—"

"It is well you have so clearly made out your perfect familiarity with Irish life. The English ideal of an Irish woman, generally presents a broad face, wide mouth, and torn petticoat," said she, laughing.

[Pg 84]

I had sufficient tact not to reply, save by a look, which I was glad to perceive possessed sufficient eloquence to call up the soup�on of a blush into the speaker's cheek.

"Believe me, I tried hard for some legitimate introduction before I ventured on my bold attempt."

"Yes," said the Colonel, laughing, "you were, I remember, remarkable for your timidity."

"You certainly did look a little amazed when I pretended to recognize you," remarked Miss Vernon, "but only for a moment. There was a Mr. Harcourt I used to meet at Lady Desmond's, a very fine gentleman; something like you, with whom for the sake of consistency I chose to identify you. You see, grandpapa, I could not have danced but for some such ruse, and when I proposed merely looking on, I did not calculate how the sounds and sights of a ball-room would rouse the old leaven within me."

"My good star was in the ascendant; but for[Pg 85] your admirable treatment of my audacity I should have been still ignorant that I had old friends within reach."

"You would have stumbled on me in some of your sketching expeditions," observed the Colonel.

I exclaimed hastily "Yes, but—" and stopping my imprudent revelations, rose to open the door for Miss Vernon, who left us, saying she had outstaid the proper interval for ladies. We soon followed her, and stood gazing at a fine harvest moon, which was gradually silvering the rocks and the river, as daylight disappeared, until the arrival of Miss Vernon's guests speedily broke in upon our pleasant reminiscent chat, and I was formally introduced.

Mrs. Winter looked rather puzzled. "I thought, my dear, it was all a mistake, your dancing with this gentleman?"

"Well, Mrs. Winter, the whole affair is now in such an entanglement of mistakes that I advise you not to attempt unravelling it; rest content with the assurance that Captain Egerton is a bon�[Pg 86] fide old acquaintance, fully recognised by grandpapa and myself."

"I am sure I never meant I doubted it," said Kate's ex-chaperon, with a little twittering embarrassed laugh, "but"—

"I am going to make tea, and you had better make your peace with Captain Egerton, whom you evidently doubt," returned Miss Vernon.

I seated myself beside Mrs. Winter and drew her into conversation, by praising the old town and its locale, with very genuine warmth; it was her native place, and my appreciation of it seemed to open her heart. We then in some imperceptible manner glided into natural history, and I was listening with every appearance of thrilling interest, to a circumstantial account of the habits and customs of a pug dog, called Fan, when Miss Vernon approached with a cup of tea, whereupon my informant rose, saying she would go to the tea table, around which we all now assembled.

"Captain Egerton is a brother of the brush, Mr. Winter," said Miss Vernon.

[Pg 87]

"Indeed!" he replied, with a sharp keen glance, "what's your style, sir?"

"Oh, I merely sketch; sometimes in water colours, but generally in chalks. Very rude attempts, I assure you."

"It's a glorious gift, any portion of power to transfer living nature to dead canvass or paper. Miss Vernon tells me that she would give worlds to be a painter, and yet she will not even try to draw."

"I do try," she exclaimed, "I feel my eyesight failing fast in the effort; but you cannot force nature, and she did not intend me for a proficient in your noble art."

"Pooh, pooh," cried Winter, "don't tell me that with your eye for the beautiful, for colors, for grace (look at the arrangement of those flowers, Captain Egerton), that you have no genius for painting; you have been shamefully neglected, and all your talents forced into another species of harmony, more fashionable but infinitely inferior."

[Pg 88]

And he puffed, wiped his forehead, and swallowed his cup of tea at a gulp.

"Mr. Winter, I will not allow you to misrepresent yourself," said Miss Vernon, "you love music in your very soul; do not pretend to think it inferior for the sake of argument!"

"It is inferior; painting appertains more to the intellect than music," rejoined Winter stoutly.

"We know that angels sing in Heaven, but we never heard of their sketching," replied Miss Vernon.

Mr. Winter, the Colonel, and I, laughed heartily at Miss Vernon's novel argument, and Winter, recovered from the momentary shock with a hasty "Pooh, pooh, Heaven indeed! Look at the lives of eminent painters, and then look at the lives of musicians."

"I would rather not," said his antagonist.

"Yes, it is strange," I observed, "but painters seem to be a less dissipated set of fellows than musicians; yet surely there is something of Heaven in music, and"—

[Pg 89]

"Captain Egerton," cried Miss Vernon, holding up a menacing finger, "are you taking that renegade's part?"

"Far from it, Miss Vernon; no art can surpass music in my estimation; but as to the lives of its professors, there is, alas! no mistake."

"I was a member of the Beefsteak Club in Dublin," said the Colonel; "we used to begin our evenings with the most divine duets and trios, glees and choruses, &c.; but towards the end, earth assumed the ascendant, and so great was its attraction, that by far the greater number of us were generally floored before the finale."

"But," said Winter, with a slightly contemptuous look, "I do not speak of mere performers, I mean composers, creators, men of genius!"

"They surely were men of good report, at least," began Miss Vernon.

"Miss Kate, if you please," said Nurse, looking in, "little Mr. Gilpin wants to spake to you."

"Oh, show him in, Nurse; say Grandpapa particularly wishes to speak to him."

[Pg 90]

The Colonel rose, and advanced a step or two towards the door, through which entered a little man, deformed and slightly lame, with the pale angular face usual in deformed persons, a pair of deep set vivid dark eyes, and a certain mild sad expression, which conveyed itself to you at once—though it could not be said to strike you—and saved him from the appearance of utter ugliness. He came forward with an uncertain timid manner, holding a broad dusky-looking book. The Colonel shook his hand with an air of extreme cordiality and high-bred respect, exclaiming, "We had almost given you up." Miss Vernon, who had also risen, now greeted him. "Did you not get my message, Mr. Gilpin? I called at your house to-day to beg you would join us this evening."

"No," said a remarkably rich soft voice, "none was given to me. I came here to show you a treasure I lately discovered in an old chest in the Chapter house," and he handed her the book.

Miss Vernon opened it with looks and exclamations of delight, and Winter joined the group.

[Pg 91]

I was left seated with his wife, the only member of the party who had not risen to greet the new comer. I turned an enquiring glance towards her, to which she answered, in a low tone, "Mr. Gilpin, the Organist of the Priory Church; he is an excellent musician, and a great favorite with the Colonel and Miss Vernon."

Here Miss Vernon interrupting her examination of the book and laying it on the piano, said, "But I am forgetting to offer you any tea, Mr. Gilpin,"—and placing a chair beside her own, returned to the tea table; while Colonel Vernon, with a wave of the hand towards me, exclaimed, "There is the reason we particularly wished you to join us this evening, my dear sir; in order to make our old and new friends acquainted. Let me introduce Captain Egerton to you, Mr. Gilpin; Captain Egerton, an old Dungar friend of ours, whom I picked up very curiously this morning."

Mr. Gilpin returned my salute, and looking at me somewhat keenly, drank his tea; continuing[Pg 92] to converse in a low tone with Miss Vernon, who turned on him, from time to time, such beaming looks of kindliness, that it required all my consciousness of his great personal disadvantages, and grey hair to boot, to prevent the "green-eyed monster" from taking possession of me.

The Colonel devoted himself to Mrs. Winter; sometimes joining in Miss Vernon's conversation, while Mr. Winter, turning to me with much civility, placed himself at my service, so far as directing me to the antiquities and scenery, best worth viewing went; "further would be useless, for every eye sees its own beauty and its own sketch!"

Fully assenting to this, we glided into pleasant conversation on the respective merits of ancient and modern painters, till, at last, Miss Vernon rang the bell, to dismiss the tea apparatus, and order lights; "although it is almost sacrilege to shut out that lovely moon," she added, smiling.

"No," said Winter, "a soliloquy or a t�te � t�te[Pg 93] is best by moon-light; but for a social party, large or small, it is too bold and pure a light; we'd find our spirits flag under its influence."

"Then let us shut it out speedily," said the Colonel, drawing the curtains and opening the piano; "I suppose, Egerton, we may include you among the lovers of music?"

Assenting to this readily, I moved to where Miss Vernon was again inspecting the dusky book. "May I see the treasure you have found?"

"Oh yes, you see it is an old book of chants, how curious the square-headed notes are! I suppose they are genuine Gregorian; have you tried any of them yet, Mr. Gilpin?"

"Almost all; some are very rude, but many of them are beautiful; I long to try their effect with several voices; and with your assistance, as you say you will be so good, I hope soon to have the children in training."

"If you think I am capable."

"Kate," said her grandfather, "Winter has[Pg 94] brought his violin; give us that German duet I like so much."

After a little tuning, they began, and kept most perfectly together; I have seldom heard a more charming performance. Both evidently understood, not only the music, but each other's feeling of it, while Miss Vernon's round white fingers seemed to make a living, feeling creature of the inanimate instrument.

"Well, that is well done; you improve," I heard the Organist say, in tones of great satisfaction, while we were more noisily applauding; and Kate looked up in his face with such complete reliance on his judgment, and delight in his approbation, that I felt a strange thrill of vexation to think how dubious it was that such would ever be called forth by me.

Mr. Gilpin, now taking Miss Vernon's place at the piano, poured forth a beautiful "sinfonia," I think they call it; and Miss Vernon accepting the seat I vacated for her, sat listening and abstracted, her full eyes gazing on some imaginary[Pg 95] object, unconscious of all around her; a slight tremor sometimes passing over her curved upper lip.

Rousing herself with an almost imperceptible sigh, she turned her eyes full on me, interrupting abruptly the long gaze in which I had indulged, "How beautiful! what a story that music seems to tell." At this moment the music, slow and of touching sadness, had glided by a succession of sweeping chords into a bolder and more martial strain.

"You have a great deal of imagination, Miss Vernon."

"That is a polite way of saying you are a visionary."

"No, no, there is nothing visionary about you, but I respect imagination."

"Then you are a rare specimen of your sex, Captain Egerton."

"Yes, we have less imagination, but then our life is much more practical."

"Has yours been a very practical life?"

[Pg 96]

"Mine! do not ask me to look at it."

She laughed low but merrily.

"This has been a delightful evening to me; I have to thank you for a peep into a new world, Miss Vernon."

"Oh, you like it because it is new; you would