The Manoeuvring Mother (Vol. 1-3). Lady Charlotte Campbell Bury
with her ladyship with great presence of mind. Mr. Spottiswoode slightly bowed; but he did not address her, or join in the short conversation which ensued between the ladies. Miss Wycherly became silent, and struggled visibly, to Julia's eye, for resolution to bear up through the scene. Lady Ennismore broke up the meeting by ordering her carriage, and then Miss Wycherly's situation became oppressive. Tom Pynsent came forward to his cousin with looks of interest. "Cousin Pen, I will drive your carriage home, for Miss Julia Wetheral says you are not fit to hold the reins, and I think so too."
Lady Spottiswoode and her daughter entreated Miss Wycherly to suffer Mr. Pynsent to take her place, and renounce the idea of driving.
"The air will revive me," said Miss Wycherly, her lips quivering as she spoke. "I am fatigued, I believe, and I will gladly allow Tom to drive; but I cannot sit in the carriage. I must be in the air."
Mrs. Pynsent felt for her niece, and she resolved to prevent her suffering the distress of sitting a couple of hours by the side of Tom, who was now as good as married to Miss Wetheral. She applied to Mr. Spottiswoode.
"Here, Charley, can't you drive the ladies home? It's all in your way, you know, and quite out of Tom's. Suppose you drive your party into Shrewsbury, and Pen will drive herself on to Lidham; the distance is a trifle from Shrewsbury."
Mr. Spottiswoode expressed himself ready to undertake the office of coachman, if Miss Wycherly approved of his skill: Miss Wycherly caught at this one last opportunity of seeing and speaking to her lost lover: she rose from her chair, and reseated herself.—
"I shall be happy if you … yes." Not a word more could pass her lips, though she tried to articulate. Mr. Spottiswoode looked earnestly at her pale countenance, and appeared struck by her agitation. Mrs. Pynsent's heart was disturbed by her poor niece, Pen.
"That arrangement will do, boys. Tom, just shew Miss Wetheral the new picture in the study before she goes, and Charley, Miss Wycherly's groom will ride your horse. I shall tell Bill Wycherly he ought to send the coachman with Pen, not a groom-fellow."
Lord Farnborough and his daughter rose to take leave. It appeared to Miss Wycherly's jealous eye, that Lady Anna spoke laughingly to Mr. Spottiswoode upon the subject of his new vocation, but she could not catch the words, or his reply: Lady Anna made her a passing bow as she joined Lord Farnborough, and they were gone when she passively sunk upon a sofa by Julia's side, exhausted with her efforts. "Julia, this day decides my destiny—I am weaker than a child."
Mr. Henry Tyndal approached them to express his regret at Miss Wycherly's fatigue: she closed her eyes, and turned from him in disgust, abruptly exclaiming—
"I wish to be quiet and alone, Mr. Tyndal."
"I am glad you are not going to drive back," persevered Henry Tyndal; "I dare say Spottiswoode will drive you very well; he is a very fair hand at the ribbons. I'm sure I would drive you with the greatest pleasure in the world, Miss Wycherly, but I am not a dab at driving. I am glad, however, I shall be riding by your carriage: you will ride inside, of course: I hope—I beg you will ride inside."
Miss Wycherly looked daggers at the man with whom she had been so intimate for many days, and whom she had allowed to be constantly in attendance.
"I require no one's opinion, Mr. Tyndal, to regulate my actions, and I shall be obliged by your removing from before me."
"I am afraid Miss Wycherly is very ill," said Henry Tyndal, looking inquisitively at Julia. "What can we do for her, Miss Wetheral?"
"Do, for Heaven's sake, leave me!" cried Miss Wycherly, losing all patience at his including himself in her arrangements; "I will not be annoyed by your obstinate stupidity."
"Stupidity, Miss Wetheral! Now what can Miss Wycherly mean by stupidity, when I am so fearful about her driving home?"
Julia saw her friend's complexion reviving, and her eye lighting up with a thousand fires: in another moment, a torrent must overwhelm the unfortunate Henry Tyndal; but, as if to prove his utter blindness, he placed his own foot upon the precipice by offering to take her hand. Miss Wycherly felt the extent of her imprudence, in suffering the attendance of a man whom she never intended to marry, by its effects; but reason, at that moment, did not inform her impatient spirit that the fault was hers alone. All suggestions of reason were overpowered by anger, for Charles Spottiswoode's eyes were upon her, and he had witnessed the action. Miss Wycherly pushed Henry Tyndal's hand away, and rose from her seat, as she replied, with great impetuosity,
"If you ever presume to approach me with familiarity, I will tell you how I abhor the insolence, and resent the affront. How dare you attempt to touch me, Mr. Tyndal?"
Mr. Tyndal was offended, but he never imagined insult and insolence could be implied in his well-intentioned movement: he, therefore, stood silent and sulky for a few moments. Miss Wycherly passed him, and took her station between Lady Spottiswoode and her aunt. Mrs. Pynsent was pleased to perceive her son still absent, and her anxiety was sincere, in endeavouring to get her niece away from Hatton, and in preventing Tom's reappearance: she was sure Sally Hancock would think with her that, when once Tom was married, Pen would think no more of the matter. Lady Ennismore's departure destroyed all her intended plans for Penelope's peace of mind; for Miss Wetheral was recalled from contemplating the new picture, and where her fairy footsteps led, there followed Tom Pynsent. It was in vain that Mrs. Pynsent bustled round her niece, and recommended her to Mr. Spottiswoode's care; Tom's first step was to bring Anna Maria up to his cousin.
"We have hardly spoken together, have we, Pen, in this confounded bustle? but here's my little wife, come to ask how you are, and to say you must always be glad to see us at Lidham, when you set up with you know who." Tom looked knowingly at Henry Tyndal.
"We have ever been good friends, Penelope, and a closer connexion shall not disunite us," said Anna Maria, as they shook hands. Tom Pynsent, infinitely too happy to remain stationary, walked away with his prize, and Miss Wycherly remained with the Spottiswoodes. Mr. Charles Spottiswoode was giving all his attention to some coloured prints on hunting subjects, when Mrs. Pynsent summoned him.
"Here, Charley, your party are waiting for you, and you are sitting dumb-founded, like a lover bewitched. Pen, who do you suppose Charley is thinking of? Who is a long way on her road to Farnborough Stacey, Charley?"
Mr. Spottiswoode hastily put away the prints; and Miss Wycherly was fast sinking into the depression which follows effort of any kind, when Tom Pynsent returned, in high feather, from assisting the Wetheral party into their carriage. He flew to Miss Wycherly.
"Cousin Pen, my little wife commands me to dine at Wetheral to-day, so I shall see you properly packed up under Spottiswoode's care: very good thing Spottiswoode was here, or I should have driven you home in a towering passion for standing in my way. Come this way, Pen, my little wife sends you a message, and so does her sister: I must tell them as a profound secret."
"You be hanged, Tom, with your secret!" said his mother, "and do not keep Pen from her party."
Tom Pynsent dragged Miss Wycherly into the large bay-window, in spite of opposition.
"I don't understand ladies' ways just yet, Pen, but I am ordered to say these words from my little wife, 'Be firm;' and her sister desired me to say, 'All things must end well, if patient.' Now the devil a bit can I make out any meaning from either sentence, can you?"
"Yes, I understand, Tom; and tell them this evening for answer, 'Amen.'"
"You are all a parcel of riddles, Pen; what has 'amen' to do with your affairs. I say, Pen, what's all this with Spottiswoode?"
Miss Wycherly tried to answer her cousin's question lightly, but she burst into tears.
"Oh, ho, that's it, Pen, is it?" Tom Pynsent pronounced the words slowly, as if awakened to some new idea gradually. "All must end well, be firm, and amen. I see something now, by Jove."
His cousin made no reply, but the tears coursed down her cheeks. Tom Pynsent was sorry for her, and he put his arm round her waist, to suit the action to the word.
"Never mind, Pen; if you've quarrelled, touch your