Life soon settled itself to the new conditions of the Swaffhams. The General, in spite of his wife's and daughter's disapproval, bought the Sandys House near Russel Square, and some of the most precious heirlooms of old Swaffham were brought up to London to adorn it, For it was now certain that the Lord General would not agree to part with his faithful friend and ally; and, indeed, Swaffham's influence in the army could not well be spared, for it was evident enough that there was such ill-will between the army and the Parliament as might easily become a very dangerous national condition.
"So we may be here the rest of our lives, Jane, and we may as well get our comforts round us," said Mrs. Swaffham, and there was a tone of fret in her voice she did not try to hide. "William won't marry as a good man should at his age," she continued, "and Tonbert thinks himself too young to wive; and Cymlin is for Lady Matilda de Wick or no other woman, and so the dear old place will run to waste and mischief. And there are the fine milch cows—and the turkeys. Who will attend to them when I am not there to see they get attention? Nobody."
"Will and Tonbert know how to manage, mother."
"Yes, if it comes to meadow and corn land, or horses, or dogs. I am thinking of the house and the dairy and the poultry yard. Men don't bother themselves about such things; and my boys won't marry, and my girls won't let marrying alone. I am sure I don't know what to make of it all."
In spite of her complaining, however, she was well content in London. Social by nature, fond of the stir and news of life, enjoying even the shadow of her old friends' power and splendour, and taking the greatest interest in all public events of the time, she was pleased rather than otherwise at the Lord General's determination to keep her husband near him.
Neither was Jane at all averse to London. Cluny was in London, and Matilda was there, and most of the girls whom she had known all her life long. And it was not difficult to adapt herself to the new home, with its long galleries and large rooms full of beautiful paintings and handsome furniture. The little figure in its sober-tinted raiment took on a prouder poise, richer clothing seemed necessary and fitting; and insensibly, but continually, the fashion of the Swaffhams' life shook off its rusticity and became after the manner of the great Puritan town in which their lot had been cast.
And if Jane accepted willingly this change in life, Matilda took her phase of it still more enthusiastically. She was not long in discovering that it was in her power to be virtual mistress of the Jevery mansion. Her youth, her beauty and her many sorrows inclined Sir Thomas Jevery's heart to sympathy, and this prepossession grew rapidly to devoted affection. What the Lady Matilda de Wick desired became a law in Jevery House, and Matilda's desires were not remarkable for their moderation. She had her own apartments, her own servants, and her own company at her own hours, and Sir Thomas settled on her an income which he pretended had been an agreement between Earl de Wick and himself—a statement Matilda neither inquired about nor disputed.
No stipulations were made concerning her friends, and indeed Sir Thomas was not averse to a distinct royalist party in his house, if it was reasonably prudent. He himself entertained all parties, affecting to be inclined to men through higher motives than political prejudices. "Izaak Walton and John Milton, Mr. Evelyn and Sir Harry Vane, are all equally welcome at my table," he would say; "we have a common ground to meet on, which is beyond the reach of politics."
So Matilda quickly outgrew those griefs for which there was no remedy; she regained her health and much of her radiant beauty, and she spent many hours every day in adorning herself. For the first time in her life she had money enough to indulge this passion, and Sir Thomas declared she was in the right to do so. "A lovely woman in a shabby gown," he said, "is a sin against nature; she is like a queen without her crown and robes."
With such encouragement to fine attire, Matilda was not sparing in her orders for silks and brocades, furs and laces, and India goods of all descriptions. She had inherited her mother's jewels, and she was considering one morning a string of Orient pearls, wondering if they could be worn with her new damasse gown, when Jane entered her dressing-room.