Charlie had not gone in for honors, but had obtained the flattering assurance that he would have had them if he had tried. The announcement, backed perhaps by some mediation of his uncle, had brought an offer of a private secretaryship from Lord Liddesdale, and therewith armed, he had made the awful plunge at the Hall—his father and uncle both waiting to defend his independence.
Behold! Sir Robert and Lady Margaret had comported themselves like lambs. Either the scheme for Charlie's union with his cousin had been a figment, or they were glad to get the sole hope of their house married at all, or they were gratified by Lord Liddesdale's estimate of him, and had learnt wisdom by the ill effects of former opposition. Anyway their consent had been startlingly facile. They heeded birth more than wealth: Stella, with her own legacy and Theodore's, was not unportioned, and an Underwood of Vale Leston had such undeniable county blood that they never connected the younger Charles's ravings with the alarms that had elicited their consent to the elder Charles's expatriation fourteen years ago. Moreover Lady Liddesdale, who had been the young man's confidante, had promised to be a mother to his bride. She had just married off her last daughter, and wanted a young companion, and she offered rooms at the Embassy, and whatever Charlie could wish for his wife in the way of help and kindness.
So here was the young gentleman in tempestuous ecstasy, announcing that there could be no delay, for he was wanted at the Embassy by the middle of February.
The elder brothers and sisters expected to see their nestling distracted by the summons to a distant home in a strange land, but her equanimity amazed them all. She was Charlie's property, and it was only natural to be claimed. 'Every one did,' she said, and she would have been quite as contented to go with him to a City lodging or to the Australian bush as to the splendours of the Embassy.
Wilmet thought her too young to realize what it all meant, and held that she ought to wait a year or two; but Felix would hear of this as little as the captain, having no doubt that the calm, self-contained, thoughtful nature would be equal to whatever it might be called on to meet; and though Charlie was the younger in character, he was a thoroughly good, trustworthy fellow, nor would they begin with an independent home. Besides, was not Lady Liddesdale own sister to 'Sister Constance'?
The announcement of this splendid engagement mollified Marilda, who wrote heartily, and offered services either of hospitality or of choice of wedding clothes. Stella could not bear to leave home, but she was overruled. It was due to the Ambassadress that her outfit should neither be countrified nor left to Marilda's taste; so Wilmet took her to London for a week, and by Felix's desire expended the child's own original inheritance from her father in garments that might not disgrace the suite; the chief difficulty being that Stella had made Charlie consent to her completing her year of mourning for her brothers—a terrible grievance to Mrs. Underwood. Wilmet was meantime the recipient of all Marilda's views as to the folly of Felix's rejection of her offer to Gerald, over whom she absolutely seemed to yearn—and she caught at the invitation to the wedding as at least affording her a chance of seeing him, if not of bringing his uncle to hear reason.
The marriage was to take place on New Year's Day, and as soon as the bustle was over, 'Sister Constance' was actually coming to Vale Leston to arrange for the branch of the St Faith's Sisterhood which was to be established in connection with the future Church of the Comforter at East Ewmouth. She was to choose among houses to let the temporary abode of the sisters, but in the first place was to have a few days for the young friends, who now ranked as old, and on Charles Audley the elder.
The oculist's verdict had not been hopeless, but it had obliged him to give up all prospect of a return to a climate so noxious to the eyes as that of Western Australia. His visit to his home had made it evident that his place was no longer there. His parents were old and self-occupied, and had little in common with him, chiefly depending on their daughter-in-law, a complete woman of the world, thoroughly alien to the clergyman who had spent his strength on wild 'black fellows' and rude convicts. He was more trouble than pleasure to any of the party, and deemed it inadvisable to endure the penance of idleness and uncongeniality in their stately halls, since they gave him no opening for being of use to them; and his brother, who would not leave him, was always miserable there. Once the pet at home, 'poor Charles' was mourned over for his peculiarities, and coughed down if he endeavoured to explain them.
So as Clement was in the usual case of country Vicars, curate-hunting in vain, Mr. Audley proffered himself as a 'demi-semi-assistant,' able to do a good deal without book, and thankful for a refuge from total inefficiency. Clement was rather shocked at finding himself in such relations towards his old Guardian, almost a Bishop elect, but rejoiced in the counsel and support of his experience even more than in the actual aid, which indeed he greatly needed. And to Felix, the intercourse with his first friend was the greatest delight, while there was a rally in his health in the autumn that made even those who knew the worst hope the evil was averted, and every one else viewed him as recovering.
Perhaps he ventured a little too much in the greater sense of strength, for Lady Hammond being unable to go out, and warmly anxious to see the young couple, he took the long drive thither with them, and a few days later went to a public meeting. There was an attack upon Church influence in the Ewmouth hospital, and he went late, expecting only to have to give his vote, but he found a storm raging such as he did not expect, and his side of the question so inefficiently defended by its few lay representatives, that he stood up and spoke for nearly an hour with all his remarkable force and facility.