With all her frivolity and her hankering after great society, the woman was kindhearted, as she had proved by her treatment of her sister. When in the days gone by it was proposed by Mr. Irvine that Eleanor should be sent upon the stage, the plan was rather approved of than otherwise by Fanny, who thought it time that her sister should be earning her own livelihood, and saw nothing to be complained of in the means by which it was proposed she should do so. After her marriage, indeed, while enlarging on her own experiences in the concert-rooms, she would aver it to be a very different arena from the stage, would shake her head at the mention of ladies of the theatrical profession, of whom not more than two (who were supposed to have certificates of character from the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Editor of Punch) were admitted into Mrs. Chadwick's society. But formerly, when there had seemed to be a chance of thirty shillings a week being added to the general income, Fanny not merely had felt no scruple at Eleanor's following this despised profession, but had rated her sister soundly when the girl expressed her horror at the career in store for her; nor while she was still toiling in concert-rooms was she best pleased that Eleanor should be leading a comparatively easy life in that very society to which she, Fanny, had always aspired. After her marriage, however, all was very different. Mrs. Chadwick then thought it scarcely right that her sister should be 'dependent on a fine lady,' more especially a fine lady who could not be induced to take any notice of Mrs. Chadwick, although that worthy woman had what children call 'spelled' for it in every possible way; and when Mr. Irvine died, Fanny took her sister from her father's poor lodging, to which she had returned after May Dunmow's marriage, and bade her be happy at Fairfax-gardens until she should possess a home of her own.
At Fairfax-gardens Eleanor lived happily enough until this question of her marriage arose to cause her annoyance. Occasions of difference between the sisters had previously been slight and few, for Eleanor was in the habit of giving way to her sister's whims, and save when she was requested to give up her black dress at the end of six months--a period which Mrs. Chadwick thought quite long enough to show any outward signs of lamentation for her deceased father--she had but little difficulty in doing so. On that point, however, she was firm; and as it would have been impossible for her in her mourning attire to take part in the festivities which commenced so soon as the prescribed time was over, Eleanor did not mix with the general society, but only saw those who were intimate friends at the house. Amongst the latter was Mr. Spiridion Pratt, a dilettante gentleman of five or six and thirty, who, having an excellent fortune and a cultivated taste, chose to pass the 'fallow leisure of his life' with painters, sculptors, writers, musicians, and actors, and to attempt himself to shine a little in each of those vocations in which his friends were proficient. Poems signed 'S.P.' were not uncommon in the pages of the fashionable magazines; the President of the Royal Academy (remembering a commission which he had received and executed for painting an equestrian portrait of the late Mr. Pratt for presentation to the Muffletubbe Hunt, of which he had been M.F.H.) had made a very graceful allusion at one of the annual banquets to 'an amateur contribution of great merit which graces our walls,' and all the R.A.s of Spiridion's acquaintance, who were in the habit of dining with him very often, tried to catch his downcast eyes, and in their after-dinner perambulations through the room nudged each other as they pointed out a rather gloomy canvas representing a Rhenish wineglass, a bunch of grapes, half a cut orange, and two boiled prawns, which, under the title of 'Still Life,' had been S.P.'s contribution to the exhibition. It is needless to say that 'Ballads of the Blighted,' words and music by Spiridion Pratt, Esq., are on every piano, and that two of them, 'My Muffineer' and 'Take, O take the toast away,' have achieved an unparalleled success.
With all these social advantages, and with a certain amount of good looks of the black-eyed, straight-nosed, hairdresser's-dummy style, Mr. Pratt was naturally a favourite with the ladies, and certain affaires with which his name was mixed up had been freely discussed in society. These affaires Mrs. Chadwick professed to look upon as mere trifles, though one of them had lasted for a considerable time, and was supposed to be even then in existence. Any discreditable connection of the kind, however, could not possibly be known to a lady of Mrs. Chadwick's virtue, and wholly ignoring it, she laid plans for making a match between her sister and the accomplished Spiridion. Eleanor, as we have seen, was by no means pleased at the idea; but Mr. Pratt was not merely much struck by the girl's beauty, but thought it would be very delightful to have the moulding of such a young and ingenuous creature, and to undertake the formation of her character on a plan peculiarly his own. The already existing connection threatened to prove an obstacle; but that connection must be broken at some time or other, and Spiridion thought he would have little chance of finding a better excuse than Eleanor Irvine.
Such was the state of affairs at the time when Eleanor was paying her stolen visits to Lady Forestfield; necessarily stolen, because Mrs. Chadwick imagined that all connection between Eleanor and her quondam patroness had ceased, and would have been horribly scandalised at the notion that her sister was in the habit of seeing one 'who had so painfully forgotten herself.' Fanny had never had any liking for Lord Stortford's family, and the fact that her younger sister had been preferred to her for adoption in the Grosvenor-square household had never ceased to rankle in her mind. When, therefore, the story of Lady Forestfield's disgrace became known, Mrs. Chadwick made it the theme of many bitter discourses, with which she improved the occasion, and inflicted the deepest pain on her sister when kindness was needed.
When she left Podbury-street after the conversation recorded in the last
, Eleanor found herself suffering from unusual depression. Something in Lady Forestfield's manner when speaking about Spiridion Pratt convinced the girl that May knew more than she was willing to tell. So far as Mr. Pratt himself was concerned Eleanor had no feeling in the matter, and had she regarded him in the light of a common acquaintance she would have pronounced him to be a gentleman, but rather a vain and silly man. She knew, however, that Mrs. Chadwick's project had not been lightly conceived, and would not be easily departed from, and objectionable as the idea of, marriage with Mr. Pratt had been before, since she had discussed it with her friend the vague dread with which May Forestfield's words had inspired her made her regard it with increased aversion. On her arrival at Fairfax-gardens she found her sister just returned from her drive, and looking through the cards which had been left during her absence.
'"P.P.C." on nearly all of them,' said Mrs. Chadwick, looking up. 'There was quite a thin Park, and there is not the smallest doubt that everybody is leaving town; and it was only this morning that James told me there was no possibility of our getting away for another month. That won't matter to you, Eleanor, I suppose,' she said as she seated herself; 'for you don't seem to me to care whether it is the season or not--indeed, I think you are rather happier when nobody comes.'
'I am sure of it,' said Eleanor quietly.
'Well, my dear child, you really must get out of these moping ways,' said Fanny. 'As I have told you so many times, you should leave off your mourning and come out with me; a drive in the Park would have done you infinitely more good than sitting with that invalid schoolfellow of yours; for I suppose that is where you have been all the day?'
'Yes,' said Eleanor, with a slight blush; 'that is where I have been.'