“We must entertain a little while we are down here, my dear, for the girls’ sake. Perhaps it is as well too for the boys.”
“Yes, dear,” said Mrs Mallow, looking up from her sofa with her customary patient smile; and the company arrived, and was entertained in a manner that made Fullerton hope that no one would suffer for it, that was all he could say.
Among the guests who had been staying at the rectory were the Perry-Mortons—the Perry-Mortons in society meaning Mr Perry-Morton and his two sisters, for though it was believed that they had, or had had, a father and mother, the seniors were never even heard of, much less seen. Ill-natured people said that Perry-Morton the elder had been a pawnbroker who had made money largely. Be that as it may, Perry-Morton the younger was very rich, and never mentioned any relatives but his sisters.
Lord Artingale was there from Gatton every day, but his friend and companion, James Magnus, was in the North sketching, so the young man, having no restraining arm on which to lean, fell more in love as fast as he could with little Cynthia.
Claudine Perry-Morton—by the way, there was a good deal of familiar nicknaming at the house of the Perry-Mortons, Mr Perry-Morton having been known to call Claudine—Bessy, and the younger sister—Faustine Judy. But that was in the privacy of their home life, and showed the simplicity and deep affection of their natures.
Claudine Perry-Morton had made a dead set at the young nobleman, but finding at once that her chance was nil, she graciously made way for her sister, who sang “Jock of Hazeldine” at him, in a very deep contralto voice, and with a graceful stoop over the piano; but Faustine Perry-Morton was woman of the world enough to see that Lord Artingale’s thoughts ran in quite another direction, so she also resigned herself to circumstances, and thought him a man of exceedingly low tastes.
So all the smiles and sweetness of the sisters were lavished upon the rectory girls for their brother’s sake. Nothing particular was said, but it soon became evident that Perry-Morton found favour with the Rector, and it was quite understood that the wealthy visitor would, sooner or later, propose for his elder daughter’s hand.
She was nearly as bright at this time as her sister, and Artingale declared that she was the dearest girl he knew, not from any amiable passages between them, but because she laughingly helped him to pleasant little tête-à-têtes with her sister, especially when they were out riding; horse exercise and good long gallops being a great deal in vogue, when the weather was mild and clear.
Lord Artingale would canter over from Gatton, sending two or three or more horses by his grooms, an arrangement highly approved of by Frank and Cyril Mallow, who were very civil to him, though in private they compared notes, and said that he would be an awful fool if he had not borne a title and kept such good cigars.
Sometimes the Rector joined the equestrian parties upon a quiet cob, but he generally turned homeward after two or three miles, either to make a call or two at the outlying farms, or to meet the carriage. Then, to make things pleasant, poor Julia talked art on horseback with Mr Perry-Morton, while her sister and Lord Artingale had a brisk canter over some heath, and the groom behind sat and grinned.