Chapter Twenty Seven.
After Two Years.
Nearly two years had passed by since Lilias had broken off her engagement with Ned Talbot, and Gervase Vanburgh had told Nan of his love, and a stranger passing along the village highroad one bright May day might have discerned an air of unusual excitement and bustle in Thurston House. The housemaids were hanging clean curtains in every window from attic to cellar; the gardener was bedding out plants; message boys besieged the house with trays of provisions, and the Parcel Delivery van seemed to empty its entire contents at the door. Nor did the bustle grow less as one entered the house, for the hall was banked up with plants, and seven girls enveloped in aprons seemed to be chasing one another up and down stairs, so rapid and unceasing were their movements. There would have been no difficulty in recognising our old friends, though the years had not passed without bringing changes in their wake. Maud’s sweet face had lost its look of sadness, and blossomed into fresh youth; Lilias was still the professional beauty, whose very apron was donned with an air to effect; while, wonder of wonders! Nan had grown tidy, possessing hair as daintily coiled and hands as carefully kept as Lilias’s own. In the old days it had been hazarded as an occasional conjecture that Nan was pretty; but there could be no doubt on that question now, for the plump face had moulded into shape, the complexion toned down to a soft pink and white, and the dark eyes shone with happiness. Happiness, indeed, seemed to radiate from Nan to-day, as she raced up and down the house, as hard-worked as any of her sisters, yet in some indefinable way distinguished from the rest, for she was given the precedence in all that went on, while every time that she and her mother came together, they embraced with fresh unction. For the rest, Elsie had reached her ambition, and the age when she might dress her hair as she chose, and by means of parting it in the middle and plastering it over her ears had given herself an appropriately funereal aspect. Even Agatha boasted a coil at the back of her head, while Christabel and Kitty wore skirts which reached to their ankles.
Advancing years had, however, by no means diminished the girls’ powers of conversation; and as they banked up plants in corners of the staircase, and rearranged furniture in the sitting-rooms, the babel of voices was as deafening, and seemingly as inexhaustible, as of yore.
“Children, children, be quiet! Stop talking, for mercy’s sake!” pleaded Mrs Rendell piteously. “I try to ask a question, and cannot make myself heard. You will make Nan’s head ache if you go on like this. Go up to your room to write your letters, Nan dear. Don’t attempt to do it here, but take the chance of half an hour’s quiet when you can get it.”
Nan rose obediently, and carried her writing materials upstairs; but it was some time before she sat down at her desk, for the dressing-room door stood open, and therein lay something which exercised an irresistible attraction, something which lay stretched on a sofa, swathed in careful wrappings.
Nan drew back the sheet with reverent fingers, and there it lay in all its beauty—a gleaming satin dress, the train folded skilfully in and out, bunches of orange-blossom catching up the lace, which was festooned with as much lavishness as if it had been modest Nottingham, instead of precious Brussels, of that rich mellow tint which comes from age alone. A bride’s dress, and a bride’s dress fit for a princess, and in the box beside it a veil of the same old lace, and in the safe in the corner a diamond necklace and stars which represented a fortune in themselves!
Could it be, could it really be that all this splendour was for her? And oh! lucky girl, that she was so happy in love given and received, that they counted as nothing, and less than nothing, in her rejoicings! Could it be that to-morrow morning—in twenty-four hours from now—in less than twenty-four hours, she would be transformed from Nan Rendell of the coat and skirt—Nan, the third daughter in a large family, in constant straits for money and anticipation of her dress allowance—into Nan Vanburgh in satin and diamonds, Mrs Gervase Vanburgh, with her country seat, her diamonds, her carriages, her expectations of even greater wealth to come! Oh, wonder of wonders! Oh, fairy tale in real life! Oh, dear and beautiful prince, to work such marvels in a poor girl’s life! Nan bent down lower and lower until her lips touched the gleaming folds and her cheek rested lovingly against them, then she drew the sheet forward once more, and went back to her seat. To think, not to write, however—to think over the two years that had just passed, and all the events which they had brought. Had she really loved Gervase from the beginning, even as he had loved her? It seemed as if she had, for after that memorable interview in the garden she had known no doubt nor hesitation. It was right to wait and let time prove the stability of her feelings, but at the bottom of her heart she had felt no uncertainty as to her final answer; and oh, how long had seemed the last three months of the year, with what joy she had hailed July—what a happy; happy time it had been for all concerned! Mrs Rendell and Maud had been the only members of the family who had known of the intention which lay behind Gervase’s frequent visits; and if the surprise with which the engagement was greeted was mingled with some envy and disappointment from one of the five sisters, the others more than made up for it by their unaffected delight.
Gervase had long received the sanction of approval; and once assured of Nan’s happiness, it was impossible for the most unworldly of relatives to restrain a thrill of satisfaction in the grandeur of the alliance. The schoolroom party was inflated with pride at the thought of “My sister Mrs Vanburgh,” and even Maud tilted her head and smiled with a complacent air when congratulated on the engagement. As for the parents, they were naturally delighted at the prospect of so prosperous a marriage for their dear girl, while old Mr Vanburgh shed tears of happiness over the fulfilment of a cherished dream.
“She will be the making of the boy!” he declared. “He has always been a good fellow, but too indifferent and lazy to make the most of his abilities. Nan’s energy, Nan’s enthusiasm will be his salvation! This is the best news I have heard for many a long, long year. It puts fresh life into me in my old age.”