THE DAWN OF A GALA DAY.
Illustrationo with the old of childhood. In a country there was a shire, and in that there was a town, and in that town there was a house, and in that house there was a room, and in that room there was a bed, and in that there a little girl; wide and to up, but not to do so for of the power in the next room—a Betty, must not be until six o'clock struck, when she of herself "as sure as clockwork," and left the very little peace afterwards. It was a June morning, and early as it was, the room was full of sunny and light.
On the opposite to the little white in which Molly Gibson lay, was a of bonnet-stand on which was a bonnet, over from any of with a large handkerchief, of so and a that if the thing it had been a of and and flowers, it would have been "scomfished" (again to from Betty's vocabulary). But the was of solid straw, and its only was a plain white put over the crown, and the strings. Still, there was a little inside, every of which Molly knew, for had she not it herself the before, with pains? and was there not a little in this quilling, the very of such Molly had had the of wearing?
Six o'clock now! the pleasant, of the church told that; calling every one to their daily work, as they had done for hundreds of years. Up jumped Molly, and ran with her little across the room, and off the and saw once again the bonnet; the of the day to come. Then to the window, and after some she opened the casement, and let in the sweet air. The was already off the flowers in the garden below, but still from the long hay-grass in the directly beyond. At one the little town of Hollingford, into a of which Mr. Gibson's door opened; and columns, and little of were already to from many a where some was already up, and preparing for the bread-winner of the family.
Molly Gibson saw all this, but all she about it was, "Oh! it will be a day! I was it never, would come; or that, if it came, it would be a rainy day!" Five-and-forty years ago, children's in a country town were very simple, and Molly had for twelve long years without the of any event so great as that which was now impending. Poor child! it is true that she had her mother, which was a to the whole of her life; but that was an event in the to; and besides, she had been too to be of it at the time. The she was looking to to-day was her in a of in Hollingford.
The little town away into country on one close to the entrance-lodge of a great park, where my Lord and Lady Cumnor: "the earl" and "the countess," as they were always called by the of the town; where a very amount of still lingered, and itself in a number of ways, to look upon, but of at the time. It was the of the Reform Bill, but a good of talk took place occasionally two or three of the more in Hollingford; and there was a great Tory family in the who, from time to time, came and the election with the Whig family of Cumnor. One would have that the above-mentioned liberal-talking would have, at least, the possibility of their for the Hely-Harrison, and thus trying to their independence. But no such thing. "The earl" was lord of the manor, and owner of much of the land on which Hollingford was built; he and his were fed, and doctored, and, to a measure, by the good people of the town; their fathers' had always voted for the son of Cumnor Towers, and in the track, every man-jack in the place gave his vote to the lord, totally of such as political opinion.
This was no of the of the great land-owners over in those days railways, and it was well for a place where the powerful family, who thus it, were of so a as the Cumnors. They to be submitted to, and obeyed; the of the was by the and as a right; and they would have still in amazement, and with a memory of the French who were the of their youth, had any of Hollingford to set his will or opinions in opposition to those of the earl. But, all that obeisance, they did a good for the town, and were condescending, and often and in their of their vassals. Lord Cumnor was a landlord; his a little on one sometimes, and taking the into his own hands now and then, much to the of the agent, who was, in fact, too rich and to for a post where his might any day be by my lord's taking a to go "pottering" (as the agent it in the of his own home), which, being interpreted, meant that occasionally the asked his own questions of his own tenants, and used his own and ears in the management of the smaller of his property. But his liked my lord all the for this of his. Lord Cumnor had a little time for gossip, which he to with the of personal the old land-steward and the tenantry. But, then, the up by her for this of the earl's. Once a year she was condescending. She and the ladies, her daughters, had set up a school; not a after the manner of now-a-days, where teaching is to the boys and girls of and work-people than often to the of their in estate; but a of the we should call "industrial," where girls are to beautifully, to be housemaids, and cooks, and, above all, to dress in a of by the ladies of Cumnor Towers;—white caps, white tippets, check aprons, gowns, and curtseys, and "please, ma'ams," being de rigueur.
Now, as the was from the Towers for a part of the year, she was to the of the Hollingford ladies in this school, with a view to their as visitors the many months that she and her were away. And the of the town to the call of their lady, and gave her their service as required; and along with it, a great of and admiration. "How good of the countess! So like the dear countess—always of others!" and so on; while it was always that no had Hollingford properly, unless they had been taken to the countess's school, and been by the little pupils, and the still there to be inspected. In return, there was a day of set every summer, when with much and hospitality, Lady Cumnor and her all the visitors at the Towers, the great family in in the centre of the large park, of which one of the was close to the little town. The order of this was this. About ten o'clock one of the Towers' rolled through the lodge, and to different houses, a woman to be honoured; them up by ones or twos, till the again through the portals, along the tree-shaded road, and deposited its of smartly-dressed ladies on the great of steps leading to the doors of Cumnor Towers. Back again to the town; another up of in their best clothes, and another return, and so on till the whole party were assembled either in the house or in the gardens. After the proper amount of on the one part, and on the other, had been done, there was a for the visitors, and some more and of the the house. Towards four o'clock, coffee was round; and this was a of the that was to take them to their own homes; they returned with the happy of a well-spent day, but with some at the long-continued of their best, and talking on for so many hours. Nor were Lady Cumnor and her free from something of the same self-approbation, and something, too, of the same fatigue; the that always on to as will best the you are in.
For the time in her life, Molly Gibson was to be among the guests at the Towers. She was much too to be a visitor at the school, so it was not on that account that she was to go; but it had so that one day when Lord Cumnor was on a "pottering" expedition, he had met Mr. Gibson, the doctor of the neighbourhood, out of the farm-house my lord was entering; and having some small question to ask the (Lord Cumnor passed any one of his without a question of some sort—not always to the answer; it was his mode of conversation), he Mr. Gibson to the out-building, to a ring in the of which the surgeon's was fastened. Molly was there too, square and on her little pony, waiting for her father. Her opened large and wide at the close and of "the earl;" for to her little the grey-haired, red-faced, man, was a an arch-angel and a king.
"Your daughter, eh, Gibson?—nice little girl, how old? Pony wants though," it as he talked. "What's your name, my dear? He's sadly with his rent, as I was saying, but if he's ill, I must see after Sheepshanks, who is a man of business. What's his complaint? You'll come to our school-scrimmage on Thursday, little girl—what's-your-name? Mind you send her, or her, Gibson; and just give a word to your groom, for I'm sure that wasn't last year, now, was he? Don't Thursday, little girl—what's-your-name?—it's a promise us, is it not?" And off the trotted, by the of the farmer's son on the other of the yard.
Mr. Gibson mounted, and he and Molly off. They did not speak for some time. Then she said, "May I go, papa?" in an little of voice.
"Where, my dear?" said he, up out of his own professional thoughts.
"To the Towers—on Thursday, you know. That gentleman" (she was of calling him by his title), "asked me."
"Would you like it, my dear? It has always to me a piece of gaiety—rather a day, I mean—beginning so early—and the heat, and all that."
"Oh, papa!" said Molly, reproachfully.
"You'd like to go then, would you?"
"Yes; if I may!—He asked me, you know. Don't you think I may?—he asked me twice over."
"Well! we'll see—yes! I think we can manage it, if you wish it so much, Molly."
Then they were again. By-and-by, Molly said,—
"Please, papa—I do wish to go,—but I don't about it."
"That's a speech. But I you you don't to go, if it will be any trouble to you there. I can easily manage it, however, so you may it settled. You'll want a white frock, remember; you'd tell Betty you're going, and she'll see after making you tidy."
Now, there were two or three to be done by Mr. Gibson, he about Molly's going to the at the Towers, and each of them a little trouble on his part. But he was very to his little girl; so the next day he over to the Towers, to visit some housemaid, but, in reality, to himself in my lady's way, and her to Lord Cumnor's to Molly. He his time, with a little natural diplomacy; which, indeed, he had often to in his with the great family. He into the stable-yard about twelve o'clock, a little luncheon-time, and yet after the worry of opening the post-bag and its was over. After he had put up his horse, he in by the back-way to the house; the "House" on this side, the "Towers" at the front. He saw his patient, gave his to the housekeeper, and then out, with a wild-flower in his hand, to one of the ladies Tranmere in the garden, where, according to his and calculation, he came upon Lady Cumnor too,—now talking to her about the of an open which she in her hand, now a about bedding-out plants.
"I was calling to see Nanny, and I took the opportunity of Lady Agnes the plant I was telling her about as on Cumnor Moss."
"Thank you, so much, Mr. Gibson. Mamma, look! this is the Drosera I have been wanting so long."
"Ah! yes; very I daresay, only I am no botanist. Nanny is better, I hope? We can't have any one up next week, for the house will be full of people,—and here are the Danbys waiting to offer themselves as well. One comes for a of quiet, at Whitsuntide, and one's in town, and as soon as people know of our being here, we without end, for a of country air, or saying how the Towers must look in spring; and I must own, Lord Cumnor is a great to for it all, for as soon as we are here, he about to all the neighbours, and them to come over and a days."
"We shall go to town on Friday the 18th," said Lady Agnes, in a tone.
"Ah, yes! as soon as we have got over the visitors' affair. But it is a week to that happy day."
"By the way!" said Mr. Gibson, himself of the good opening thus presented, "I met my lord at the Cross-trees Farm yesterday, and he was to ask my little daughter, who was with me, to be one of the party here on Thursday; it would give the great pleasure, I believe." He paused for Lady Cumnor to speak.
"Oh, well! if my lord asked her, I she must come, but I wish he was not so hospitable! Not but what the little girl will be welcome; only, you see, he met a Miss Browning the other day, of I had heard."
"She visits at the school, mamma," said Lady Agnes.
"Well, she does; I said she did not. I there was one visitor of the name of Browning; I there were two, but, of course, as soon as Lord Cumnor there was another, he must needs ask her; so the will have to go and four times now to them all. So your can come easily, Mr. Gibson, and I shall be very to see her for your sake. She can with the Brownings, I suppose? You'll it all with them; and mind you Nanny well up to her work next week."
Just as Mr. Gibson was going away, Lady Cumnor called after him, "Oh! by-the-by, Clare is here; you Clare, don't you? She was a patient of yours, long ago."
"Clare," he repeated, in a tone.
"Don't you her? Miss Clare, our old governess," said Lady Agnes. "About twelve or fourteen years ago, Lady Cuxhaven was married."
"Oh, yes!" said he. "Miss Clare, who had the here; a very girl. But I she was married!"
"Yes!" said Lady Cumnor. "She was a little thing, and did not know when she was well off; we were all very of her, I'm sure. She and married a curate, and a Mrs. Kirkpatrick; but we always on calling her 'Clare.' And now he's dead, and left her a widow, and she is here; and we are our to out some way of helping her to a without her from her child. She's about the grounds, if you like to your with her."
"Thank you, my lady. I'm I cannot stop to-day. I have a long to go; I've here too long as it is, I'm afraid."
Long as his had been that day, he called on the Miss Brownings in the evening, to about Molly's them to the Towers. They were tall women, past their youth, and to be to the doctor.
"Eh dear! Mr. Gibson, but we shall be to have her with us. You should have of us such a thing," said Miss Browning the elder.
"I'm sure I'm sleeping at nights for of it," said Miss Phœbe. "You know I've been there before. Sister has many a time; but somehow, though my name has been on the visitors' list these three years, the has named me in her note; and you know I not push myself into notice, and go to such a place without being asked; how I?"
"I told Phœbe last year," said her sister, "that I was sure it was only inadvertence, as one may call it, on the part of the countess, and that her would be as as any one when she didn't see Phœbe among the visitors; but Phœbe has got a mind, you see, Mr. Gibson, and all I say she wouldn't go, but stopped here at home; and it all my all that day, I do you, to think of Phœbe's face, as I saw it over the window-blinds, as I away; her were full of tears, if you'll me."
"I had a good after you was gone, Dorothy," said Miss Phœbe; "but for all that, I think I was right in stopping away from where I was not asked. Don't you, Mr. Gibson?"
"Certainly," said he. "And you see you are going this year; and last year it rained."
"Yes! I remember! I set myself to tidy my drawers, to myself up, as it were; and I was so taken up with what I was about that I was when I the rain against the window-panes. 'Goodness me!' said I to myself, 'whatever will of sister's white shoes, if she has to walk about on after such rain as this?' for, you see, I a about her having a pair of shoes; and this year she has gone and got me a white pair just as as hers, for a surprise."
"Molly will know she's to put on her best clothes," said Miss Browning. "We her a beads, or artificials, if she wants them."
"Molly must go in a clean white frock," said Mr. Gibson, hastily; for he did not the Miss Brownings' taste in dress, and was to have his child up according to their fancy; he his old Betty's as the more correct, the more simple. Miss Browning had just a of in her as she herself up, and said, "Oh! very well. It's right, I'm sure." But Miss Phœbe said, "Molly will look very in she puts on, that's certain."
