# The Semi-detached House/Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII.
"What a woman!" was all the comment Blanche made on the Baroness, "but I should like to know what she has heard from Berlin—should not you Aileen? It must have been something about Arthur, because she implied that our stay at Pleasance would be prolonged. What could it be?"
"I dare say," said Aileen, laughing, "my imagination will not go so far as yours has gone, she probably meant to intimate to us, simple rustics, that she was in all the political secrets of the Berlin negotiation. I should not wonder if the Baron were a stock-jobber, whatever that may be; but those sort of people always know, or pretend to know the ​politics of the continent half an hour before the rest of the world. A hitch in the treaty may be worth money to the Sampsons."
"That would be bad enough," said Blanche. "It would keep Arthur longer abroad. Of course she could not mean that Arthur had got into any intanglement."
"Of course not. Oh, Blanche! Blanche! we want Aunt Sarah to keep you in order. And so you are going to have Charlie for your playfellow to-morrow whilst I am away."
"Yes, I have taken quite a fancy to that poor little child. He looks so frail and suffering, and he told me he used to come every day to this garden to see the boats, till we took the house. I wish, Aileen, when you go out, you would go to Merton's and buy me a large Noah's ark, some picture books, and any toys of a laughable description; that child wants to be amused. I wonder Dr. Ayscough has not been here to-day?"
But he did not appear. When he came the following day, he found Blanche and little Charlie seated on the bank with a long ​ of small elephants, and gigantic ladybirds, all tending to an ark that did not seem adequate to house them, still less to admit eight yellow and red extinguishers, which were intended to represent Noah and his family.
"What now?" said the Doctor. "Why are you playing at Noah's arks? I thought you were, at least, half way to Berlin."
"No, you did not," said Blanche, "you thought on such thing, you were only, as usual, humouring me and laughing at me, I saw that all the time. It is a great pity that I have known you all my life, I see through you so well."
"Not half so clearly as I see through you, and it is a great advantage to you to have a steady old friend like myself, who withstands all your impetuosities. You were an impetuous baby when you were an hour old, and you are not tamed yet."
"But I am improving rapidly, I might have fretted over an obscure hint about Berlin that I had to-day, and that I could easily ​have magnified into a bête noir. Instead of which I have been sedulously at play with Charlie this last hour."
"And who is Charlie?" said the kind-hearted physician, taking the child's little wasted hand in his, and looking at him attentively. He could not see a sick child without trying to help it.
"He is the grandchild of my next door neighbour," and Blanche detailed the adventures of the preceding day, ending with an animated description of the magnificent Baroness.
"I know her," he said, "she is always sending for me, because she has nothing the matter with her, and I have not yet succeeded in curing her of her good health. And now, I have a valuable document for you, which I have persuaded Mrs. Armistead to give me." It was an extract from a letter of Mr. Armistead's, in which he said that their Prussian negotiation was nearly at an end, that he might come home any day, "but I think of taking a look at Dresden and Vienna, ​and may perhaps push on to Prague. I want Chester to go with me, but he is spooney about his wife, and in a fidget to get home."
Oh, thank you, thank you," said Blanche. 'Now, is not it a blessing to have a spooney husband? What does spooney mean? However, I do not much care, it evidently means that Arthur is soon coming home. Poor Mrs. Armistead, I suppose she is very much distressed."
"Not a bit. She said she was very glad, that she wanted to go to the sea, and that Armistead was always so bored at the seaside, he was a worry to her, and now she could go in comfort."
Blanche shrugged her shoulders, and shuddered slightly at this painful picture of married life, and declined to believe that the Armisteads were a happy couple after their own fashion, and while she sat in a happy state of spooney meditation, Dr. Ayscough took her place with the Noah's ark. He settled Charlie on his knee and bowwowed, and barked, and mewed, ​and made Shem knock down Japhet, and Mrs. Shem catch the grasshopper; and then putting the child down, he took Blanche aside, and said, "What are they doing with your little friend, He won't live unless he has proper medical treatment. He's a nice little fellow, make them bring him to my house to-morrow, and I will see him here again in a few days. Good-bye my little man."
"Don't go," said the child, "stay and bark a little more."
"No, no, I have no time for more barking to-day; but you come and see me to-morrow and bring Noah's dog with you; and do you," he said to Blanche, "go and frighten the grandmother. That is your duty for the day."
Blanche did as she was bid. She took little Charlie home, and when he had displayed his toys and was sent up stairs, she repeated to Mrs. Hopkinson the substance of her conversation with the physician.
The tears rolled down the old lady's cheeks ​as she thanked Lady Chester. "But, you see, we must consult his father, and poor Willis is rather a down-hearted man, and never believes that anything can do good to anybody, or that anybody can do good to anything. But he is coming up the walk, and, perhaps, if your Ladyship told him all this in your cheerful way it might convince him. Ah, poor Willis, he has never recovered the loss of his wife!"
That was a state of affairs to interest Blanche, and she received Willis with a degree of commiseration that flattered him extremely, and satisfied his highest expectations in the way of pity.
"Of course, I should wish my unfortunate child to have every alleviation of which his unhappy state admits. It will do no good; he is doomed, doomed, as every one connected with me must be."
"Oh, don't say so, Charles," cried Janet. "Think of your sisters-in-law."
"But," he continued, with an added share of gloom, "it may be a satisfaction hereafter ​to think that I had the advice of such an eminent physician, however useless it may be."
"You must not be so desponding," said Blanche, with tears in her eyes; she was actually a believer in Willis. "It is not surprising that, tried as you have been, you should tremble at the idea of a fresh bereavement; but I assure you, Dr. Ayscough is very sanguine about dear little Charlie."
"Sanguine!" said Willis, throwing up his eyes, "ah, he little knows! But I will not obtrude my sorrows on your Ladyship." In fact, he was in such a state of self-complacency at being recognized as a victim, that he was in imminent danger of being betrayed into cheerfulness. "I shall, of course, follow your advice. How is the poor little sufferer to go, ma'am?"' he added, turning to Mrs. Hopkinson.
"Oh, there is no difficulty about that," said Blanche, "I am going to send the carriage to-morrow morning for my sister, and if Mrs. Hopkinson and Charlie will go in it, they can all come back together." She rose ​to go as she spoke, Willis opened the door with a degree of civility he seldom practised, and Mrs. Hopkinson followed her into the passage, and ended by giving Lady Chester a warm kiss and sobbing out, "Well, I beg your pardon, but I could not have helped it if you had paid me for it. Nobody knows what that poor child has gone through, and he such a little dear, too! Only three years old! and I only hope he will live to thank you himself; for if ever there was a kind-hearted young creature it's yourself! and now just take care how you go down those steps, and God bless you!"
As Blanche sat by herself in the evening, she felt pleased with the recollection of the pleasure she had given, and planned another neighbourly act. She would try and see more of that interesting Mr. Willis, "and if I can persuade him," she thought, "to be a little more hopeful and resigned, it will add much to the comfort of that good-natured family. Indeed, I am not quite sure he is right to be so very miserable, and as ​everybody has their mission they say, my present mission is to try and make Mr. Willis more resigned. I wonder whether he ever laughed in his life? If so, he might be brought to laugh again."
The expedition to London was successful, and Mrs. Hopkinson had a great deal of interesting intelligence to impart to her daughters on her return. The carriage was so smooth, and Lady Chester had had quite a little bed of cushions made up for Charlie, "and as for that Doctor, my dears, I should almost like a short illness if he would attend me. He has put Charlie quite on a new plan, and he has written down all that is to he done; for I suppose he saw, easily enough, that I was as stupid as an old post, and he will come and see him the first time he goes to Pleasance. What a number of good people there are in this world! Then we went to call for Miss Grenville in Grosvenor Square, and she was so interested in Charlie, and said that if anybody could do him good, Dr, Ayscough would; and I am sure that is true. ​She had been at the Queen's concert, and seeing I was curious, she told me all about it; only, unluckily, she had not remarked the Queen's dress; but she said the Princess Royal wore a double skirt of white tarlatan looped up with roses, which is a good thing to know, and she said the Princess looked very happy, and thought that Charlie would have to go to the sea in time."
"Why, mamma, what can the Princess know of Charlie?"
"My dear," said Mrs. Hopkinson, laughing, "of course I meant Miss Grenville said that, but I have so much to tell, I mix it all somehow, Madame Grisi sang beautifully. There were at least twenty people waiting in the outer room—I mean at the Doctor's—but directly he saw little Charlie he called us in, and pretended to be so glad to see the wooden dog. I have quite enjoyed my drive, and Miss Grenville's talk, and the only disappointment is that the Prince of Prussia was not there—at the Palace, I mean."
When Aileen arrived at her own door, she ​asked if there were any one with her sister, and seemed disappointed when she heard that Lord Chesterton was in the garden with my Lady—"No one else?"
"No, ma'am, Colonel Hilton has been here, but he went away directly my Lord came."
Aileen brightened a little, but instead of attempting to join her sister, she went musingly into the drawing-room, and threw herself into an arm-chair, apparently for the enjoyment of her own thoughts; and her absent manner so excited the curiosity of Baxter, that he thought himself obliged to follow, and to ask if she would like to take any refreshment after her drive. And as she did not seem clearly to comprehend what refreshment meant, and declined it with an absent "No, thank you," he went down stairs to inform the housekeeper's room that "there was a screw loose somewhere," which announcement produced a considerable degree of excitement in those regions.
Aileen was not left long to herself and her absorption. Lord Chesterton and Blanche ​came in from the garden, Blanche with two bright red spots on her cheeks, and looking flurried, and Lord Chesterton most elaborately polite, and slightly irritable. He was generally a model father-in-law, and Blanche was sincerely attached to him, and anxious to please him; but there is no concealing the melancholy fact that he was by nature, what may be called prim, and primness under high pressure, is a very alarming quality, On his arrival at Pleasance, he had found a good-looking moustached young gentleman sitting alone with Blanche in the most earnest conversation; they both looked confused on seeing him, and the young officer withdrew in such haste, and in such manifest emotion, that Lord Chesterton's propriety took instant alarm, and produced a degree of formal civility, that almost came up to the courteousness of the last century. Blanche was no longer Bianca, or little Blanket, no paternal arm was passed round her waist, and no sportive admiration of her charms expressed. She became Lady Chester on the spot. Lord Chesterton ​almost bowed as he enquired after her health, and the frigidity with which he asked if she ever heard of Lord Chester, froze her recollection of Arthur's animated letters, and they seemed to fade into thin sheets of blank paper.
To own the truth, Colonel Hilton's visit had annoyed her quite as much as it had discomposed Lord Chesterton. His manner was odd and excited, he expressed with needless repetition, his delight at finding her, for once alone; and Blanche tried in vain to believe that he had not attempted to take hold of her hand, as he began some disjointed sentences about past anxieties and present happiness. And it was at this crisis that Lord Chesterton arrived. No wonder he looked astonished, and that she felt almost guilty; and the sound of Aileen's carriage was a relief to them both, there would have been a scene, if their tête-à-tête had lasted much longer, so Blanche hurried her father-in-law into the house; and by the help of Aileen and her London topics, conversation ​was carried on for a few more minutes, and then Lord Chesterton departed, or rather seemed to Blanche to vanish in a black cloud, which would dissolve eventually into a letter to Arthur, warning him of the folly of his wife.
"Oh, dear Aileen, what shall I do? he is so angry!"
"What is the matter, darling? I saw Lord Chesterton was not pleased, but don't cry about it—there must be some mistake. What has happened?"
"Why, it is all that dreadful Colonel Hilton. He came here this morning, actually came in at the garden gate, without asking if I were at home, and he began to talk in such a strange way. I am sure I never gave him the slightest encouragement to talk to me of his feelings, and his happiness, I do not care if he is happy, or miserable; and then Lord Chesterton came, and he looked astonished as well he might, and then to make matters worse, that odious Colonel Hilton rushed off like a madman, leaving my ​beau-père to suppose that he had disturbed an interesting tête-à-tête, and I know he will write to Berlin. Oh, Aileen! what shall I say to Arthur?"
"I will tell you," said Aileen, clasping her sister fondly in her arms, "tell Arthur that Colonel Hilton is going to be your brother-in-law, and he came to ask you to write to my uncle for us. Blanche, he proposed to me last night at the concert, and I thought I should have been at home two hours ago, and should have told you my story before he came. Dearest, I am so happy."
"Oh, Aileen! my own darling, and so am I. Well, if ever there was a surprise thoroughly and entirely delightful it is this! And so all these visits were for you? Now I see how it was, and what a ridiculous goose I have been," and Blanche laughed like a child, till Aileen caught the infection, and laughed too, till she suddenly asked her sister what they were laughing at.
"Why, at me, child; was there ever any body so absurd as I have been? How Aunt ​Sarah will triumph over me! but it was Arthur's fault, originally, he put it into my head that he was jealous of Colonel Hilton; so every time the poor man came here, I thought it was for love of me, or at all events, that Arthur would think so; and to-day I really believed he was going to make a declaration in form, and was doubting whether it were not my duty as a wife, at least to jump into the river to avoid hearing it. I really do think, as Aunt Sarah says, that my imaginativeness is increasing, and in the wrong direction. Why did not I imagine he was in love with you? nothing could be more natural, so I suppose that was the reason why I did not see it. But why did you not tell me, Aileen?"
"Because I was not sure of it myself. Last year, I saw a great deal of him at the Duchess of St. Maur's, and she always implied that her brother liked me; but then, you know, there was that Chancery suit going on about his fortune."
"No, I did not know it, I never read ​Chancery suits, but I will for the future, I shall look upon them now as connections. But go on, Aileen, this is too interesting."
"Well, Uncle Leigh reads Chancery suits, for, if you recollect, he hurried me out of town last year, soon after you came to Aunt Sarah's."
"I know he did, and I have hated him ever since; go on."
"He spoke to me about Colonel Hilton, and said he would have no encouragement given to a man who might be a pauper any day, that the suit would probably go against him; and as I would not promise to avoid him, he carried me to Leigh Hall."
"So like him."
"Well, Alfred—" said Aileen, with a little hesitation.
"And so his name is Alfred, one of my favourite names; but go on."
"Alfred tried, after I was gone, to make a friend of you; but after he had seen you twice, your marriage was declared, so that plan of carrying on our story failed, and as I heard ​nothing of him, and saw in the papers that he had gone abroad, I began to think he never had cared about me, but somehow that did not cure me of caring about him, and I was so unhappy, Blanche."
"My darling, I don't wonder; and you never told me a word about all this!"
"I thought I had been so silly; and when the law suit was decided in Alfred's favour, and he came into that immense fortune, Uncle Leigh began to suspect that he had been silly too, for he asked me if he should invite Colonel Hilton to Leigh Hall. Think of the degradation; of course, I said no, decidedly; but I believe Uncle Leigh thought there might be a chance of my meeting him at your house, or he would not so readily have let me come when you wanted me."
"And when you did come, there was I scowling away the very individual you wished to see," said Blanche, again relapsing into one of her laughing fits. "But, however, all's well that ends well; only I wish I knew what had become of the unfortunate Alfred; ​between me and my beau-père, he must have a low opinion of the manners of the Chestertons. Do you suppose he went back to town?"
"I feel sure somehow that we shall see him in the course of the day," said Aileen, with a placid satisfied smile. "But you must not call Alfred odious any more," she whispered.
"I never did, I said that the Colonel Hilton of my imagination was odious; but I like Alfred, who is to make my Aileen the happiest wife in the world, except her sister; and I shall soon begin to love him. But now I must write to Lord Chesterton."
"Oh! it is to be a secret, Blanche, for a few days."
"Yes, I know, dear, all marriages are secrets, till everybody has been told of them; but Lord Chesterton must be enlightened for the good of my character; and like all men embarked in great affairs, he loves a small confidence." So Blanche sat down and wrote:
   "My dear Lord Chesterton. Your visit to-day was so unsatisfactory both to you and ​myself, that you must come and see me again to-morrow or the next day at latest, and wish me joy of my darling Aileen's marriage to that Colonel Hilton who was sitting with me when you arrived to-day. I had never heard a word of their attachment, which it appears has been of many months standing; and was brought to a happy conclusion at the concert last night. He came to be received as a brother, and found that Aileen had not returned, and that I was utterly ignorant of what had occurred. His unexpected visit and his confused manner, distressed me, and when I saw how much you were annoyed, I felt that 'appearances were against me,' and I could not explain to you what was inexplicable to myself. Aileen's first few words made everything clear, and now you must come and be again the kind father you have always been to your poor little Blanket, who was a very wet blanket this morning. I could not help crying after you left me so coldly, but I am very happy now, and you have been always so kind to my sister, that I know you will ​sympathise with her happiness, and I have extorted from her the permission to tell you what is to be a secret to the rest of the world for a few days.
   " Your affectionate daughter,
   "B. C."
Now there was nothing in the world pleased Lord Chesterton so much as a small confidence. He liked to feel that he had in his possession an actual secret; something that was made clear in black and white to him, and remained a blank to the rest of the world. He carried these confidential letters about in his waistcoat pocket, occasionally alluding to them mysteriously, and perhaps allowing, to a very intimate friend the sight of one corner of the envelope, or of half the postage stamp.
Moreover, being very precise and reserved himself, the ease and frankness of his daughter-in-law were, to him, a constant source of surprise and amazement. He always recommended a very little more ​prudence in her conversation, and perhaps a shade less of rashness in her opinions, but he would have been extremely sorry had she attended to his recommendations. He liked her as she was, frank and open, and a perfect contrast to himself. He was touched by her note, by her sensitiveness to his blame or praise, and by her perception of the dignified manner in which he had shewn his disapprobation of the slightest levity, and he arrived at Pleasance the following morning in a high state of paternal affection and affability. He shook hands warmly with Colonel Hilton, embraced Aileen, though not without some misgivings as to the propriety of the act, and presented her with a magnificent bracelet; whereupon she returned his embrace, and thereby relieved him of his scruples.
The rest of his visit was passed in petting and admiring his daughter, and having placed in her hand a gorgeous looking porte-monnaie, he ventured to say, "that though it was hardly decorous he should allude to certain ​circumstances, yet that he was aware that his good little Blanche must be making preparations for an expected happy event, and that he had brought his contribution to what he believed, was called a layette." But this last word was too much for his delicacy, and he departed covered with confusion. The benevolent old villain was conscious that he had written to Arthur a mistaken statement of Blanche's conduct, and though the counter statement had followed immediately on the receipt of her note, he looked upon his offering partly as an atonement.
"It is a shame that Lord Chesterton should have given me this magnificent bracelet, and only that 'trifle from Paris' to you," said Aileen.
But when a cheque for five hundred pounds presented itself, the chorus of approbation was loud and unanimous, and Blanche's mind, wrapped in a christening robe, was lost in a sea of Valenciennes and embroidery.
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