Abbeychurch Or Self-Control and Self-Conceit Part 28
Patrick's days,
"went flop, Slap bang into the water, And thus committed suicide To save himself from slaughter."'
They now began to consider how Fido could have met with his death.
Harriet was sure that some naughty boy must have thrown him in. Lucy thought that in that case he would have lost his blue ribbon; Dora indignantly repelled the charge of cruelty from the youth of Abbeychurch; Elizabeth said such a puppy was very likely to fall off the bridge; and Rupert decided that he had most probably been attacked by a fit, to which, he said, half-grown puppies were often liable.
Rupert and Anne then began talking about a dog which they had lost some time ago in nearly the same manner; and during this dialogue the party divided, Harriet and Katherine walked on in close consultation, and Lucy and Helen began helping Dora to sort and carry her bulrushes, which detained them behind the others.
'What appears to me the most mysterious part of the story,' said Rupert, 'is how the beloved Fido, petted and watched and nursed and guarded as he seems to have been, should have contrived to stray from your house as far as to the river.'
'Oh! that is no mystery at all,' said Elizabeth; 'we crossed the bridge twice yesterday evening, and I dare say we left him behind us there.'
'What could you have been doing on the bridge yesterday evening?' said Rupert. 'Oh! I know; I saw the people coming away from a tee-total entertainment; you were certainly there, Anne, I hope you enjoyed it.'
'How very near the truth you do contrive to get, Rupert,' said Elizabeth.
'Then,' cried Rupert, with a start, 'I see it all. I thought you all looked very queer at breakfast. I understand it all. You have been to the Mechanics' Inst.i.tute.'
'Yes, Rupert,' said Elizabeth.
'No, but you do not mean to say that you really have, Lizzie and Anne,'
cried Rupert, turning round to look into their faces.
Each made a sign of a.s.sent; and Rupert, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment, burst into a violent fit of laughter, which lasted longer than either his sister or cousin approved, and it was not till after he had been well scolded by both, that he chose to listen to their full account of all that had pa.s.sed on the subject.
'The worst of it is, now,' said Elizabeth, 'that as soon as Mrs.
Hazleby hears that Fido has been found in the river, she will ask how he came near it.'
'And what then?' said Anne.
'Why, she well knows that the bridge is not a place to which we are likely to resort; she will ask what took us there; I would not trust Harriet to tell the truth, and I have promised not to betray her, so what is to be done if Mrs. Hazleby asks me?' said Elizabeth.
'I hope she will not ask her youngest daughter,' said Anne.
'That she shall not do,' said Elizabeth: 'I will tell her myself that Fido was found in the river, and answer all her questions as best I can.'
'It is rather a pity,' said Anne archly, 'that Miss Hazleby did not actually fall into the river, for the sensation caused by Rupert's rescuing her would quite have absorbed all the interest in Fido's melancholy fate.'
'Thank you, Anne,' said Rupert; 'I am sure I only wonder she was not submerged. I never could have guessed any fair lady could be so heavy.
I am sure I feel the claw she gave my arm at this moment.'
'How very ungallant!' said Anne.
'Still,' said Rupert, 'without appearing as the preserver of the fair Harriet from a watery grave, I think I have interest enough with Mrs.
Hazleby to be able to break the fatal news to her, and calm her first agonies of grief and wrath.'
'You, Rupert?' said Anne.
'Myself, Anne,' replied Rupert; 'you have no notion what friends Mrs.
Hazleby and I have become. We had a tete-a-tete of an hour and a half this morning.'
'What could you find to talk about?' said Anne.
'First,' said Rupert, 'she asked about my grouse shooting; where I went, and with whom, and whether I had seen any of the Campbells of Inchlitherock. Of course we embarked in a genealogy of the whole Campbell race; then came a description of the beauties of Inchlitherock. Next I was favoured with her private history; how she, being one of thirteen, was forced, at eighteen, to leave the lovely spot, and embark with her brother for India.'
'On speculation,' said Elizabeth.
'And finally, how she came to marry the Major.'
'O Rupert, that is too much; you must have invented it!' cried Anne.
'Indeed I did not, Anne,' said Rupert; 'it is a fact that she lived somewhere in the Mofussil with her brother, and there she encountered the Major. You, young ladies, may imagine how she fascinated him, and how finally her brother seems to have bullied the Major into marrying her.'
'Poor man!' said Elizabeth, 'I always wondered how he chanced to fall into her clutches. But did you hear no more?'
'No more of her personal history,' said Rupert; 'she kindly employed the rest of her time in giving me wise counsels.'
'Oh! pray let us have the benefit of them,' said Anne, who had by this time pretty well forgotten her prudence.
'There were many regrets that I was not in the army,' said Rupert, 'and many pieces of advice which would have been very useful if I had, but which I am afraid were thrown away upon me, ending with wise reflections upon the importance of a wise choice of a wife, especially for a young man of family, exposed to danger from designing young ladies, with cautions against beauty because of its perishable nature, and learning, because literary ladies are fit for nothing.'
'Meaning to imply,' said Elizabeth, 'how fortunate was Major Hazleby in meeting with so sweet a creature as the charming Miss Barbara Campbell, possessed of neither of these dangerous qualities.'
'I do not know,' said Anne; 'I think she might have possessed some of the former when she left Inchlitherock.'
'Before twenty years of managing and scolding had fixed her eyes in one perpetual stare,' said Elizabeth. 'But here we are at home.'
They found the hall table covered with parcels, which shewed that Mrs.
Woodbourne and her party had returned from their drive, and the girls hastened up-stairs.
Anne found her mamma in her room, as well as Sir Edward, who was finishing a letter.
'Well, Mamma, had you a prosperous journey?' said she.
'Yes, very much so,' said Lady Merton: 'Mrs. Hazleby was in high good-humour, she did nothing but sing Rupert's praises, and did not scold Mrs. Woodbourne as much as usual.'
'And what have you been doing, Miss Anne?' said Sir Edward; 'you are quite on the qui vive.'
'Oh! I have been laughing at the fun which Rupert and Lizzie have been making about Mrs. Hazleby,' said Anne; 'I really could not help it, Mamma, and I do not think I began it.'
'Began what?' said Sir Edward.
'Why, Mamma was afraid I should seem to set Lizzie against her step-mother's relations, if I quizzed them or abused them,' said Anne.
'I do not think what you could say would make much difference in Lizzie's opinion of them,' said Sir Edward, 'but certainly I should think they were not the best subjects of conversation here.'
'But I have not told you of the grand catastrophe,' said Anne; 'we have found poor Fido drowned among the bulrushes.'