The Reflections of Ambrosine: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

How changed all the world can become in one short day! Now I know why
the Marquis came, and what all the mystery was about. This morning
after breakfast grandmamma sent for me into the drawing-room. The
Marquis was standing beside the fireplace, and they both looked rather
grave.

"Sit down, my child." said grandmamma; "we have something to say to
you."

I sat down.

"I said you were a true daughter of the race--therefore I shall expect
you to obey me without flinching."

I felt a cold shiver down my back. What could it be?

"You are aware that I had a fainting fit a short time ago," she
continued. "I have long known that my heart was affected, but I had
hoped it would have lasted long enough for me to fulfil a scheme I had
for a thoroughly suitable and happy arrangement of your destiny. It
was a plan that would have taken time, and which I had hoped to put
in the way of gradual accomplishment at this ball. However, we must
not grumble at fate--it is not to be. The doctor tells me I cannot
possibly live more than a few weeks, therefore it follows that
something must be settled immediately to secure you a future. You
are not aware, as I have not considered it necessary to inform you
hitherto of my affairs, that all we are living on is an annuity your
father bought for me, before the catastrophe to his fortunes. That,
you will understand, ceases with my life. At my death you will be
absolutely penniless, a beggar in the street. Even were you to
sell these trifles"--and she pointed to the S�vres cups and the
miniatures--"the few pounds they would bring might keep you from
starving for perhaps a month or two--after that--well, enough--that
question is impossible. I can obtain no news of your father. I have
heard nothing from or of him for two years. He may be dead--we cannot
count on him. In short, I have decided, after due consideration and
consultation with my old friend the Marquis, that you must marry
Augustus Gurrage. It is my dying wish."

My eyes fell from grandmamma's face and happened to light on the
picture of Ambrosine Eustasie de Calincourt. There she was, with the
rose in her dress, smiling at me out of the old paste frame. I was so
stunned, all I could think of was to wonder if it was the same rose
she walked up the guillotine steps with. I did not hear grandmamma
speaking; for a minute there was a buzzing in my ears.

_Marry Augustus Gurrage!_

"My child"--grandmamma's voice was rather sharper--"I am aware that
it is a _m�salliance_, a stain, a finish to our fine race, and if I
could take you on the journey I am going I would not suggest this
alternative to you; but one must have common-sense and be practical;
and as you are young and must live, and cannot beg, this is the only
certain and possible solution of the matter. The great honor you will
do him by marrying him removes all sense of obligation in receiving
the riches he will bestow on you--you yourself being without a _dot_.
Child--why don't you answer?"

I got up and walked to the window. She had said I was a true daughter
of the race. Would it be of the race to kill myself? No--there is
nothing so vulgar as to be dramatic. Grandmamma has never erred. She
would not ask this of me if there was any other way.

I came back and sat down.

"Very well, grandmamma," I said.

The blue mark round her lips seemed to fade a little and she smiled.

The Marquis came forward and kissed my hand.

"Remember--_ch�re enfant_," he said, "marriage is a state required
by society. It is not a pleasure, but it can--with creature
comforts--become supportable, and it opens the door to freedom _et
de tous les autres agr�ments de la vie pour une femme_."

He kissed and patted my hand again.

"Start with hate, passionate love, indifference, revolt, disgust--what
you will--all husbands at the end of a year inspire the same feeling,
one of complacent monotony--that is, if they are not altogether
brutes--and from the description of madame, _ce jeune_ Gurrage is at
least _un brave gar�on_."

I am of a practical nature, and a thought struck me forcibly. When
could Mr. Gurrage have made the _demande_?

"How did Mr. Gurrage ask for my hand?" I ventured to question
grandmamma.

She looked at the Marquis, and the Marquis looked back at her, and
polished his eye-glasses.

At last grandmamma spoke.

"That is not the custom here, Ambrosine, but from what I have observed
he will take the first opportunity of asking you himself."

Here was something unpleasant to look forward to! It would be bad
enough to have to go through the usual period of formal _fian�ailles_
of the sort I have always been brought up to expect--but to endure
being made love to by Augustus Gurrage! That was enough to daunt the
stoutest heart. However, having agreed to obey grandmamma, I could not
argue. I only waited for directions. There was a pause, not agreeable
to any of us, and then grandmamma spoke.

"You will go to this ball, my child. You will look beautiful, and you
will dance with this young man. You will not be so stiff as you have
hitherto been, and during the evening he is sure to propose to you.
You will then accept him, and bear his outburst of affection with what
good grace you can summon up. I will save you from as much as I can,
and I promise you your engagement shall be short."

A sudden feeling of dizziness came over me. I have never been faint
in my life, but all the room swam, and I felt I must scream, "No, no!
I cannot do it!" Then my eyes fell again on grandmamma. The blue mark
had returned, but she sat bolt upright. My nerves steadied. I, too,
would be calm and of my race.

"Go for a walk now, my child," she said, "Take your dog and run; it
will be good for you."

You may believe I courtesied quickly to them and left the room without
more ado.

When I got out-of-doors and the fresh May air struck my face it seemed
to revive me, and I forgot my ugly future and could think only of
grandmamma--poor grandmamma, going away out of the world, and the
summer coming, and the blue sky, and the flowers. Going away to the
great, vast beyond--and perhaps there she will meet Ambrosine Eustasie
de Calincourt, and all the other ancestors, and J�cques de Calincourt,
the famous friend of Bayard, who died for his lady's glove; and she
will tell them that I also, the last of them, will try to remember
their motto, "_Sans bruit_," and accept my fate also "without noise."

When I got back, my ball-dress had arrived. Hephzibah had unpacked
it, and it was lying on my bed--such billows of pure white!--and it
fitted! Well, it gave me pleasure, with all the uglies looming in the
future, just to try it on.

The Marquis stayed with us. He could not desert his old friend, he
said, in her frail health, when she needed some one to cheer her. I
suspect the Marquis is as poor as we are, really, and that is why
grandmamma could not leave me to him. I am glad he is staying, and now
she seems quite her old self again, and I cannot believe she is going
to die. However, whether or no, my destiny is fixed, and I shall have
to marry Augustus Gurrage.

I did not let myself think of what was to happen at the ball. When one
has made up one's mind to go through something unpleasant, there is no
use suffering in advance by anticipation. I said to myself, "I will
put the whole affair out of my head; there are yet two good days."

Chance, however, arranged otherwise. This morning, the morning of the
ball, while I was dusting the drawing-room, I went to the window,
which was wide open, to shake out my duster, and there, loitering by
the gate, was Mr. Gurrage--at nine o'clock! What could he be doing?
He jumped back as if he had seen me in my nightgown. I suppose it was
because of my apron, and the big cambric cap I always wear to keep the
dust from getting into my hair. A flash came to me--why not get it
over now? He would probably not be so affectionate in broad daylight
as at the ball. So I called out, "Good-morning!"

He came forward up the path and leaned on the window-sill, still
looking dreadfully uncomfortable, hardly daring to glance at me. Then
he said, nervously, "What are you playing with, up like that?"

"I am not playing," I said, "I am dusting the china, and I wear these
things to keep me clean."

He _blushed_!

Then I realized all this embarrassment was because he thought I should
feel uncomfortable at being caught doing house-work! Not, as one might
have imagined, because _he_ had been caught peeping into our garden.
Oh, the odd ideas of the lower classes!

I took up a S�vres cup and began to pull the silk duster gently
through the handle.

"Er--can I help you?" he said.

At that I burst out laughing. Those thick, common hands touching
grandmamma's best china!

"No, no!" I said.

He grew less self-conscious.

"By Jove! how pretty you are in that cap!"

"Am I?"

"Yes, and you are laughing, and not snubbing a fellow so dreadfully as
you generally do."

"No?"

"No--well, I came round because I couldn't sleep. I haven't been able
to sleep for three nights. I haven't seen you since Saturday, you
know."

"No, I did not know."

My heart began to beat in a sickening fashion. He leaned close to me
over the sill. I put down the cup and took up the miniature. I thought
if I looked at Ambrosine Eustasie that would give me courage. I went
on dusting it, and I was glad to see my hands did not shake.

"Yes, you are so devilishly tantalizing--I beg your pardon, but you
don't chuck yourself at a fellow's head like the other girls."

I felt I was "chucking myself at his head"--horrible phrase--at that
very moment, but as speech is given us to conceal our thoughts, I
said, "No, indeed!"

"Ambrosine--" (Oh, how his saying my name jarred and made me creep!)
"Er--you know I am jolly fond of you. If you'll marry me you'll not
have to dust any more beastly old china, I promise you."

I have never had a tooth out--fortunately, mine are all very white
and sound--but I have always heard the agony goes on growing until
the final wrench, and then all is over. I feel I know now what the
sensation is. I could have screamed, but when he finished speaking I
felt numb. I was incapable of answering.

"I've generally been able to buy all I've wanted," he went on, "but I
never wanted a wife before." He laughed nervously. That was a straw
for me.

"Do you want to buy me?" I said, "Because, if it is only a question of
that, it perhaps could be managed."

"Oh, I say--I never meant that!" he blustered, "Oh, you know I love
you like anything, and I want you to love me."

"That is just it," I said, quite low.

I felt too mean, I could not pretend I loved him. I must tell the
truth, and then, if he would not have me--me--Ambrosine de Calincourt
Athelstan!--why, then, vulgarly dramatic or no, I should have to jump
into the river to make things easy for grandmamma.

"What is 'just it'?" he asked.

"I do not love you."

His face fell.

"I kind of thought you didn't," he faltered, the bluster gone;
"but"--cheering up--"of course you will in time, if you will only
marry me."

"I don't think I ever shall," I managed to whisper; "but if you like
to marry me on that understanding, you may."

He climbed through the window and put his arms round me.

"Darling!" he said, and kissed me deliberately.

Oh, the horror of it! I shut my eyes, and in the emotion of the moment
I bent the bow on the top of the frame of Ambrosine Eustasie.

Then, dragging myself from his embrace and stuttering with rage, "How
dare you!" I gasped. "How dare you!"

He looked sulky and offended.

"You said you would marry me--what is a fellow to understand?"

"You are to understand that I will not be mauled and--and kissed
like--like Hephzibah at the back door," I said, with freezing dignity,
my head in the air.

"Hoity-toity!" (hideous expression!) "What airs you give yourself! But
you look so deuced pretty when you are angry!" I did not melt, but
stood on the defensive.

He became supplicating again.

"Ambrosine, I love you--don't be cross with me. I won't make you
angry again until you are used to me. Ambrosine, say you forgive me."
He took my hand. His hands are horrid to touch--coarse and damp. I
shuddered involuntarily.

He looked pained at that. A dark-red flush came over all his face. He
squared his shoulders and got over the window-sill again.

"You cold statue!" he said, spitefully. "I will leave you."

"Go," was all I said, and I did not move an inch.

He stood looking at me for a few moments, then with one bound he was
in the room again and had seized me in his arms.

"No, I sha'n't!" he exclaimed. "You have promised, and I don't care
what you say or do. I will keep you to your word."

Mercifully, at that moment Hephzibah opened the door, and in the
confusion her entrance caused him, he let me go. I simply flew
from the room and up to my own; and there, I am ashamed to say,
I cried--sat on the floor and cried like a gutter-child. Oh, if
grandmamma could have seen me, how angry she would have been! I have
never been allowed to cry--a relaxation for the lower classes, she
has always told me.

My face burned. All the bottles of Lubin in grandmamma's cupboard
would not wash off the stain of that kiss, I felt. I scrubbed my face
until it was crimson, and then I heard grandmamma's voice and had to
pull myself together.

I have always said she had hawk's eyes; they see everything, even with
the blinds down in her room. When I went in she noticed my red lids
and asked the cause of them.

"Mr. Gurrage has been here and has asked me to marry him, grandmamma,"
I said.

"At this hour in the morning! What does the young man mean?"

"He saw me dusting the S�vres from the road and came in."

Grandmamma kissed me--a thing of the greatest rareness.

"My child," she said, "try and remember to accept fate without noise.
Now go and rest until breakfast, or you will not be pretty for your
ball to-night."

The Marquis's congratulations were different when we met in the _salle
� manger_; he kissed my hand. How cool and fine his old, withered
fingers felt!

"You will be the most beautiful _d�butante_ to-night, _ma ch�re
enfant_," he said; "and all the _f�licitations_ are for Monsieur
Gurrage. You are a noble girl--but such is life. My wife detested
me--_dans le temps_. But what will you?"

"You, at least, were a gentleman, Marquis," I said.

"There is that, to be sure," he allowed. "But my wife preferred her
dancing-master. One can never judge."

At half-past two o'clock (they must have gobbled their lunch), Mrs.
Gurrage, Augustus--yes, I must get accustomed to saying that odious
name--Augustus and Miss Hoad drove up in the barouche, and got
solemnly out and came up to the door which Hephzibah held open for
them. They solemnly entered the sitting-room where we all were, and
solemnly shook hands. There is something dreadfully ill-behaved about
me to-day. I could hardly prevent myself from screaming with laughter.

"I've heard the joyous news," Mrs. Gurrage said, "and I've come to
take you to me heart, me dear."

Upon which I was folded fondly against a mosaic brooch containing a
lock of hair of the late Mr. Gurrage.

It says a great deal for the unassailable dignity of grandmamma that
she did not share the same fate. She, however, escaped with only
numerous hand-shakings.

"He is, indeed, to be congratulated, _votre fils_, madame," the
Marquis said, on being presented.

"And the young lady, too, me dear sir. A better husband than me boy'll
make there is not in England--though his old mother says it."

Grandmamma behaved with the stiffest decorum. She suggested that
we--the young girls--should walk in the garden, while she had some
conversation with Mrs. Gurrage and Augustus.

Miss Hoad and I left the room. Her name is Amelia. She looked like a
turkey's egg, just that yellowish white with freckles.

"I hope you will be good to Gussie," she said, as we walked demurely
along the path. "He is a dear fellow when you know him, though a bit
masterful."

I bowed.

"Gussie's awfully spoony on you," she went on. "I said to aunt weeks
ago I knew what was up," she giggled.

I bowed again.

"I say, he'll give you a bouquet for the ball to-night; we are going
into Tilchester now to fetch it."

I could not bow a third time, so I said:

"Is not a bouquet rather in the way of dancing? I have never been to a
ball yet."

"Never been to a ball? My! Well I've never had a bouquet, so I can't
say. If you have any one sweet on you I suppose they send them, but I
have always been too busy with aunt to think about that."

Poor Miss Hoad!

When they had gone--kept behind grandmamma's chair, and so only
received a squeeze of the hand from my betrothed--grandmamma told
me she would be obliged to forego the pleasure of herself taking me
to the ball to-night, but the Marquis would accompany me, and Mrs.
Gurrage would chaperon me there. So, after all, I am going with
Mrs. Gurrage! Grandmamma also added that she had explained the
circumstances of her health to them, and that Augustus had suggested
that the wedding should take place with the shortest delay possible.

"I have told them your want of _dot_," she said, "and I must say for
these _bourgeois_ they seemed to find that a matter of no importance.
But they do not in the least realize the honor you are doing them.
That must be for you as a private consolation. I have stipulated,
as my time is limited, that I shall have you as much to myself as
possible during the month that must elapse before you can collect a
trousseau."

For that mercy, how grateful I felt to grandmamma!

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