Page:All the Year Round - Series 2 - Volume 1.djvu/326

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
316[March 6, 1869]
All the Year Round.
[Conducted by

indeed, for I know where the indebtedness lies—more especially to you for all the kindness you have shown me, and the notice you have taken of me. And I—I intended——"

"Will you prove the truth of your protestations by never saying another word on the subject? The give-and-take principle has been carried out in our society as much as the most ardent democrat, say yourself, Mr. Joyce, could have desired. I am sure you are too good-natured to mourn over the hours torn from your great work, and frittered away in frivolous conversation, when you know that you have helped Lady Hetherington and myself to undergo an appalling amount of country people; and that while the dead Wests may grieve over the delay in the publication of their valour and virtue, the living Wests are grateful for assistance rendered them in their conflict with the bores. However, all that is nearly at an end. When the family is at Hetherington House, I have no doubt you will be enabled to enjoy the strictest seclusion. Meantime, there is only one festivity that I know of, which is likely to cause us to ask you to tear yourself away from your chronicles."

"And that is——?"

"A skating party. Consequently dependent on the state of the weather. So that if you are still hermit-ically inclined, you had better pray for a thaw. If the frost holds like this, we are anticipating a very pleasant afternoon to-morrow, the people from the barracks and some others are coming over, the men report the ice in capital order, and there's to be luncheon and that kind of thing. But perhaps, after all, you don't skate, Mr. Joyce?"

"Oh yes, indeed—and you?"

"Nothing in the world I'm so fond of, or, if I may say so, that I do so well. We wintered one year in Vienna, there was a piece of water privately enclosed called the Schwann Spiegel, where the Emperor—never mind!"

The next day was very bright and very pleasant. Whether Walter Joyce had prayed for a thaw or not, it is certain that the frost of the previous night had been very mild as compared with its immediate predecessors; the wind had shifted round to the south-west, the sun had actual warmth, and weatherwise people assumed to notice a certain dun effect of the atmosphere, and therefrom to presage snow. The notion of the skating party about to take place had been received with immense delight at the barracks at Brocksopp, and at the various houses to which invitations had been forwarded. To exhibit themselves in becoming costume a little removed from ordinary everyday dress, was in itself a delight to the younger members of society, while the elders, independently of their gratification in being brought personally into contact with the Lord-Lieutenant of the county, knew the capabilities of the Westhope cellar and kitchen, and recognised the fact that luncheon under such auspices meant something more than sandwiches and cheap sherry. The gathering was held on a large sheet of water, which was a pond, but which, being situate in the Westhope domain, profited by the generally aristocratic nature of its surroundings and was called a lake, lying about half a mile from the house. A large tent had been pitched on the bank, and as of course it was impossible to have any regular sit-down luncheon, refreshments were perpetually going on, "snacks" were indulged in between the performance of wild evolutions given out to be quadrilles, and gone through to the music of the military band, which, with very blue cheeks and very stiff fingers, was playing on the bank, and the consumption of liquids, from champagne in tumblers to curaçoa in wine glasses, was tremendous.

The party from Westhope had driven down in a break, in which a seat had been offered to Walter Joyce by Lady Hetherington herself, who had condescended to visit the library for the express purpose. It happened, however, that the secretary was specially engaged on an important letter, which it was necessary should be despatched that day, so that he was compelled to ask to be allowed to find his own way to the lake. When he arrived, there was already a large gathering, the bank was lined with spectators, and there was a tolerably large number of skaters. Lord Hetherington, wrapped in an enormous fur coat, with a hood hanging half-way down his back, was standing looking on with a somewhat melancholy expression. It had just occurred to him that skating was a pleasant pastime, that to skate well was a thing of which a man might reasonably be proud; at the same time he realised the fact that it was a thing impossible to be done by proxy—he could not get any man to skate for him and give him the credit of it. Colonel Tapp, cleaner shaved and waxier moustached than ever, stood by his lordship. The colonel did not skate, not that he could not; in his youth he had