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Frank Melton's Luck, Or, Off to New Zealand

Chapter XXXI. An Excessively Awkward Meeting

Chapter XXXI. An Excessively Awkward Meeting.

Our guests had mostly arrived, and Fanny's birthday dance commenced. Grosvenor made a great point of having moved heaven and earth to be present on this auspicious day. I do not myself believe he ever thought of it being her birthday. It is true he brought her a handsome present, but this he would have done in any case. I was glad, when I saw how it threw the one I had purchased for her in the shade, that I had not presented mine.

The Robinsons entered after the dancing had commenced. Fanny was enjoying a galop with Grosvenor. As they came to a pause in a page 131 corner of the room, I was standing unobserved about a yard behind them, by chance half-hidden amid the leafy decorations, jealously watching their movements and awaiting results.

‘Why, there are the Robinson's,’ Fanny exclaimed, ‘come at last. I must go and speak to Julia. Take me across to her, please.’

‘Damnation!’ mattered her partner between his clenched teeth, turning sharply round to prevent the remark, which he had failed to suppress, from being heard by my cousin, by which means he most unexpectedly found himself confronted by me, to whom, of course, it was distinctly audible. His face was white as death with dismay, combined with rage at my being a witness of his discomposure, and at the mocking smile with which I acknowledged it. There was no time for him to resent it, so he quickly regained his composure and turned to obey his partner's wishes. ‘Why did you not let me know they were coming?’ he asked. ‘How on earth did they get over here?’

‘I forgot that you knew them. Mr Robinson has bought the farm you were looking at.’

‘I am sorry for that, for Miss Julia is a bad lot. She swore I had made love to her on board, and also when I met her casually in Hawke's Bay. She is always imagining something of the sort. I shouldn't be surprised if she makes a scene here, but remember, dearest, whatever she says about me in that respect is false, se don't take any notice of it.’

After these few words he took her, with as much coolness as he could hurriedly assume, across the room to where Julia was chatting with aunt and her mother. They had not as yet seen him. I had myself quickly walked over to speak to the Robinsons, and to watch my rival's meeting with the girl he meant to treat so falsely.

Miss Julia had commenced a playful conversation with me, which she cut very short as her wandering eye caught sight of Grosvenor and Fanny approaching. Now, although my opinion of Miss Julia's good looks had decidedly suffered much since I had been acquainted with Fanny, yet had never seen her to greater advantage than when her face, already animated and excited at the idea of a dance, became suddenly lit up with an expression comprised of fond love, pride in the one she loved, and the intense pleasure and surprise on meeting him here, when she imagined he would be far away. If her appearance was improved by this unexpected meeting, Grosvenor's most certainly was not. Although, to a superficial observer, I must allow he was not a bad-looking fellow, and could perhaps disguise his real feelings better than any man I had ever met; yet at this moment I saw one short, transient gleam of baffied rage and enmity pass over his features, which rendered it, to my mind, that of a demon. One moment, and it was gone—I do not think anyone else observed it—and the usual bland, smiling look had taken its place; but having seen the other, I could not help observing how forced and unnatural this was. Deeper and more bitter curses are often expressed by a momentary movement of the features of men of evil natures than ever emanate from their lips—deeper and more bitter from the fact that time and circumstance will not allow them utterance.

And if such an immense amount of annoyance can be suffered in a few short moments, so also can an equal amount of wild joy be experienced. In the same brief space of time I saw Grosvenor's pretensions page 132 shattered, and my chance of persuading Fanny to become my wife almost a certainty. I saw this, and was almost overcome, but not quite, for joy is a sensation of which most of us could endure a considerable amount, and I among the number. But in this instance my endurance was not strained after all. However, I must return to the others. Fanny all unconscious of these contrary sensations, which had such different effects on her two lovers, for she had not noticed Grosvenor's wild look, came up with conscious blushes, and the natural pride of a girl on first introducing her intended husband to her friends—pride in that he belongs to her, and to her alone; that no other living soul has a right to him. She looked so radiantly beautiful, and—I must write it, though it still causes me a twinge—sopremely happy, that I felt, even amid my delight at my rival's impending downfall, a sensation of great pity for the suffering which I knew my cousin must undergo at the humiliation of finding that one who professed to give her all his love had made the same profession to another. Yet, as she came up with the look of a queen, I knew, however bitter the disappointment might be, she would bear it as she ought, as she had already borne much from the hands of this villain.

‘Why, Gun.’ Miss Julia exclaimed, ‘is that really you? Come back without letting me know to give me a pleasant surprise, eh? In your last letter you said you would not be able to return for nearly six months; but I am delighted to see you, you naughty boy. How did you hear we had moved here? I don't think I mentioned it in any of my letters.’ Without waiting for an answer she turned to aunt. ‘And fancy you being in the secret, too, dear Mrs Melton! how excessively kind of you to ask Gus. here to meet me. I did not know that you were aware to whom I was engaged. Isn't he a dear fellow? Ah, Fanny, I have beaten you. I said I should have the pleasure of introducing my lover to you before you introduced yours to me. I now formally introduce to you my future husband, although he appears well known to you in his bachelor character. Where did you meet him?’

Fanny's look of astonished indignation was superb, and the rest of the guests who had gathered round appeared to be struck dumb. You might have heard a pin drop. Fanny soon found words.

‘Miss Robinson, I do not understand you. We have scarcely been long enough acquainted for you to indulge in this sort of fun at my expense, for I presume that is what you intend it for.’

‘Fun! There's no fun about it, except your delighful indignation. I'll soon prove my words. We are engaged, are we not, Gus?’ ‘Yes, yes, Julia, we are engaged; it's all right,’ replied Grosvenor, with a face, to outward appearance, imperturbably calm, but I could read by the help of the knowledge I had, the passion of doubt, fear, and even hatred of Julia, which was raging within. Bending over Fanny, he took advantage of Miss Julia's having turned aside to answer her mother's inqniry what it all meant to whisper to her. ‘She's a shingle short. Always imagining she is engaged to some one. I agreed with her merely to keep her quiet and save a scene. She becomes almost frantic if contradicted. I'll explain more by-and-bye.’

Fanny did not appear to be entirely reassured by this false speech, but I noted with alarm that though her blind faith in her lover had been sorely tried, it did not quite give way. At the moment of his page 133 acknowledgment to Miss Julia that he was engaged to her, I could see the expression of almost savage hatred which reminded me so forcibly of her mother's race, flash across my cousin's face. I prayed that that look might never be directed at me, whatever might happen. It was, to do her justice, of very rare occurence, and when directed at another I could see a wild beauty in its majestic wrath. On this occasion both Miss Julia and Grosvenor got the benefit of it.

After the explanation that the poor girl was not quite in her right mind, compassion for her calmed the feeling of bitter hatred which jealousy had at first caused. Fanny immediately explained to her stepmother what Grosvenor had said, and whispered to her what a horrid girl she must be. Aunt at once went up to her husband who had only just entered the room, and had not, of course, heard the conversation recorded above, and related the incident to him, asking his advice as to the best course to pursue, as she did in most of her difficulties.

‘Don't bother about their nonsensical quarrels, that's my advice. I dare say he's been spooning with 'em both. Most boys do, eh! and girls, too. But Fanny's got him. Sure to be jealousy and all that. They'll get over it. Let 'em rip.’

This latter sentence, more brief than polite, was his favourite solution of a difficulty which proved to be a little out of his province. The word ‘rip,’ as doubtless most of my readers are aware, is formed of the initial letters of the words, requiescat in pace—rest in peace. Now, although uncle advised aunt to allow the young ladies to do this, yet they by no means did it. Firm friends as they had promised to be before this evening's episode, they now regarded one another with feelings of dislike and distrust. Aunt appeared far from satisfied with either Grosvenor's explanation or uncle's careless disposal of the difficulty, but as she always depended on his opinion, and disliked acting in opposition to it, she took no steps to clear up the peculiar turn that affairs had taken.

The dance meanwhile went on, and with Fanny's consent Grosvenor divided his time between the two ladies. On his again referring to the poor girl's mental misfortune—which this inveterate perverter of the truth actually put down to my scandalously trifling with her affections on the voyage—my kind-hearted cousin positively requested him not to neglect her on any consideration. He obeyed this request to the letter, much to the satisfaction of the poor afflicted creature. Mr Robinson was not at the dance, but his good lady made some remarks to my aunt, which were by no means agreeable, referring to Miss Melton's bold-faced attempts to steal her daughter's lover away from her. After a tirade of abuse she finished up by remarking ‘that considering her birth, she could not be expected to know better.’ After quietly endeavouring to calm the irate old lady, my aunt judged it wisest to leave a field where her adversary used ammunition of so coarse a nature. This added to the irritation and indignation of her guest in a far greater degree than if she had remained and argued with her. She was, however, reduced to the necessity of expending it on the company in general, though with very little effect, as I believe Grosvenor's version of the story was more generally believed.

I had by this time come to the conclusion that he would yet manage matters so as to blind my cousin and her relatives as to his real character, and the true state of affairs. I had a dance with her, and page 134 attempted once more to convince her that I was right, and that he was engaged to Miss Julia, but in vain. Nothing that I could do was of any avail. Fanny even hinted that I was as cranky as Miss Julia on this particular subject, and it was a judgment on me for driving her out of her mind. I said nothing in reply to this cruel accusation. Where was the good?

Grosvenor got through the evening far better than he could possibly have expected or deserved. He managed with his wonderful powers of intrigue and deceit, to conciliate both ladies, and impressed each of them with the firm conviction that he would marry her. There was now little doubt in my mind, owing to a statement Miss Julia made to the effect that her marriage would take place in a few months, that his original plans were to marry Fanny, get hold of all the property he could, then abandon her, slip across to Hawke's Bay, marry Julia, and quit the country with her. He had not reckoned on the Robinsons moving to Wanganui and the two families becoming intimate. Thus he proved a blacker-hearted villain even than I had given him credit for being. Now the young ladies to whom he aspired had met, he must renounce one part of his plot, and concentrate his whole energies in obtaining the hand of one of them, lest between two stools he should fall to the ground. He might think himself wonderfully lucky if he succeeded. Still, with his consummate impudence and utter disregard for truth and honour, I felt he would in all probability succeed, the more especially when I noticed that Mrs Robinson's vindictive remarks had, aided by her daughter's reputed peculiarlty (which, by-the-bye, soon got magnified into insanity), created a complete breach of the friendliness just commenced between the two families.

Grosvenor visited the Robinsons frequently, it is true. He gave himself great credit for this self-sacrifice, as he termed it, leaving dear Fanny to spend a few hours with a girl like Miss Julia. Self-interest, I called it. He led the Robinsons to believe that he was staying about Wanganui to look for land, not with any idea of marrying something little better than a Maori wahine, as he scornfully termed my adorable cousin Fanny, to Miss Julia's intense delight. This little fact, unfortunately, did not come to our ears till long after. He was afraid of breaking altogether with Miss Julia for fear anything should yet prevent his marriage with Fanny. At all events he succeeded admirably in keeping either family in entire ignorance of the terms on which he stood with the other. This would have been impossible but for the aforesaid breach. Even Mr Robinson was so biassed by his wife's exaggerated, or rather fabricated, account of the treatment they received at the Melton's, that he refused to speak to uncle when he met him. The old lady had laid much stress on the rude manner in which Mrs Melton had walked off, and refused to listen to her, oblivious, doubtless, of the fact that no one unaccustomed to her vituperations could possibly be expected to stand calmly by and receive them, much less (if a lady) to return them in kind. Thus, in his whole courtship, everything seemed to favour Grosvenor. He wound himself with his insidious manner into the good graces of almost everyone, including our clergyman, an elderly gentleman in weak health, whom he went so far as to assist in the capacity of lay-reader. The doctor, the only man who I believe would have been capable of coping with him, had, unfortunately, left the district.