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  These agitating reflections produced their natural result. Tears poured silently down Miss Taverner’s cheeks, and picturesque villages, turnpikes, and views passed unnoticed.When she was at last set down at the house on the Marine Parade, not even the sight of the sea had the power to elevate her spirits. She hurried into the house with her veil pulled down, and almost ran up the stairs to indulge her misery in the seclusion of her own bedchamber.

  Seventeen

  IT WAS MANY DAYS BEFORE MISS TAVERNER COULD BE restored to the enjoyment of composure, and long before the evils of her journey ceased to be felt. She struggled to support her spirits, but they were quite worn down, and although she might assume an air of calm cheerfulness, her reflections were all mortifying, and her heart very heavy.

  Peregrine’s arrival in Brighton, half an hour later than her own, brought her no comfort. What had passed between him and Worth she did not ask, nor he divulge. He came to her sulky, half-defiant, half-shamefaced, ready to abuse Worth, but reluctant to discuss the cause of their disagreement. It was evident that Worth had not spared him. Judith’s spirits sank still lower. She felt herself to have bred dissension between the two men, and no acknowledgment now (which would indeed have been hard to make) of having deserved Worth’s censure would avail to soften Peregrine’s indignation. No good could come of talking over the affair; it must be left to time to remedy the harm that had been done. Nor could she expect Peregrine to see it all as she did. He was conscious of having done wrong, perhaps secretly sorry for it, but it was after all no great matter: he could forget everything but Worth’s part in it in a very short while, and sally forth with tolerable light-heartedness to take a look at Brighton.

  When Mrs Scattergood was set down at the house it was some hours later, and Judith was able to meet her with the appearance at least of composure. But it was a hard case to be obliged to listen to her reproaches, and to give her some account of what had passed at Cuckfield. But even Mrs Scattergood could not talk for ever, and by the time they sat down to dinner she was ready to forget it all, and turn her thoughts to what Brighton offered in the way of entertainment.

  The house on the Marine Parade was neat, and sufficiently commodious to satisfy its tenants. They could have wished that the drawing-rooms had been more handsome, but were obliged to admit that the furnishings of the whole, though not rich, were above what was generally to be found in houses let out for hire at the seaside. The want of elegance was soon remedied by the arrangement of all the pretty trifles and hangings which Mrs Scattergood had had the forethought to bring from Brook Street in one of her many trunks. The first evening passed quietly in making themselves at home; both ladies went early to bed, the elder to place slices of raw veal on her face to prevent wrinkles, and the younger to lie awake half the night in fruitless reflection.

  This wretchedness could not long endure. In the morning the sight of the sun sparkling on the sea produced an alleviation; and the air, which was fresh and salt-tanged, invigorated the spirits. Some feeling of lowness must still remain, but misery could not persist. It was in anticipation of a day of interest and pleasure that Judith joined her brother and Mrs Scattergood in the breakfast-parlour.

  From the circumstance of her eyes having been full of tears when her chaise had driven into Brighton the day before, Judith had been hardly conscious of her surroundings, and had not even looked up to see the Pavilion, which was placed to catch the traveller’s gaze immediately upon entering the town. That must therefore be the first object of their morning’s walk, and soon after breakfast the two ladies set out together, accompanied as far as the Steyne by Peregrine, who was bound for Ragget’s club.

  Five minutes’ walk along the sea-front brought them to the southern end of the Steyne, and a view, though not the best, of the Pavilion was at once obtained. They bent their steps inland, and began to walk up the glazed red-brick pavement of the Steyne, past the neat gardens laid out in geometrical designs, past Donaldson’s Circulating Library, until Pavilion Parade was reached, and they stood immediately before the gleaming and costly edifice itself.

  The Pavilion, which had been built for the Prince Regent by Mr Henry Holland, occupied a frontage of four hundred and eighty feet, and stood in ten acres of ground. It had been designed in accordance with a vague idea conceived by the Prince upon being sent a present of some Chinese wallpaper, and startling and original was the result. At first glance the sight-seeing visitor might well imagine himself to have strayed into some land of make-believe, so gorgeous and unconventional was the palace. The Greek, the Moorish, and the Russian styles predominated. It was fronted by an Ionic colonnade and entablature; a succession of green-roofed domes and minarets rose above a running battlement that surmounted the upper line of the whole building; and two cones, equal in height to the central and largest dome, crowned each wing. The pinnacles and the minarets, which were placed at every angle of the structure, were made of Bath stone, the rest of the palace of stuccoed brick. In front of each of the wings was an open arcade composed of arches, separated by octagonal columns, and ornamented by trellis-work. The entrance was upon the western side, but the principal front, which Mrs Scattergood and Miss Taverner were gazing at, was to the east, and opened on to a lawn, which was separated from the parade by a low wall, and a dwarf enclosure. A captious critic had once remarked, on first seeing the palace, that it was as though St Paul’s had littered, and brought forth a brood of cupolas, but no such profane thought crossed Miss Taverner’s mind. If the Pavilion had not been conceived with quite that simplicity of taste which was proper, it was not for her to cavil; she was not to be setting up her judgment in opposition to Mr Holland’s.

  ‘Is it not a noble edifice?’ said Mrs Scattergood, who could never see it without being struck afresh by its magnificence. ‘The stables alone cost seventy thousand pounds to build, you know. I am sure you can never have seen a palace to equal it! Carlton House is nothing to it! That is unpretentious to the point of meanness; this must instantly catch the eye, and hold the visitor spellbound with admiration!’

  ‘Very true; it is something quite out of the common, indeed.’

  ‘And the interior! – But you will see! We shall be invited to one of the musical parties, of course. Every apartment of the most noble dimensions, and the whole fitted up with a degree of elegance beyond what is imaginable!’

  They walked on to obtain a view of the stables, which were placed at the northern end of the grounds. A short distance brought them to the New Road, and turning down this they soon found themselves in North Street, a steep, crowded highway, which was always in a bustle of traffic. Several of the principal coach-offices were situated in it, and the two ladies paused for a few minutes to watch the departure of one of the stages to London. A number of shops displaying attractive wares made their progress slow, but they presently reached Promenade Grove, on the south-western side of the Pavilion, and sat down to rest for a while under the scanty shade of the poplars that fringed it.

  Here were displayed a neatness and a propriety of taste which must have delighted a more critical observer than Miss Taverner. She exclaimed, and was enchanted, and after a short interval of repose declared her intention of exploring the numerous bowers and zigzag alleys in which the grove was laid out. Mrs Scattergood was very willing, and half an hour was spent in wandering about and admiring the beauty of the flowers, which grew in profusion in a number of formal beds. The grove was not crowded, for the fashionable hour for promenading was later in the day, when an orchestra dispensed music from a wooden box in the centre, but during the course of their stroll the two ladies met several persons with whom they were acquainted, and learned from one of these that although the Prince Regent was not yet in residence at the Pavilion, he was expected to arrive at the end of the week. Colonel McMahon, his secretary, was already in Brighton.

  A glance at her watch informed Mrs Scattergood that the morning was already considerably advanced, and as they had come out with the intention of visit